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

13. Bennet

CHAPTER 13

BENNET

T hey look so beautiful this way. Wrapped up in each other. Sleeping peacefully like the whole world’s not at risk of collapse. As much as I want to stay here cuddled up in their love, there’s something else I have to do. Something so scary, the thought alone my hands shake the entire journey downstairs.

I tiptoe to the kitchen, grabbing my phone from where I left it on the table. As quietly as I can, I let myself out the back door and take a seat on Daddy’s patio furniture. For a moment, I debate kicking back in one of the Adirondack chairs, but settle for the white wicker sofa. There’s a fire pit in front of me, and it’s a little chilly, but I don’t want to wake up Daddy or Benji if they see the fire crackling below the bedroom window.

Daddy keeps telling me I’m strong and that I’m his good boy—his big boy—but I don’t feel very strong, and I definitely don’t feel like a big boy right now. Hell, I have to stare at my phone for ten minutes, just working up the courage to place the call.

It rings twice before he picks up.

“This better be good,” Tatum says. His voice is harsh, but not as harsh as it sounded earlier. Maybe he’s calmed down a little. “I’m in fucking California, Bennet, because my moronic husband decided to book tickets through Spirit, and now we’re in layover hell. I swear to Rinna, if you add to my upset, your ending will be merciless.”

His words are hateful, but they usually are. It puts me at ease, because this is the Tatum I know. The Tatum I fell in love with. If he was speaking calmly, I would be terrified, but this is a tango we’ve danced countless times.

“Did you threaten to withhold anal entry for a day or two as punishment?”

“That would just be punishing myself, and I’ve done absolutely nothing to be punished over.”

Debatable.

“True,” I lie. “So, when will you be here?”

“We’re supposed to land this morning at ten, if all goes according to plan. Then we’ll rent a car and head that way. So, an extra two hours, give or take.”

Wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear, I pull my legs into the chair, crossing them in front of me. It takes me a second to build up the courage to say what needs to be said, and the entire time, Tatum just sits there, not pushing me to speak.

“Tatum?” I try my hardest. Really, I do, but I can’t get the words to come out. I know I need to say them for Benji’s sake, but once they’re said, I’ll have our answer, and I don’t think I’m going to like Tatum’s answer. I sniff, my eyes growing a little misty at the thought of losing our Daddy.

“Dammit,” he finally whispers. “Fine. Talk to me, Bennet.”

My lip trembles, and I’m so close to breaking I can feel the cracks forming through my body. “Benji needs him, Tate. We both do. You don’t know how lonely we’ve been. He makes Benji so happy, and he hasn’t been happy in a really long time.”

Tatum sighs like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders. “If you think I’m giving you the green light to fuck my father, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Just come here and see what he’s like around us. See how much happier he is.”

“This is madness.” He sounds so defeated, and while it makes my heart hurt for him, it also makes me swell with hope, because maybe there’s still a chance. If we can just show Tatum how good we are for Nate, maybe he’ll see it. The potential. This new family we’re creating. I want to be a part of that family, and I want Tatum to be part of it, too. “You don’t kiss him in front of me. Understood? No finger warming at the dinner table. No cheeky games of Murder Daddy throughout the visit.”

I know he probably expects us to be just as unhinged as he and Scotty are with their husbands, but that’s not us. That was never going to be our story. What Nate, Benji, and I share is a gentle romance. There are no threats of murder or unnecessary exhibitionist traits for us to either own or overcome, just our truth. A truth Tatum deserves to know.

“I’ll try to be respectful, but I can’t promise Benji will. You know what he’s like.”

Tatum snorts. “You’re goddessdamned right. He slapped me in the face for telling him to stop stroking Benito’s cock at McDonald’s that time.”

My entire body goes stiff, and it feels like he’s just punched me. Why am I still like this? Why the fuck can’t I hear the monster’s name without curling in on myself?

“Please don’t say his name. It’s still—We don’t say it.”

