Page 33 of Cheater and the Saint
9
Leo
Saint hadn’t deserved to be the target of my anger. He’d only asked a question, one he probably believed to be innocent. But it’d made me remember things I didn’t want to remember. Made me remember the years of self-hate and trying to please people who weren’t worth the effort. Parents who later cast me out anyway.
As I got into my truck, I didn’t know where I was headed. I just needed to get away. After pulling out of the parking lot, I drove toward the back roads. Eventually, the town would fade in the distance, and I’d be in the country, away from everyone and everything.
For so long I’d hid my pain, buried it beneath wittiness and charm. Beneath promiscuity and partying. If I didn’t take life too seriously, I wouldn’t be forced to face reality. To face the demons of my past. So I’d fucked my way through too many forgettable faces in an effort to feel something other than the disgust that clawed beneath my skin.
My eyes watered, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry.
That day came flooding back to me; the day my dad found out about me and the boy I was seeing.
I’d known he and Mom were homophobes, because I’d heard them give their anti-gay speeches enough times throughout my childhood to forget that fact. I knew I liked both boys and girls when I was twelve, and out of fear, I’d never told anyone. I pretended I was straight and had only dated girls.
However, Jimmy Brooks was someone worth being out for. Or so I thought. I’d been sixteen and thought I was in love.
“Got in late last night,” my dad snapped as I walked through the living room.
I stopped and looked at him. He was in his recliner, looking like he hadn’t slept in days, and his beard was becoming unruly.
“Sorry. Jimmy and I lost track of time.”
Quicker than I thought possible, Dad was out of his chair and in front of me. He grabbed my neck and shoved me against the wall.
“Don’t think I don’t know about you, boy,” he growled, squeezing my throat tighter. His dark eyes burned into mine, and the smell of alcohol came off him in waves.
And then he slapped me.
My head snapped to the side, and a searing pain marked my cheek. I didn’t have the chance to register what was happening before he punched me in the gut. Doubling over, I tried to talk, but then he backhanded me across the face again.
“Fucking faggot,” he spat at me. “No son of mine will be a little cocksucker. Ya hear me, boy?”
“Dad, please!”
His fist collided with my jaw, and I flew backward, banging my head against the wall. Then his hand was around my throat again. Panicked, I looked at him and saw the hatred in his dark eyes.
“You’re disgusting,” he said, glaring at me. His thumb pushed into the side of my neck so hard that I choked. “He put a damn hickey on your neck. I know a girl didn’t put it there neither. You’re an abomination against God.”
I grabbed his wrist, trying to loosen his hold on my neck. “Dad, I can’t breathe!”
“I got a call from a friend this morning that said you were seen kissing that Brooks boy down by the creek yesterday.” He leaned forward and said in a low voice, “If I ever catch you doing it again, I don’t care if you’re my son or not. I’ll take you out back and put a bullet in your skull.”
Tears stung my eyes. “I love him.”
That earned me another punch, and as my head snapped to the left, I spit up some blood. I didn’t hesitate as I pushed past my dad and ran for the door. He screamed after me, but I didn’t stop.
Once outside, I just ran. My vision blurred with tears, and as my feet carried me across the gravel of my driveway and toward the main road, I couldn’t stop myself from full-blown crying. I hated myself. Hated what I was.
I’d pulled the truck over on the side of the road as the memory surfaced, and I finally gave into the grief working its way up my throat.
After that day, Dad told my mom about me and Jimmy, and they kicked me out. Heath had been twenty and already moved out at the time, and he took me in. The day I’d moved in with him was the day he’d started with all his protective shit. He didn’t see how a parent could throw their child away, and to this day, he didn’t speak to them, either.
Jimmy never spoke to me again. His parents hadn’t taken the news well. Last I heard, he was married to some doctor’s daughter now and had a baby on the way.
Grabbing my phone, I sent a text to Heath.
Me:Hey. What r u doin?
