Forsaking Truth (28 page)

Over the oncoming
weeks Luke began to truly question his state of mind. He’d avoided Tristan as
much as possible at work. The
sight of him never
failed to cause physical agony. Luke had gotten quiet. He’d lost interest in
everything. All he wanted to do was sleep and never wake up.

Weeks passed and
nothing improved. Things only got worse. One afternoon he was sitting in the
den w
ith his mom and dad watching the draft pick. He
couldn’t even muster a care about that.

He hadn’t thought
about his words. They simply slipped out as he sat on the couch watching the
analysts discuss players he didn’t know. “I’m gay.”

A sort of release ca
me with the quiet confession and it was the first time in
months he felt some of the pressure building inside of him ease. He looked at
his mom who was knitting booties for the newest McCullough. Did they hear him?
She smiled softly as her fingers continue
d to shape
the tiny socks. Letting out a maternal hum of contentment, she said, “I know,
love.”

Luke stilled. She
knew? How? Since when? His heart raced. He looked to his dad. The man placed
the remote on the table and sighed. Standing, he left the room.

C
rap. Guilt and shame bloomed inside of him like ugly spills
of oil bleeding over his last tiny shred of calm. But what was worse was the
fear of his father’s rejection, the absolute terror that he’d never look at him
the same. His dad needed to at least ac
knowledge his
statement. It was cruel to ignore it. His father was a good guy. Why wasn’t he—

His dad came back in
the room and handed Luke an envelope. Luke took it and glanced up at his
father, his eyes questioning. Fear and raw vulnerability tore at his
insides so hard his fingers shook. What was in the
envelope? If it meant losing his father he’d take it all back. His parents were
all he had left.

“Open it,” Frank said.

Luke’s chest tightened
as he struggled with the lip of the seal. He pulled out a she
af of papers. They looked like legal documents. “What is
this?”

“That’s the deed for
your land. I gave each of the kids their own acreage to build on when they got
married. Your portions from the barn and six acres back to the east of the big
house. There
’s a space on the bottom for you to add a
name.”

His chin quivered. It
actually quivered.

His dad cleared his
throat and held out his arms. “Let’s hug it out.”

Luke didn’t think he
could stand. He wished Tristan was there with him. He’d hand him a pen an
d have him sign on the dotted line. But he wasn’t. Because
Luke had thrown him out of his life like yesterday’s trash.

They weren’t turning
their backs on him. They were welcoming him with open arms. Jesus. It should
have felt better than this, but all he
could focus on
was the regret, the years he hadn’t had the faith he needed in his family’s
love to accept him as he was.

Slowly he stood and
his dad wrapped him in his burly arms. His father kissed his neck and squeezed
him hard. “I love you, son.”

“Oh, fo
r the love of Mike,” his mum said, tossing the knitting
aside. “You aren’t supposed to hug without me.”

She bustled over and
hugged him from behind. Luke laughed as her warm form cocooned him. He’d never
forget this moment and again he suffered regret that
Tristan wasn’t here to share it.

After the hugs and
tears concluded his father handed him a beer like nothing out of the ordinary
had happened. He felt awkward, acutely aware of himself, and sort of lighter.

The draft picks went
on, but they slowly start
ed talking. He wanted to be
honest—for once—so he didn’t shy away when they asked the hard questions. But
their questions never bordered on personal things he didn’t want to share. They
were merely queries about how Luke wanted to proceed.

“Do your brother
s and sisters know, love?” his mother asked.

“Kelly knows and
Sheilagh knows. And Tristan.”

His mother’s smile
turned sad. “I miss seeing Tristan around. You should tell him to come by again
soon.”

He swallowed. If it
were only that easy.

“And what about t
he others?” his father asked. “Will you be announcing
yourself to everyone now?” He didn’t ask in a way that told Luke he preferred
one answer over the other.

“No. It’s private,
sort of an ask but don’t tell thing.”

“That’s probably wise.
There’s some craz
y bastards around here and you don’t
want any more trouble than you need.”

“Exactly.”

His mum smiled. “Well,
your secrets safe with me, love. I’ve known for years. Been waitin’ around for
you to come fix my drapes and help me redecorate, but I guess you’re
not that kind of gay, now are you?”

He snorted. “No, Mum,
I’m not that kind. I’m just same old Luke.”

She grinned and
tousled his hair. “That’s all right. Got plenty of others to help me decorate
and sometimes I think the old stuff’s fine just the way it
is.”

“Tristan told me he
may be moving.”

Luke turned to his
father.
“What?”

“I’m figuring he’s
your partner—or was. I thought maybe you’d want to know.”

“Where’s he going?”

“He didn’t say. Just
said that he was thinking it might be time for him to move out
of Rosemarie’s and find a new place to call home.”

His mum tsked. “Oh,
but that can’t happen. Luke, honey, you need to set him straight.” She paused
and her cheeks flushed. “I mean…not straight…Oh, you know what I bloody meant!
Make him see.”

Something dr
y and hard had lodged in his chest. In a gravelly voice he
said, “I can’t.”