“Oh, Bennet,” he soothes with more care than I’ve ever heard from him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He goes quiet, but I don’t think he’s expecting an answer. It feels like he’s thinking something through. “I didn’t realize it was still that bad. Fuck.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re okay, for the most part.”

“No, I wasn’t saying ‘fuck’ because of that, I just . . . I did something stupid. Listen, there’s going to be a large box delivered in the morning. Whatever you do, I don’t want you to open it. Do you hear me? Under no circumstances. Not until I’m there. I was going to text you and mention it in the morning, but I think it’s imperative I tell you now.”

“What are you?—”

“Don’t open it. Say it, Bennet.”

“Okay! Jesus. Fine. I won’t open the box.”

He lets out a breath of relief. “And don’t let him open it either.”

“Who? Daddy?” The title leaves me before it’s even registered, and the second it’s out, I know I’ve messed up.

“Absolutely not!” he shouts, probably startling the other Spirit Airlines customers around him. Haven’t they already suffered enough? “It is far too fucking soon for that. You will not call him Daddy in front of me. Are the words registering?”

“I can try, but it slips out so easy, I don’t know how successful I’ll be.”

“Yeah, well, you fucking better hope you are. As the Goddess is my witness?—”

“Bored now. Have a safe trip.” I’m not really bored, I just don’t want to hear him yell at me. Not with images of the monster fresh in my mind.

“Don’t you dare hang up on?—”

I end the call and fall back against the chair, trying to steady my racing heart. Surprisingly, I’m not startled when someone’s hand touches my shoulder. His presence never frightens me, even when he sneaks up on me like this. I hold my hand over his, not ready to look at him yet.

“I’m okay,” I say, because I think I am for the most part.

His other arm wraps around me from behind, squeezing me affectionately. “Sorry,” Daddy says, his voice much calmer and more collected than I currently feel. “I woke up and you were gone, I got worried. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know we’re no longer in our all-is-lost era.”

God, I love this man. Wanting to put a smile on his face, I tilt my head, staring up at him staring down at me. “Please don’t work ‘era’ into everyday dialogue, Daddy.” I reach up and tap the underside of his nose’s tip. “You’re in your forties.”

He arches an eyebrow at me. “Are you calling me old, little guy?”

“Old er ,” I correct him. “But that’s why we love you.”

His smile widens. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over hearing that from you.” He pats my thigh, motioning for me to scoot over. I know we can’t stay here long, because if Benji wakes up without either of us, he’ll be scared. Two or three minutes can’t hurt, though. To my surprise, when Nate sits beside me, he rests his head on my shoulder. It’s such a simple gesture, but it’s one that makes my heart leap in my chest. It’s only now I realize he needs me just as much as I need him. Daddy’s stronger than me in every way, but sometimes, even the strongest men need support.

“Daddy, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” I say softly. His hand is right there for the taking, so I take it. “I know you like to be the strong one, but I can be strong too. I have you. We have you.”

“I know. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Bennet. I wish you could see yourself the way I do.” He peeks up at me, and I find myself captivated by his thick lashes. They’re so dark it makes Daddy look like he’s wearing mascara. I rub my finger across the bag under his eye.

“What do you see?”

He buries his face in my neck, and I’m pretty sure I feel him give me a kiss. “One third of my heart, son.”

“Me too. But with you.” I kiss his scalp the way he usually kisses mine when he knows I need to be coddled. “Tatum said he mailed something to us, but we can’t open it until he gets here.” I feel his body tense, so I grip his hand even harder to make sure he feels me. “I really think it’s going to be okay. He calmed down since we talked earlier.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you,” he says, his voice so small it doesn’t even sound like Daddy at all. “I can’t lose either of you.”

“It’s your lucky day.” I try to put a bit of cheer in my voice to lift his spirits, and I think it works. “We’re not going anywhere. You’re stuck with us forever. Too bad, so sad.”

He tips my chin up and approaches slowly, his eyes closing. The feeling of his breath mixing with mine leaves me feeling a little dizzy, but I think I like the dizziness. No. I know I like it.

