Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy (Murder Daddy #3)

10. Benji

CHAPTER 10

BENJI

I don’t know what we did to make Dad upset, but he hasn’t spoken to us all morning. After everything that happened last night, I thought we were finally going to be happy, now I’m not so sure, and it’s eating me up inside.

After Dad gave us the green light, we slept right next to him in the big bed. Well . . . we started off sleeping on either side of him, but it felt wrong without Bennet beside me. Thankfully, that lasted all of two minutes before Bennet heard me sniffling and climbed over Dad to get to me, kneeing him in the nuts in the process. As Dad writhed and wriggled around on the bed in agony, Bennet straddled my lap and pressed soft kisses all over my face. Once Dad stopped acting like he was starring on a really bad soap opera, Bennet and I turned horizontally in bed, using Dad’s chest for a pillow. He was a really good pillow. Maybe even the best pillow. When we woke up, he was already downstairs.

Things feel different. Sure, he offered us both a quick peck on the lips when we came down, but then he asked us to give him space today, because he’s working through stuff in his head. He’s been locked in his room ever since. Now and then I can hear his feet travel across the floorboards above us, but for the most part, he’s been silent.

He must realize we’re scared, because he’s sent us texts every ten minutes reminding us this is real between us, and that he loves us. I don’t know what the problem is. We love him and he loves us. What’s left for him to work through?

Bennet’s been cuddling with me all morning. I think he knows how much I need it, so he’s refusing to leave my side. There’s an episode of Real Housewives playing, but even Heather Dubrow and her glorious eyebrows can’t pull me out of this funk.

“He’s going to break up with us,” I whine, because it’s the elephant in the room and I’m sick of it occupying space. “He’s going to dump us, then we’re going to be homeless. We don’t have anyone, Bennet. What are we supposed to do now?”

“He’s not going to break up with us,” he says, probably trying to soothe me, but if that’s his goal, it isn’t working. My body’s a bundle of nerves at the moment, and there aren’t enough well-meant placations in the world to ease my troubled soul.

Bennet opens his mouth to speak but snaps it shut when Dad’s bedroom door opens and his footsteps thud down the stairs. I cling to Bennet, burying my face in his chest so I don’t have to look at Dad when he tells us this thing isn’t going to happen.

“Boys,” he says, and his voice sounds absolutely wrecked. It’s cracked and raw and filled with heartache. Then again, it is a bit difficult to judge when I’ve got my face hidden by Bennet’s chest. “We need to talk.”

We need to talk.

God. Has anything good ever come after those words? They’re the kiss of death. A final nail in the coffin. Three words that shatter me down to dust until I’m softly crying into Bennet’s chest. Bennet’s hands wrap around my back and hold me against him until it feels like I can’t even move. Good. I don’t want to move. I just want to stay here in this moment, before Dad takes everything he promised last night and tosses it in the trash.

I feel him, though. Dad’s right beside me, his presence unwavering. There’s warm breath against my cheek, and I catch the scent of his cinnamon toothpaste. “Can you look at me, little man?”

I shake my head, because I don’t think I can. The act of pulling away from Bennet feels physically impossible. Dad’s about to break my heart, and I can’t tear myself away from Bennet to watch it happen.

“We only just got you and now you’re taking it all away,” I say, hating myself for how weak I sound. I know I need to be strong so I don’t seem pathetic, but I can’t. How can I be strong when Dad’s done with this silly little courtship idea? Will I even get to call him Dad anymore?

“What are you talking about? I’m not taking anything away. Benji, baby, I need you to look at me.”

Reluctantly, I pry myself away from Bennet and look Dad in the eyes, because he keeps saying that’s what good boys do. I don’t want to be a good boy, though. Not if it means facing the reality that Bennet and I are so unlovable we’ve managed to chase away yet another man who may or may not be the love of our lives. Dad’s sitting next to me on the sofa, and the warmth in his eyes gives me the smallest spark of hope.

“Are y-you b-breaking up with us?” I ask, stumbling over the words. Dad’s eyes bulge and his mouth hangs open like I’ve just slapped him.

“Is that what you thought?” he asks, grabbing my hand and squeezing tight. “Oh, sweetheart, no. Of course, I’m not breaking up with you. God help me, I’m into this just as much as you boys are. Last night, I promised I would take care of you both. I just needed time to think of the logistics. If we’re doing this, there are things that have to be addressed.”

“What kind of things?” Bennet asks.

“Well, for starters, there’s my son. He’s expressly forbidden me from dating either of you, and before we move forward, we have to tell him. I can’t lie to him. Not again. Not after everything with the divorce. I’m not going to keep you boys as a dirty little secret. You mean the world to me, and I won’t pretend otherwise. If you still want this, we have to have the conversation.”

