Immoral by Nicole Dykes

Okay,so we haven’t solved a goddamn thing, but I don’t care. Right now, I just can’t bring myself to care that we haven’t defined shit.

I know I want him. I know he wants me. And for the past week, we’ve just been enjoying that fact. Because right now, that’s all we need.

We’ve kept it low-key, mostly just hanging out at Ryan’s house. We did manage to sneak out and get tested. I’m happy as fuck the results are back. His came in yesterday, and he’s totally clean. I just got the email that I’m good to go, and now, I’m waiting for Ry, who decided he needed to go pick up our food instead of having it delivered today.

The anticipation is killing me, but I’m ready for this. I’m ready to have all of him. When Ry gets back with the food, I’m on him at the door in an instant. My hand steals the food away from him and drops the paper bag to the floor as my lips trail over his neck. “Guess what?”

At that point, I realize he’s stiff and not kissing me back. When I pull back enough to look at his face, I see how pale he is.

“Ry? What’s wrong?”

“Umm . . .” His voice is strained as he places his keys on the table and picks up the bag of food from the ground, aimlessly walking toward the kitchen.

“Ry, you’re fucking scaring me. What happened?”

“I heard something on the radio.” He places the bag on the counter, and I reach for his hand, stopping him from going any further without telling me what the fuck is going on.

“What?”

His eyes finally lift, and I see sympathy in them. “Your dad . . .”

“What the fuck did he do now?” My hands are shaking. That motherfucker always brings out the worst reactions from me. Did he somehow find out about Ryan and me?

He reaches for his phone and then holds it up, showing me a picture of my father’s congregation members posed outside a mansion I know to be Vicky’s.

“That motherfucker.”

“Apparently, they didn’t like the news of his son’s girlfriend now dating a woman.”

I take a seat on the barstool conveniently placed at the counter island. “Of course, he wouldn’t.” I look at the headline, which states very clearly that the church’s leader is my father. “Fuck. They know.”

“How the hell did you keep this shit under wraps for so long?”

I run my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know. I really don’t. But I thought maybe, just maybe, my father would care so little about me, he’d just let me go.”

I feel Ry’s strong arms embrace me from behind. “I’m sorry.”

“I need to call Vicky. Apologize. No one knows about this part of my life.”

“Not even Waylon?” Ry’s pointing at something, and I realize it’s the security cam. Sure enough, right on time, Waylon is at the gate.

“Fuck. No. Not even him.”

Ry buzzes him in, and we wait out front for him as his car flies up toward the house and parks before Waylon climbs out and is coming in hot. “Seriously. That fucking psycho is your dad?”

“Yes.” Hot shame spreads through me. “That’s my father.”

“How could you not tell me that?”

I shrug, except I’m anything but nonchalant. I feel like shit just for having been born that man’s son. “It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s something I wanted buried.”

“We should probably go inside.” Ry opens the front door. “Who knows who’s watching.”

Waylon and I don’t argue, all of us heading into Ryan’s living room to sit down, but it’s Ry who speaks to Waylon before I can. “His father is a piece of shit, but as you can see, he’s gained a lot of followers, all spreading hate under the pretense of love.”

Waylon looks sick, and I can’t blame him. He’s spent his life fighting against people like my father and not just in his own life. He’s been an ally to so many and frequently volunteers with gay youths, trying to strengthen them. People like my father only threaten to undo all the good he’s done.

“How can you be related to him?”

Ry wraps his big arm around my shoulder. “I ask myself that all the time. But you know him, he’s nothing like his father.”

Although I appreciate it, it still makes me cringe. People have told me my entire life I’m the spitting image of my father.

“I know that.” Waylon’s eyes seem sympathetic. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was ashamed. I just wanted him to go the fuck away.”

He nods as if he understands. “You have the same last name? How am I only finding out about this?”

“I wanted to change my name. But the record label loved Bell, so they made me keep it. Said they could handle it.”

“They know?” Ryan seems surprised. Why, I’m not sure. He knows the game. They dug every single thing up about me before signing me.

Before I can answer, Waylon is turning on the television and immediately finding news coverage of the church gathering outside Vicky’s home. Thank God for the iron gate around her property, but it’s still unnerving.

These people are seriously psychotic. Last year, one of my father’s minions went to prison for bombing an abortion clinic. The year before that, the fuckers attacked a veteran who just got back from serving our country they claim to love.

“Clearly they can’t handle it.”

I don’t see Vicky, so she must be inside, probably scared out of her mind. “I need to call Vicky.” I stand up to reach into my pocket for my cell, but Waylon stops me.

“She’s fine.”

“How do you know?” I gesture toward the TV, my stomach dropping at the signs these people are holding up with sickening, hateful words.

“She’s on her way to an undisclosed location with her girlfriend for a few weeks. These assholes will get bored and move on soon enough.”

I sit back down and look up at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”

He waves me off, plopping down in one of Ry’s oversized chairs. “Please. I was way ahead of this shit. I just didn’t know he was your fucking father.”

Of course, he was ahead of it. Waylon is beyond amazing at his job. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“I get not wanting to be associated with him, Grady . . . But what the hell?”

“I didn’t want you to see me as part of him.” I feel Ry’s big hand on the back of my neck giving me a reassuring massage that I welcome. “I hate him.”

Waylon offers a sympathetic smile yet again. “Me too. But I know that’s not you. You aren’t your father.”

“I’ve let him take a lot of shit from me.” I look over at Ry’s solemn face, and I know he knows I mean him. If it weren’t for that asshole, maybe I would have tried harder to track down Ry a long time ago. I would have faced shit I’d buried.

“Well, if anything, people are only going to sympathize with you. I mean, with a father like that? You turned out pretty damn well.”

“Thanks, Waylon.”

“No more fucking secrets. I swear to God, if you have a love child somewhere you aren’t telling me about, I will kill you.”

“Me too,” Ry adds, and it actually makes me relax into him and laugh.

“Are you sure Vicky is okay?”

Waylon nods. “She’s okay. Really. She was worried about you.”

Of course, she was. I’m not sure how I got so goddamn lucky to have such good people in my life when honestly, I was doomed from the start. I could be like the rest of my family, blindly following my father and believing his bullshit lies.

I lean on Ry and smile to myself.

Growing up, I had him to commiserate with and question the shit my father was spewing.

If I didn’t have that, maybe I would have been lost in that world.