Our lips twist and tangle, but there are no tongues involved. I almost think it’s better this way—for this moment, at least. It’s not heat and scorching passion. There aren’t any erections needing release. The kiss is filled with pure, unfiltered love. Between a daddy and his boy.

Between a father and son.

When he breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine. “I love you, little man.”

Benji

“What do you think it is?”

I don’t know why I’m even asking. Bennet and Dad are staring at the same box I am. When we woke up, Bennet told me he called Tatum while I was sleeping. Tatum was complaining about a layover in Los Angeles, then said he overnighted a rather large package to us, but we’re not allowed to open it before he gets here. It’s been tempting me ever since the UPS man dropped it off at our doorstep, but Bennet’s been insistent. It’s a super big box, and honestly, I don’t know how Tatum or Kincaid could afford the shipping. It took all three of us to get it over the threshold and into the foyer. The box is shorter than I am, but it’s super wide and unnecessarily heavy.

“Do you think he got us an above-ground swimming pool?”

Dad and Bennet both turn and stare at me like I’m stupid.

“Why the hell would he get us an inflatable pool?” Bennet groans obnoxiously as if it’s the dumbest suggestion he’s ever heard, which I know for a fact isn’t true, because after I woke up this morning, he asked if I wanted him to rub his cock against mine until we came, and the answer to that question is always going to be yes, so clearly, he needs to remove that tone from his voice and the frustration from his face.

“If you ever talk to me like that again, I’m gonna make Dad spank you so hard your skin blisters,” I threaten. Bennet’s mouth falls open, and Dad shakes his head frantically.

“No, son. I don’t believe in corporal punishment.”

I shrug. “Sucks for Bennet, because he does.” I toss a wink at Bennet. “A lot.” Honestly, I’ve been looking for a way to broach the subject most of the morning, because I know it’s what Bennet loves, and he hasn’t had it in a real long time. “He likes to be spanked. It gets him off.”

“Jesus,” Bennet groans.

Dad has a determined look on his face. “Is that true, Bennet? Have you been hiding your kinks from me?” The seriousness on his face fades into a cheeky little grin, making Dad look like the world’s sexiest scamp. He cups Bennet’s cheek, and my insides feel fuzzy, because seeing them together is one of the very best parts of my day. I used to get so jealous of anyone else touching on Bennet, but I never feel that way with them. Maybe it’s down to the dynamic of our relationship—what with Dad being our dad and all—or maybe it’s down to the fact that I get to have Bennet now too. I know no one can ever take him from me now. “Is that what you need from me?”

“I’m okay.” Bennet’s trying to downplay his excitement by feigning disinterest, but his face is glowing brighter than the spotlights that used to showcase us when we would go-go dance at the bar. His cheeks burn red as he chews his bottom lip. Yeah, he couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. Benji’s just a liar, liar, cum-dump on fire.” Bennet turns to scowl at me, and that’s his fatal mistake, because while he’s looking at me, he doesn’t see the way Dad’s arm rears back. He doesn’t have a chance to brace for impact as Dad’s palm strikes his ass. He doesn’t spank him hard. It barely even makes a sound, but that doesn’t stop Bennet from acting a damn fool. He lets out a godawful cry as he jolts forward against Dad’s chest. “Daddy!” He wraps his arms around Dad in a desperate hug before sobbing into Dad’s neck.

“Now, do you want to be honest with me, buddy?”

Bennet’s breathing frantically, and when it takes him a little longer than it should to respond, a horrified look crosses Dad’s face, like he’s worried he just made the worst mistake of his life. It’s a hideous look that has no business anywhere near his beautiful face. Thankfully, it’s gone in an instant as soon as Bennet looks up at him, smiling dazedly.

“Again?”

Dad breathes a sigh of relief. “I think we can save that for after Tatum leaves.” He dips his head down for a kiss.

“What if I beg for it?”

Dad smirks, and I think I’m loving this new saucy, sassy side of him. I hope we get to see it more often. “Then you’ll be wasting your breath. Not happening, little guy.”

