As Brent comes to the end of his introduction,he says, “And now, I won’t withhold the real hero of the day—a man whothankfully understands the need for STD testing, treatment, and education aswell as mental health care treatment for members of the LGBT community. A manwho championed this cause since the beginning and who has stood strong andsupported us every step of the way and allowed himself to be the forefront ofthis clinic….Mr. Tad Roarke.”
The audience applauds, but I knowtheir celebration has more to do with my encounter with the Fraziers than withthe clinic. Despite their appreciation, I feel a sort of distance between us. Ican’t trust their allegiance when the public switches back and forth as much asthey always do. It’s hard to believe in their support when it can just aseasily be taken from me. All they need is another rumor and their appreciationwill disappear just as quickly as it came.
The audience’s applause dies down.People chatter amongst themselves as I take a few deep breaths. Retrieving my folded-upspeech from my pocket, I begin.
Just gotta do what I do.
“Thank you again to everyone whoshowed up today…”
Sixty-Nine
Bryce
Fuck this.
I thought getting an Uber wouldget me to the clinic faster, but I must’ve typed the address in incorrectly,because it’s actually two streets over from where the driver dropped me off. AsI come to the edge of a bridge, I look down to the street below, where I cansee Tad standing on a makeshift stage before the clinic.
Behind him, a red bow is wrapped aroundtwo columns before the building, which he’ll be cutting to present the newclinic to the people of Dallas.
The crowd, filled with a fewreporters and camcorders, surrounds Tad, and he’s well within his element,brimming with that natural confidence and charisma that I’ve come to appreciateeven though I know it’s not the Tad I know.
As I survey the crowd, I notice aguy in a black hoodie pushing his way quickly through others to get to thefront. Noticing he has a hand in his pocket, I have a terrible feeling aboutthis guy. Despite my attempts to soothe my concern, I won’t feel good until I’mat Tad’s side.
I hurry down a set of stepsleading from the bridge to the street below, keeping my eye on the guy as herapidly approaches the stage.
I remind myself this could be likethe incident with the fan or the pap—that I could be making too big of a deal outof it because of everything that’s happened…because of what happened with Jeff.But just like with those incidents, I feel it’s better to be safe than sorry.
When I reach the street level, Ibust my ass to get to Tad. A few of the audience members turn to one anotherand whisper as they notice me moving quickly. Some of them must recognize me.
Tad stutters mid-speech andfollows some of the glances to me.
I look sharply to the guy in thehoodie. Then cock my head to signal for him to get the fuck off the stage.
As Tad spots him, the guy reachesinto the front pocket of his hoodie and retrieves a handgun.
It sucks to be right.
As the guy raises the gun, thepeople around him scatter.
The guy fires a round just asKiernan steps in Tad’s path. Tad grabs hold of Brent and drags him to the stagefloor with him.
Without my gun on me, there’s onlyone way to handle this. I rush the guy in the hoodie and bash my fist into hiselbow from behind. He drops the gun and I tackle him to the ground.
I lean back and punch him in theface. As my fist makes contact with his face, the hoodie drops back, revealinga girl who looks as though she’s in her teens. She has a scowl on her face asshe takes the hit.
“What the fuck?”
She can’t even be out of schoolyet. Fury in her eyes, blood rushing from her mouth, she cries out, “Sinnersmust repent!”
She scratches about wildly, and Irestrain her arms and pin them against her chest.
Two police officers hurry over toback me up.
Seventy
Tad
“Why is everyone so fucking worried about me?” Kiernan asks.