My jaw drops and all I can do is stare at him like I’m stupid. He can’t be serious. “But, Dad,” I say, my voice sounding a bit more whiny than I intended, but that’s okay. He won’t look down on me for it. “He’s going to hate us.”

Dad cups my cheek and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. “I promise, it’s all going to work out. I don’t know how, but I’ll sort it out. I always do, don’t I?” He waits for our nod before continuing, “I won’t lie to Tatum. Not about us. I’m not keeping you boys hidden from anyone.”

“But what if he says we can’t date you? What if he tells you to kick us out?”

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Son, when has Tatum ever done anything to make you think he’d want to see you homeless? You’re not going anywhere. Tatum is a grown man, he’s perfectly capable of behaving like a rational . . . Well. You know what I mean.” He’s right to stop himself, because I think we all know that’s not true. I love our ex-boyfriend, but maturity isn’t his strong point. “I’ll tell him this is the way things are, and he’ll need to come to terms with it.”

“I’m scared,” I admit. “We only just got you, and now?—”

He silences me with a kiss, deeper than any of the ones before. Then, Bennet enters the mix, kissing the side of Dad’s face. Nipping playfully at my chin. Tickling my tummy. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt this complete in all my life, and I want to rip off the Band-Aid now to save myself from falling even deeper into something that might be taken from me. I break the kiss and look into Dad’s love-drunk eyes. God. He really is into this, isn’t he? He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

“Call Tatum,” I tell him. “I want to get this over with. If we don’t get to have this for forever, I’d rather know now, because . . . because I’m in love with you, Dad, and I couldn’t handle loving you even more, just to have it taken away.”

Dad smiles at me, but I know his heart’s not in it. He’s just as worried as I am. I know Tatum is his blood relation, but I’m just as much a son as him, and knowing Tatum holds the power to take it all away makes me resent him. He got his happy ending already. When is it supposed to be our turn?

Dad sighs as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. He initiates a video call with Tatum, and I curl up at Bennet’s side, letting him hold me.

“It’s going to be okay,” he tells me, but our pseudo twin powers also tell me he doesn’t believe the words at all.

“All or nothing,” I whisper.

He squeezes my hand, using the other to touch my half of our half-heart necklace. “Beginning to end.”

Dad stares at us with a determined expression. “Forever and ever.”

Bennet and I both suck in a sharp breath, because that’s the part that’s been missing. Though the saying has always kept us tethered, it never kept us grounded. Dad’s addition to our childhood promise feels truer than anything has ever felt.

“Bennet,” I whisper, looking over at him. He’s just as moved by it as I am. He looks like someone’s just rocked his entire world. And I suppose Dad has.

Before Dad can respond, Tatum’s voice cries out through the phone’s speaker. “Jesus, Abi. Yeah. Yeah, Daddy, just like that.” I look at the phone and have to giggle, because all I can see is Tatum’s sweaty face as he bounces up and down.

“Is he . . .” I don’t know why I’m even asking. It’s clear as day what he’s doing.

“Hey, Dad,” he says breathlessly, not making eye contact. “What’s up?”

Dad looks absolutely scandalized. “Why would you answer the phone?” he groans. “Good Lord, I saw enough of that at the wedding. Well, I saw enough of Abi, at least.”

“Hello, Dad,” Tatum’s husband says off screen, his thick Russian accent sounding absolutely obscene as he obliterates Tatum’s hole.

“Good morning, son,” Dad says with a sigh, scrubbing his face with his hand. On the other side of the screen, Tatum’s bed squeaks, their thrusts coming faster and harder.

“Hold on,” Tatum says. “Just . . . just give me a few seconds and I’ll—Oh, fuck, Abi. Yeah. Yeah, Daddy. Please? Please make me come.” Tatum’s eyes roll back in his head as he comes to an abrupt halt, screaming his husband’s name as he announces to all of us that he’s coming.

And Bennet says we have boundary issues.

Tatum pants and gasps as he tries to catch his breath, his forehead drenched in sweat. Once he’s breathing steadily, he lies on the bed, kissing his husband before Abi announces that he’s going to give us privacy. In the background, their cabin’s door opens and closes, and Tatum stares euphorically into the camera.

“So, what’s up?” he finally asks.

“Son, I think it’s time for us to have a talk,” Dad says, making me shake with nerves. This is the part where we lose him, and it kills me to know it’s coming. “Things have happened here, and you need to know.” He doesn’t sound like he’s asking permission. He’s simply telling his son the facts as they are. It ignites the smallest spark of hope in my heart that things might work out for us.

Any rosy hue that might have been dotting Tatum’s cheeks vanishes and he quickly sits up in bed. “What’s wrong? Is everyone okay?”