“What if I’m bad, though?” Bennet’s hand slides beneath Dad’s pajamas, fondling his cock. “I gotta be punished if I’m bad, don’t I?”

“If you’re bad, you can stand in the corner.”

Bennet bites his bottom lip and stubbornly shakes his head. The moment he says, “Nuh-uh,” I’m a goner, because I’ve missed seeing his bratty side so much. He can be so silly in nature sometimes, but he hasn’t had many chances to show it off these last few months. Our ex-boyfriend Austin used to call us “middles” because we weren’t childlike enough to be littles, but I don’t know. I don’t really care about all those labels, we just like doing what feels right, and for us, that means leaning into our bratty sides. “Gonna be such a bad boy. You’ll see.”

“You better not, son.”

Bennet strokes Dad’s shaft faster. “Gonna be the worst fucking boy in the world.”

“Language,” Dad says with a laugh. “Fine. You really want a whack to the backside that badly?”

Bennet’s beaming ear to ear, his expression shifting within seconds. “Yes, please.”

Dad nods. “Fine. But then you have to go get ready. And this isn’t foreplay. We don’t have time for sex, son. Kind of a stupid demand, considering you’ve got your hand around my penis, but that’s the stipulation. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“Good.” Dad nods, but adds, “And don’t scream like last time. It made me feel awful.”

Bennet lifts to fingers in the air. “Scout’s honor.” Though he still looks a bit uncomfortable, Dad rears back his arm and gives Bennet another quick slap to the ass. Bennet whimpers, his hand working Dad’s shaft faster. “Did that feel good?”

Dad closes his eyes, his mouth twitching as his body goes stiff. He must be close, because that’s the face he always makes before he comes. He gives Bennet’s ass another firm slap before mumbling, “I’m coming.” I rush over to them, because it looks like this orgasm is going to be a doozy, and I don’t want Dad to fall down and crack his skull on the hardwood floors. His entire body tenses, and his hand grips mine that’s resting on his abdomen. Unfortunately, I’m not all that strong, so when Dad leans against me for support, resting all his weight on me, I topple onto the floor. Dad falls on top of me, pulling Bennet along for the ride. “Benji?”

Dad’s voice is frantic as he tries to carefully shift Bennet off him so he can turn around and check on me. They both kneel above me, touching all over my face.

“Are you hurt?” Dad asks.

“Did you hit your head?” Bennet asks.

“We’re so sorry, Benji,” they say in unison, and it feels like our worlds are crashing and colliding. They turn and stare at each other, mouths gaping. “Did you just—” As if we’re starring in a really bad soap opera, they say, “Do it again.”

“As adorable as these trio powers are,” I say, clearing my throat. I thrust my hand up like a dainty little thing. “It would be swell if you could stop gawking at each other and help me up. Fucking rude, Bennet.” He knows I’m only teasing, because he just rolls his eyes and jerks me up from the floor. They swarm me like hyperactive honeybees, checking my face and the back of my head to make sure I didn’t injure myself in the topple. “Enough. Enough of this. Tatum will be here any minute.” I motion at Dad. “You just ejaculated, and he’s got your load all over your hand. You need to get cleaned?—”

“No, I don’t.” Bennet’s face is the picture of unbothered as I watch him lick the last of Dad’s cum from his fingers. “Clean as a whistle.”

“Are whistles clean?” I ask, not particularly giving a damn one way or the other. “And as for you”—I aim my finger at Dad —“I don’t want our future son-in-law to know one of us just ripped an orgasm out of you. Upstairs, and don’t come down until you’re clean.”

“Maybe I ought to spank you next,” Dad grumbles under his breath, sulking.

I shake my head. “That’s Bennet’s thing. He really likes it, but I never have. Maybe when I’m riding you or something, but I don’t like it outside the bedroom.”

“All right,” he agrees, his voice sure. “No spankings outside the bedroom. You have my word.”

“Thank you,” I say, then I lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose. “Now, I want you to go upstairs and clean up.”

His lip curls up in the corner. “Last time I checked, I’m the Daddy in this situation. Shouldn’t I be giving the orders?”

