Page 38 of Slay the Gay Away, Daddy

Austin stands from his seat and pokes Dallas in the forehead. “No I’m absolutely livid with you already. Don’t make me even angrier.”

“What the heck did I do?” Dallas asks, sounding perplexed.

“You told me we were trying to find a church to make us all a family again, but family doesn’t let asshole priests—”

“I’m a pastor,” Miles reminds him. “There’s a difference. We’re all Christians, but the denominations are vastly different.”

Austin flings his hand dismissively. “You’re a closeted homosexual who probably preaches that gay people are freaks. Honestly, I should have known better than to come here today.” He flicks his hand up and down, motioning at Miles. “You messaged me on Grindr. I’m sorry, I’m not going to let you sit here and pretend you’re some upstanding, moral beacon.”

He did fucking what?

“I most certainly did not,” Miles objects, cocking his hip to the side and putting a hand on it, not helping his image as the community’s heterosexual spiritual lighthouse.

Austin rolls his eyes. Standing, he walks past Miles, up the steps leading to the lectern, and grabs his phone. “That’s basically theft,” he says to Miles. “That’s a sin. Rude.” Making his way back down to the aisle, he returns to his stepfather’s side and plops down in the seat, tinkering with his phone screen. I look at Miles, an unasked question formed on my lips, but he answers it with a shake of his head. We share an unspoken conversation, him pleading for me to give him a chance to explain. Me agreeing, because I trust him implicitly. That trust comes into question when Austin holds his phone in the air, displaying an image of Miles’ sleepy face. I know that face. I know his sleepy, hazy eyes. In the picture, he’s under the influence of his sleeping pill. Was he flirting with other men when I wasn’t online?

“I didn’t realize it was you until a few minutes ago when you had that stupid dazed expression on your face.”

“I . . .” Miles’ hand falls from his hip, and he takes a stumbling step back, catching himself before falling.

Austin nods proudly as he stares down at Dallas like a kid tattling on his sibling. “A couple of months ago, he kept messaging me, telling me to come over and pray. Neither of us had a face picture, and when I asked for one, he sent this.” Heflashes the phone at Dallas. “Then, because he was kind of cute, and I needed to come, I sent him a picture back.”

Dallas grabs Austin’s hand possessively. “Delete it. Delete that app now.”

Austin rolls his eyes. “Hush it and shush it, I’m telling an unnecessary lengthy villain origins story.” He glares at Miles. “Then, the second I sent him a selfie, the bastard told me ‘You’re not my dairy-bear,’ whatever the hell that means, and stopped replying. You didn’t even have the decency to block me. You just left me on read. Jerk.”

Dairy-bear? I’m assuming that was an autocorrect fail, but I don’t have much time for assumptions, because Miles looks like he’s about to pass out. No one, aside from Mal, my father, and me, has ever addressed the rainbow-colored elephant in the room. Sure, there have been whispers, but no one has flat-out accused him of being gay. I can tell he’s panicking, and I try to calm him, mouthing that it’s okay and no one else knows, but he won’t focus on me long enough to read my lips.

“I . . .” Miles stares straight ahead, his eyes not focused on anyone in particular. He’s got this shell-shocked look on his face like the way he looked when his mother died. I consoled him for hours that day, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be consoling him tonight. Nothing puts him at ease like my hugs. That’s what he’s always told me, and every time, it’s proven true the moment my arms wrap around him. Now, he’s floundering, and no one is doing anything to help him. I look over at Mal, unsure what to do, but she seems resigned, like she’s always known this day would come. “I’m not . . .”

“Holy shit,” Austin says, his eyes widening. “I was honestly just fucking with you.”

“Language,” Miles whispers like he’s ashamed to speak any louder. “This is the house of God.” Tears pool in his eyes, and Iam fucking done with this. Done letting people hurt my Miles. Done listening to the abuse they spew behind his back.

I stand and march toward Austin, my hand clenched into a fist. He must see how white my knuckles are, because he’s staring down at my hand as he backs away.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says, but that doesn’t stop my march down the aisle. As soon as I’m in front of him, I don’t think, just act, rearing back my hand and slapping him across the face. He lifts his hand and places it where I just connected, staring at me in shock. “You hit me,”

“And I’ll do it again if I need to.” I grab him by the arm and pull him out of the sanctuary and into the foyer. Once the door is closed, I shove him against the wall and poke a finger into his chest. “Do you just go around outing people on the fly, or are you simply feeling particularly prickish today?”

He’s still cupping cheek, staring at me, stunned. “You hit me.”

“Oh for God’s sake.” I’ve still got a lot of emotions running through me, and his other cheek is right there, the perfect target. So, that’s what I do. I slap him right across the face. “Pull yourself together. You’re not the victim here. That man is the sweetest, kindest man I’ve ever met. His heart is so fucking big it could beat for every man, woman, and nonbinary person, and child in Tallulah, Texas.” I poke him in the chest again, enjoying the way he winces. I move in closer until our noses are almost touching. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

He swallows. “What?”

“I could have you killed with a thirty-second phone call. You don’t want to fuck with me, Austin Snowden, and you damn sure don’t want to fuck with Miles. I won’t just have them kill you for hurting him, I will make it excruciating.”

“I’m sorry. I promise, I didn’t think he was really gay, I just—”

“Get your damn hands off my boy,” a voice calls out from behind me, and when I look over my shoulder, Dallas isstorming toward us. The door to the sanctuary opens as Austin’s mother walks out, and I catch a brief glimpse of Miles through the gap behind her. He’s standing front and center as the church members talk amongst themselves. Miles is staring ahead vacantly like he’s in shock, and any urge to harm Austin leaves me, because he doesn’t matter right now. Miles does. Miles looks like he’s seconds from breaking, and I’m out here doing nothing to help. I let go of the hold I have on Austin and take a step back. Austin takes his chance and runs out of the church, into the parking lot.

“God dammit, Shelly,” Dallas says to Austin’s mom as they storm by. “I swear to God, if he runs off again, I’m gone. I’ve begged you to be nicer to him, but you’re a fucking asshole all the time.” He pauses long enough to glare at me. “If you ever hit my boy again, I’m laying your ass out. You fucking hear me?”

I don’t even bother with a reply, just rush through the doors, toward Father Daddy. I make it halfway up the aisle before he quickly shakes his head, warning me off. It hurts. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t, but I also can’t lie and say I don’t know how scary this is for him. Coming out is a process every person should have the opportunity to do themselves. I won’t take this from him by storming the stage to comfort him.

So, because my daddy’s heart is breaking, I take my seat on the pew next to Mal.

There are hushed whispers traveling across the chapel, but none sound louder than the look Miles gives me. It’s a confusing swarm of emotions I can’t quite pinpoint. Love, for sure, but something else. Something bigger. Fear. Terror.

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