Dad takes a deep breath and holds it in. Once he releases, he scoots closer to us, pulling me onto his lap, then reaches over to carefully pull Bennet to his side. “They couldn’t be better, Tate.”

It takes a moment for it to register with him, but once it does, Tatum looks like he’s ready to jump through the phone and kick our asses, which, yeah, fair. Still, it’s not as if we’ve killed anyone. He hasn’t stolen us from a happy home or anything. We’ve just stumbled into a situationship with the potential for more. I need Tatum to be okay with this.

“Tatum,” I start, but the glare he gives through the phone is enough to stop me in my tracks.

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks with enough venom in his tone to put a rattlesnake to shame. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. Do you hear me? Not today, not yesterday, and not any other day.”

“Tatum,” I plead.

“Don’t you dare give me those puppy-dog eyes, Benjamin Applebaum. I’m in no mood. What’s next? Are you going to fuck my uncle Tyler? Do you want to dig a small hole over my grandfather’s grave and breed him? Where does the madness stop? This is actual insanity. He’s my father!”

“And he’s our Daddy,” I tell him, my voice sterner than it has any right being. I love Tatum, but I’m not going to sit back and let him take this from us without putting up a hell of a fight first. “We love him.”

“So, that’s what this is?” Tatum’s glaring at me, and going off the look in his eyes, I’m pretty sure he’d punch me if he were here. “You couldn’t find a Daddy, so you stole my dad? I swear to God, Benji. Where the hell do you get off?”

“In your father’s mouth, hopefully,” I say. I know it’s a bit much, but I don’t care. He’s being an asshole right now. We didn’t give him hell when he and his giant boyfriend drugged us for a week after being rescued. We didn’t bat an eye when Tatum asked us to jack off with all his friends as he railed his husband for the first time during their wedding reception. He has no right to be so cruel.

“I will fucking demolish you,” Tatum hisses.

“Tatum,” Bennet whispers. “Please? We’re not trying to hurt you. We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it has.” He looks up at Dad with tears in his eyes. “We love him.”

“I don’t give a damn who you think you love. This isn’t happening. Get it out of your heads. I swear to the Goddess, if you even think of penetrating the St. James family lineage, I will tear you fucking asunder!”

“Asunder?” I ask, because I’m not really sure what that word means. Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good, but I’ve got a few choice words for him too.

“You will rue this day,” he growls. “Do you hear me? I will see to it.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m gonna take a bottle of hawaiian punch and?—”

“Enough!” Dad barks, startling all three of us. “You left, Tate. Now, I understand you’re frustrated, and I acknowledge my part in this emotional downfall era you seem to be in, but Benji and Bennet are family. They’re ours, son.”

“They are not my family. They’re my ex-boyfriends who, up until five minutes ago, I thought were doing well. Now it seems they’ve fallen headfirst into depravity.” He narrows his eyes. “Have you fucked them?”

Dad’s jaw drops. “Who I do or do not sleep with is none of your concern.”

“It’s my business if my father’s fallen prey to a pack of harlots with a non-existent moral compass. How long did it take, huh? How long before they had you hovering over them in bed, stuffing them like a festive Christmas turkey?”

“Excuse me?”

“Dad, it’s okay,” I say, squeezing his thigh. I hate seeing him like this. He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met, and he doesn’t deserve any of the rage Tatum’s directing his way.

“It is not in any way okay. He just insinuated that you’re predators. No one gets to talk to you like that. Never again, remember? I swore it. Forever and ever. I don’t care if it’s the monster or if it’s my own flesh and blood. No one ever gets to make you feel less than what you are to me.”

“What am I?” I ask, my heart fluttering in my chest.

Dad studies my face, then Bennet’s. “You’re the very best part of my day. Both of you. I’ve been lonely for years, and you boys make me feel like I never have to be lonely again. After Tatum moved away, I used to dread coming home. I would spend hours waiting on a wife who barely acknowledged I was in the room. You boys make me feel like I belong, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone hurt you again. You’re mine. I don’t care what anyone says on the matter. Do you hear me? You’re mine. Both of you.” On the screen, Tatum’s looking wonderstruck by the exchange, but his expression doesn’t ease Dad’s anger. They stare at each other for an uncomfortable length of time before Dad finally says, “I apologize if it bothers you that I’m having a late-life bisexual awakening, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love them. They’re my world, so if you’ve got a problem with it, I suggest you sort it out, because they’re not going anywhere. I’m going to look after them. I’m going to take care of them for as long as they’ll let me.”

“Dad—” Tatum starts, only to be cut off.