“You should, but you aren’t. You’re just standing there with a sticky lap. Go on. Get ready.” I reach down and squeeze his ass. “Pick out something that shows this thing off. If I can’t assault your body with my tongue in front of Tatum, the least you can do is give me something to ogle.”

Dad chuckles. “Your wish is my command.”

Once he’s upstairs, Bennet holds a finger in front of my face. “Saved you a little bit of his cum.”

My cheeks are warm as I lean in and collect the leftover load. I swallow Bennet’s finger down the knuckle. Wanting to tease him a little I work my tongue around the digit the way I enjoy using it on his penis. I suck and slurp until I feel his erection poking into my thigh. When I pull off him, our eyes lock, and the look he’s giving me makes my knees weak.

“I love you, Bennet.”

He blushes, but he doesn’t look away. “I love you too, Benj.” His lips brush against mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. He just stands there staring, our faces only inches apart. “I still can’t believe any of this is real.” His hand touches my chest, right above my heart. “We wasted so much time. We could have been like this all this time.”

I shake my head. “We’ve wasted nothing. If we did this sooner, we never would have found Dad. We wouldn’t—” Before I can finish, the front door opens, startling us.

“Dad?” Tatum’s voice calls out. Bennet and I both turn our gazes to the door. Tatum’s standing in the doorway with his gargantuan husband trailing behind, carrying their luggage.

It almost feels like the temperature drops in an instant. This once-warm home suddenly feels unbearably cold. Just as cold as Tatum’s expression. He’s staring at us like any love we shared before has been lost forever, and it hurts my heart, because I genuinely love our ex-boyfriend. When we were dating, we used to sleep right next to each other, with Bennet on the other side of me and Austin on the other side of Tatum.

I can tell Tatum wants to unleash holy hell on us, but he isn’t given the chance. Dad’s footsteps thud against the stairs as he makes his way down. My heart leaps in my chest, because he’s wearing his light gray slacks. They’re my absolute favorite, as they cling to every nook and crook of his body. Before we made things official, I used to stare at his ass in them every morning. I’d visually devour the sight of him until he caught me, then I’d make up a ridiculous excuse, like Bennet having stuck a non-existent “Kick Me” sign on his back that somehow vanished into thin air. Now, I don’t have to come up with excuses. Even better, he’s worn them for the sole purpose of giving Bennet and me an eyeful.

I don’t know how I expected Dad to react to seeing Tatum, but I didn’t expect there to be this much bitterness on his face. He looks like he’s staring at a criminal warlord who’s barged into his life just to destroy everything he holds dear.

“Son,” he says, his voice cold. He glances up at Kincaid and gives him a wave and a genuine smile. “Good to see you, Abdulov.”

“It is very good to see you, too, Dad.” His grin is wide as Texas herself, and he’s waving at Dad like a moron. “You’ll have to excuse the little one.” He pets Tatum’s head, earning himself a growl. “Pay no attention to his terrible manners.” He places a hand on Tatum’s cheek and tugs until they’re eye to eye. “What did we discuss, my love?”

Tatum rolls his eyes. “Fuck off and die, Russian trash.” Wishes of death aside, Tatum’s expression softens a bit before he finally gives Kincaid a quick kiss. After the kiss is done, Tatum closes his eyes and sighs. “Can we talk?”

I’m not sure which of us he’s speaking to, and I’m not given a chance to ask, as he whirls on his heel and marches into the living room, calling out, “And bring the goddessdamned box.”

Kincaid hoists the oversized box into his arms with ease. He must have super-human strength, because it took all three of us just to get it into the foyer. We follow behind him, watching as he sets the box on the floor, right next to Dad’s recliner that Tatum’s commandeered. Bennet and I make our way over to the sofa, leaving an empty space between us. I worry, at first, that Dad might sit on the love seat, but he doesn’t. He just plops between us and takes both our hands, his eyes daring Tatum to say a word out of turn. Tatum stares at us in disbelief, but he doesn’t look angry. Just confused. I can’t say I blame him—it isn’t as if we planned to fall in love with his father. It isn’t lost on me how this situation could be upsetting to him, but it’s not as if we’re doing this to hurt him. He’s happy; don’t we deserve to be happy, too?