His mother made a
sound of exasperation. “Of course you can. That’s what marriage is. Your father
pisses me off all the time. But I forgive him, because I love him. Say sorry
for w
hatever you did and it will work itself out.”

If only it was that
simple.

“Do gay men like
getting flowers?” she asked.

“No man wants flowers,
Maureen,” his father said.

“Well, then maybe some
nice Godiva chocolates. They always make me a little more ratio
nal.”

“Woman, you haven’t
been rational a day in your life.”

Luke stood. “I have to
go.” He needed to find someone who knew more about what was going on with
Tristan. Maybe Ryan knew.

He looked back at his
parents who were having an argument that looked a
lot
like foreplay. Gross. “Listen, thanks for…just…thanks.”

They each stopped
bickering and smiled at him. “That’s what family does, Luke. We love. No matter
what.”

Luke left and texted
Ryan.
Where are you?

The phone buzzed back
a second later.
Why?

He si
ghed, knowing he wasn’t his cousin’s favorite person at the
moment.
I need to talk to you.

Ryan replied a minute
later.
I’m not the one you need to talk to. I
have nothing to say to you.

Luke glared at his
phone and wavered. “Damn it.” He punched out anoth
er
text.
Where is he?

His cousin’s reply was
quick.
Are you gonna be a dick?

No! I need to talk to him. Please, just
tell me where he is.
Luke hit send and waited.

It took over five
minutes for the reply to come through.
He said he’d meet you at O’Malley’s
.

He didn’t waste time
punching out a reply. He grabbed his keys and barely slowed at every stop sign
along the way. When he got to the pub, he rushed through the door and scanned
the room.

Where was he?

He went to the bar.
“Kelly, you seen Tristan?”

His
brother turned and arched a brow. “He was just here. A
bunch of guys were hassling him. I threw them out. He might of left.”

Luke’s brow lowered.
“What guys? Who?”

“I don’t know them.
Saw the one around a few times—big burly red head—but I don’t know his n
ame.”

“Dalton.”

“Is that his name?
He’s an asshole. How do you know him?”

Luke didn’t answer. He
scanned the bar again. Fuck. “Kelly, where did Tristan go?”

“I told you, he might
have left. Check the john.”

Luke took off to the
bathroom. When he found it
empty something horrible
coiled in his stomach. He returned to his brother. “How long after you kicked
those guys out do you think Tristan left?”

Kelly seemed to
finally register his panic. “I’m not sure. Why?”

Luke breathed hard.
“They work with us. Dalto
n hates Tristan.” Jesus. He
needed to find him. He met his brother’s eyes. Fear of something so much worse
than his family’s disapproval had him panicking. “He hates gay people.”

“Fuck. Do you want me
to call Sue in so I can help you find him?”

There wasn’
t time. “No,” Luke said pulling his phone out. “I’ll call
you if I need anything. Hopefully he just went home.”

He’d dialed Tristan’s
number before he reached the truck. It rang four times and went to voicemail.
“Fuck!”

He dialed again as he
drove, his ey
es peeled for signs of Tristan’s truck.
He went past his aunt’s but Tristan’s truck wasn’t there so he kept driving.
Where the hell would he have gone? Thinking back to all the places they’d met
up in secret he drove to the industrial park. It was empty.

H
e’d thought about Murphy’s, the Irish pub on the outskirts
of town none of them went to because it wasn’t O’Malley’s. Would he have gone
there? It was his last hope.

He cut the wheel and
headed that way. It seemed to take forever to get there and Tristan s
till wasn’t answering his phone. “Answer the God damn
phone!” He drove slowly past Murphy’s. It was small and dingy and there were
only a few cars in the lot, which made it easy to spot Tristan’s truck.

His relief was short
lived as he pulled in the lot an
d saw Dalton’s SUV
parked there as well. Luke’s jaw locked as he tore into a parking space. When
his headlights flashed over the shadows a voice inside of him screamed.

Two guys held Tristan
by the arms and three others took turns swinging at him. His bloo
d turned to ice as he rushed out of the truck like an
animal possessed. Tristan’s head hung low between his shoulders and he didn’t
move when Luke charged in his direction roaring like a rabid beast just as
Dalton was about to swing.

“Don’t fucking touch h
im!”

Dalton turned and a
slow reptilian grin climbed over his ugly face. Luke was in too much of a rage
to hear whatever he said. He ran to Tristan who still wasn’t moving, his knees
buckled and body limp.

“Tristan!”

Arms grabbed hold of
him and he snappe
d. His fists swung and collided with
flesh and bone as they dragged him back. He was strong, but there were too many
of them. Someone’s foot caught him hard in the jaw and he tasted blood.
“Tristan!”

Hands grabbed at his
limbs and dragged him to the ground
as he fought and
struggled to reach Tristan.
Open your eyes!
“Tristan!” He screamed his name again as
his body buckled under the force of his attackers.

Luke’s scream was only
a wheeze as the wind was kicked out of him again and again. Then someone stepp
ed on his bad knee and he felt a horrible snap and vomited.