“This is their home. I am their home. We’re a package deal. If you want to tell me I can’t pursue anything with them, then you just bring your ass down here, and tell me to my face. Until then, I don’t want to hear a single word. I swear to God, Tatum. I ask you for nothing, and I expect nothing, because I want you to be able to live your life in bliss without worrying about having to call and check on me every five minutes. I’ve asked for nothing, and that’s exactly what you give in return. Not a goddamn thing. When was the last time you called me? When’s the last time you responded to any of my texts?”

I’ve never heard Dad sound this angry before or throw out swear words with abandon. He’s always so calm and collected. It feels like that part in The Wizard of Oz where they pull back the curtain to find a Grumpy Gus on the other side. Has this version of Nate St. James been hidden here all along? Or, has he simply reached his boiling point, choosing this moment to voice the bitter resentment festering inside.

“Dad, I didn’t . . .”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “As I said, if you have something to say to me, then you come down here and say it in person. Until then, don’t you dare try to tell me how I should or shouldn’t live my life. I don’t answer to you, son.” Dad flings the phone onto the coffee table and stands up. He makes his way toward the foyer, pausing at the doorframe. Tatum’s still there, staring up at the ceiling, looking white as a ghost.

“Boys?”

“Yes, sir?” we ask.

Without looking back, Dad says, “Get dressed. Pick something that makes you feel pretty.”

“Why?” Bennet asks.

He looks over his shoulder and gives Bennet a clipped nod. “Because I’m taking my boyfriends on our first date.”

He storms upstairs, his feet slamming against each step, making the walls rattle. All I can do is stare at Bennet, trying to make sense of this. Tatum’s sniffle pulls me out of the moment, and when I grab the phone and pick it up, I stare at my ex- boyfriend, hoping my disappointment in his behavior is clear enough on my face.

“Please?” Bennet whispers, his voice small and fragile. He looks up at the screen with pleading eyes. “We love him, Tater Tot. He makes us happy. Please don’t take that away from us.”

Tatum stares at us for a solid minute, not speaking, barely breathing. Eventually, he says, “Tell Dad I’ll be on the next flight to Dallas.”

“Tatum?” I question. Is he really coming down here to tell Dad he can’t love us anymore? He wouldn’t actually do that, would he? Does he think we’re trying to steal his dad from him? Is he worried we’re doing this to overthrow the hierarchy of his family? “You don’t have to call us Dad, if that’s what’s got you worried.”

“Ah, hell,” Bennet groans, falling back against the sofa cushion. “Here we go.”

Tatum’s eyes bulge. “You’re goddamn right I won’t be calling you Dad. You’re lucky I haven’t placed a hit on you for this. My husband’s an assassin. Did you forget about that while you were fucking my father?”

Okay, well now I’m getting angry, because death threats are uncalled for. “Nope. I don’t forget anything, unlike you. I don’t forget the people I love when my life starts unfolding for the better. You’re selfish, Tatum. You’re selfish, and you’re a jerk, just like your stupid friend Scotty.”

“Selfish?” he repeats, gaping at me as I nod. It’s been almost a year since I’ve spoken to anyone with this much bitterness peppering my tone. If Tatum were here right now, I’d pop him in the mouth and tell him to watch his hateful words.

“You don’t know how bad he’s been hurting. But then, how would you? You left us there with the monster. You didn’t even try to bring us with you when you ran away. Then you blasted back in our lives for a couple of weeks, only to fuck off back to Washington, leaving us all alone again. You haven’t seen or spoken to us in months. You’re damn right, you’re fucking selfish, Tatum.” I narrow my eyes. “And do you know what?”

He swallows, and I see a small hint of fear that will probably earn me an early death at the hands of his husband, but I don’t care.

“What?” he asks, his voice shaking.

“You really don’t want to play this game with me.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a fucking oath. I swear to God, Tatum. If you even think about breaking us up, I’ll destroy you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He’s attempting to sound threatening, but he’s still staring at me, looking frightened. His voice is small and broken when he adds, “If you ever threaten me again, I’ll sic Abi on you. He’ll kill you.”

“And just for that”—I narrow my eyes—“I’m going to fuck your father. I’m going to fuck every trace of heterosexuality out of your dad until he’s a cum-drunk mess of a man. And do you know what I’m going to do when I’m done?”

His jaw trembles. “What?”

“I’m going to ask him to adopt me just to drive the knife in deeper. I’ll be his favorite son, since you don’t seem to give a damn about the honor that title holds. You’re a selfish boyfriend, and you’re an even worse son. Do better. Be better.” Before he can respond—not that he would, judging by the tears in his eyes—I end the call and hop up from the couch. Bennet’s staring at me like I’ve just split the sea like Moses or something. “Come on. Let’s pick out something cute to wear. Dad’s waiting.”