We’re silent for a while, and there’s a wordless war being waged between father and son. It doesn’t seem like either plan to back down. Kincaid is still fiddling with the box, trying to remove the tape that kept it closed for the journey. Once he’s got the tape off, he rips the box apart at its corners. The sides fall, revealing a large wooden chest. It looks like the one Dad keeps at the foot of the bed that houses old quilts and blankets. Instead of opening the chest, Abi returns to the recliner, picks Tatum up, and carries him to the loveseat, bringing him closer to us.

“Absolutely not,” Tatum objects, slapping Kincaid’s shoulder. “Put me back where you found me, you overgrown sloth.”

Kincaid chuckles as he places Tatum on the floor. Without warning, he jerks Tatum’s jeans off, the suddenness of his action making Tatum squeak. Within seconds, Tatum’s bare ass is on full display, and Kincaid sucks his own finger, getting it nice and wet. I sigh, because I know what’s coming next.

The way Kincaid keeps a finger up his husband’s backside at all times as a means of comfort is kind of vile, but I’m not one to kink shame, unlike Tatum. Kincaid brings Tatum down onto his lap and mumbles, “Deep breath, sweetheart. Here it comes,” before slipping a finger inside.

“Daddy,” Tatum whines. “Not in front of them. I’m trying to put on my stern face.”

“There is no need for sternness. I’ve already told you—several times—we are here to make peace.” Kincaid smiles warmly at Dad. “We’ve come to make amends, and I am not leaving until everyone in this room has said what they need to say to fix this.” He arches an eyebrow at Dad, then at Bennet and myself, and finally, at Tatum. “I will not have this. Tatum has been beside himself, and I won’t allow this to eat away at him, or at any of you. You’re family.”

“Family doesn’t fuck their family members’ ex-boyfriends!” Tatum growls. “This is beyond sick. Tell me, Bennet—how long was I gone before you fell to your knees and forced yourself on my father?”

Bennet’s eyes bulge. “It wasn’t like that! Things just happened, and I?—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me. I know my father, and I know without a doubt he didn’t initiate this. He isn’t even gay, for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m demisexual,” Dad interrupts. “Son, I need you to hear me on this—I love Benjamin and Bennet. That’s not changing, and I’m not breaking up with them. You’re going to need to come to terms with it if you want to remain a part of my life.”

Tatum’s mouth falls open. “Excuse me? And what if I don’t? Are you going to disown me? Is that what this comes down to?” Tatum’s eyes are so narrow, it’s a wonder he can see at all. He turns his glare toward Bennet, and I’m not sure why he’s not giving me the evil eye, too. If anyone deserves his wrath, it’s me. I’m the one who spearheaded this. Not Dad. Not Bennet. “Are you happy, Bennet Anderson? You’re destroying my family. Do you not understand that? You know how important my family is to me. How could you? I thought we were friends.”

He sounds so broken and hurt, and Bennet looks just as wrecked emotionally. He’s shaking and everything. I’m not going to let Tatum scare him. I refuse.

“If you want to blame someone,” I say, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “Blame me. I’m the one who wanted this. I’m the one who begged Bennet to love Dad the same way I do. So, be mad at me and leave Bennet out of this.”

Tatum’s face is redder than I’ve ever seen it. “Did you just call him Dad? Are you serious right now?”

“I did,” I admit. “And I will again. Because that’s who he is to me. My Daddy.” I stop myself, because that’s not right at all. “My dad.”

Tatum points a finger at me, his jaw clenched, hands shaking. “Fucking shameless, that’s what you are. Well, shame, shame, shame, I know your fucking name, Benjamin Applebaum.”

