Ant’s jaw drops, and he smacks my chest. “Seriously?”
“Dude, you had no chill about it either. Gigi and Yaya used to crack up so much every timeLord of the Ringscame on. When you discovered the actor didn’t actually have long hair…”
“I was so devastated! I’d forgotten about that,” he says, leading me through the living room—large for a mobile home—past the bar and into the spacious kitchen, where coffee is already brewed. He reaches into the cabinet above the coffee maker and hands me a mug, already familiar with the place.
“So…is Erik your boyfriend?” I ask as he grabs a mug for himself. He startles and drops the cup, but I manage to catch it before it hits the floor.
“Good reflexes,” he mutters. “And no.”
“But you are gay?”
“Yes, obviously.” He quiets a moment, then asks, “Do you think that’s why my grandfather sold me?”
He asks the question lightly, but I suspect it’s one that’s weighed heavily on his mind for a while now. When working with someone trafficked, I’ve learned that trying to soften the truth isn’t helpful. So I tell him what I think.
“I didn’t know your grandfather well, but what I could see made me think he was very much like your father. Your father wanted you to be super macho, something you never were. So, yes. I believe your grandfather sold you because you are not the grandson he wanted.”
He takes a solid breath, squares his shoulders, and, looking me dead in the eye, gives me a sharp nod. “I always thought so. Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“I’ve spent the last ten years looking for the truth,” I say, barely above a whisper. I ache to put my arms around him, but I’m letting him lead the way.
“What was that noise?” Erik asks, coming in from his bedroom. He strides across the living room and stands on the other side of the bar, his eyes pinning me down.
I hold up the coffee cup. “Almost had a mug tragedy, but I caught it.”
Erik thins his lips at my words, his eyes taking in every particle of me from head to toe, weighing and judging. His eyes flick between Ant and me, and I sense he doesn’t like how close I’m standing.
I step back, and Erik’s body relaxes just a little.
“Ant was telling me you like a big breakfast. I do too. If you like, depending on what you have in your refrigerator, I’m happy to pull together a big Mexican breakfast for us.”
Erik looks to Antonio—Ant. “What do you think?”
He runs his thumb across the edge of the counter, swaying to and from it. “I think I’d like that.”
Pinning me in place with a sharp gaze, Erik gestures to the refrigerator. “You’re welcome to anything in there. I’ve got flour and corn tortillas, so use whatever you like.”
Pivoting on his heel, he goes back into his room.
I let out a measured breath. “He doesn’t like me very much, does he?”
“He’s probably waiting on the rest of your background check.”
That begs a question.
“I’ve got to ask… Why didn’t they do a background check on you? We’ve done everything possible to make it easy for you to find us. We put posts on adoption websites and genealogy websites, we ran ads…”
Ant shakes his head. “Charlie offered to look into my family, at least put my name on the reunification list, and I told him I didn’t want anything to do with that. Erik disagreed, but Charlie says the number one rule for working with people recovering from trafficking is to honor their requests. As far as I was concerned, that part of my life was over, and I didn’t want to be dragged into it ever again.”
I swallow thickly, remembering the shock on his face last night. “Is it because you thought we all rejected you? Because of the lies you were told?”
He bites his lower lip and carefully bobs his head.
“Does knowing that we never stopped looking for you…help?”
He grabs the carafe, sloshing some of its contents onto the counter, then goes quiet as he pours himself a cup.
“Help is a weird word,” he finally says, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a carton of half-and-half. “But yes, it does. I…I guess I wish I would have let them look.”
