“After that little setback, Mom is finally starting to feel better. I’m planning to come home early next week,” Brendan says.
“Really? That’s great!” Rory chirps. “But is she really getting better?”
“She is, but Dad is getting worse.” Brendan sighs. “He doesn’t want me to leave. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s worried about Mom or if he just doesn’t want to take care of her.”
“You’re damn right I don’t want you to leave. She’s your mother and she needs your help.” The asshole who I assume is Rory’s dad is screaming loudly in the background.
“Dad, don’t start.”
“Who are you talking to? Is it that faggot?”
I growl loudly, but Rory just curls into himself.
“I warned you about saying things like that while I’m here,” Brendan shouts.
“It’s true. He’s the biggest disappointment of my life.” I end the phone call and pull Rory even closer.
He’s crying softly now, and I want to kill his dad, but Rory doesn’t need my rage right now. He needs my love and comfort.
“Come on, rabbit.” I stand with him in my arms and walk over to the large office chair he’s claimed as his. The one he likes to nurse in if I leak after sex.
I open my shirt, and he quickly latches on. After letting him calm down for a few minutes, I speak softly.
“He’s wrong, rabbit.” Rory tenses. “You’re smart and caring and you see the good in people, but there’s none to be found in a man like that. Anyone who could treat their own child like that is a piece of shit.”
He smiles gently and moves to the other side. “You take such good care of me.”
Later that night, we’re lying in bed, and I’m just starting to doze off when Rory whispers, “Do you have any trouble with your parents?”
I scoff. “Not my father anymore.”
“Why? Was he mean to you? You’re manly and handsome, the perfect son.”
I don’t know if I want to tell Rory this story. “My dad was an abusive piece of shit.”
“No.” Rory gasps.
“He mostly hit my mom, but once we got older, I tried to shield her as much as I could.”
“No, Lex.” He’s crying softly as climbs onto me. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”
“It’s okay.”
“What happened?”
Do I lie?
“I killed him.”
“What?”
“He was drunk one night and passed out in his truck. I drove him into the lake.” As far as I know, no one’s ever found him. Not that anyone was looking for him. “Mom never asked any questions about where I went and what I was doing. She just bandaged my wounds and took care of Mal until she finally recovered enough to leave the house.”
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen.”
“Lex, that’s so young.”