“You might think it’s sick, but it’s who he is to me. My dad. My Daddy. He’s the man I love, Tatum, and you already have one of those, so it’s not fair for you to be so mean about it. He’s been lonely for so long, and you ain’t done anything to make him feel better. You abandoned him and refused to even respond to his texts. While you fucked off home to Washington, we’ve been here trying to fix his broken heart, so don’t you dare talk to me about what is or isn’t sick. There’s nothing sicker than breaking your father’s heart and not caring enough to put it back together. You should be on your knees, begging for?—”

Dad’s hand squeezes mine. “Son.” I look over at him, heartbroken to see a tear dripping down his cheek. “It’s okay.”

I shake my head, because I’m just getting started. “It’s not okay. What he’s doing to you isn’t okay, so you can be mad at me all you want—I don’t care. I’m not going to let him sit there and rain down judgment like he’s God and you’re a sinner needing redemption. You have done nothing wrong. We have done nothing wrong.” I turn and glare at Tatum. “I love him. We both do. And he loves us. That’s not changing. I’m sorry if it’s upsetting to you, but you don’t get to dictate your father’s love life. What exactly did you expect to happen here, today? Did you want him to break up with us? Do you want us to end up on the street? Because that’s what happens if you get your way. We ain’t got a home. We ain’t got a family besides each other. What do you want, Tatum? What’s your endgame?”

Tatum closes his eyes and sighs. “I don’t know. It’s depraved, Benji. It’s madness.”

“Your husband is finger-fucking you in front of your father right now. If you want to talk about depravity, we can start with that.”

His cheeks darken. “Point taken.”

“Tate?” Bennet whispers, his voice soft and more than a little broken. “Please don’t take him away. We love him. I promise, we aren’t going to hurt him.” He stands up and moves toward them, kneeling in front of Tatum and squeezing his hand. “Please?”

Tatum sighs. “If—and that’s a big ‘if’—I go along with this, I’m going to need to have time to process. You can’t make out with him in front of me or anything. And absolutely no fucking?—”

“Language,” Dad scolds. “Tatum, I want you to look at me.” He waits for Tatum’s eyes to lock on his before continuing. “Did I ever make out with your mother in front of you? Did we fornicate at the family dinner table?”

“Well, no?—”

“Did I ever do anything with her that made you uncomfortable?”

“No, but?—”

“No buts,” he interupts, shaking his head. “I am your father. I’m not going to bed them while you’re in the room.” A small smile cracks his face. It’s small enough the untrained eye might not even recognize it, but I’ve been studying Dad’s face for months. I know all his tells. “I think you’ve met the family’s quota for exhibitionism.” Dad stands up, but his hand is locked with mine, so he brings me along for the journey until we’re standing right in front of them. “These are the men I love, son. I need you to support this, the same way I’ve supported you. I don’t ask for anything, Tatum, but I’ve earned this.”

Tatum nods. “I’m sorry for being an asshole. It’s just a shock, you know?” He dabs at his cheek with his palm. “I really am sorry.”

“I know.” They stare at each other for a beat before Dad leans down and cups Tatum’s cheek. “I just want to be happy, son. We’re not doing any of this to hurt you. Can you please try to support us? Can you do that for me, buddy?”

“Okay. Yeah, Dad, okay. I’ll try. I’ll probably muck it up along the way, but I’ll do my best.”

Dad’s smile widens. “That’s all I’m asking.” He leans in and hugs Tatum, and Tatum melts into the embrace. They stay this way for a while, clinging desperately to each other, mumbling various apologies over and over. Once they pull apart, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

“Tate?” Bennet points at the chest. “What’s in the box?”

Tatum quirks a smile. “Very good question.” He motions for Dad and me to scoot over, and when we do, he hops up from Kincaid’s lap, gasping when his husband’s finger slips out of him. It’s still a little weird that he’s only wearing a magenta jockstrap and a t-shirt, but last time he was in town, that’s what he wore more often than not. He kneels in front of the box and unlocks the large padlock keeping it closed. His eyes meet Bennet’s, and he waggles his brows. “I brought some trash that I need to dispose of.”

When he flings the box open, I can’t see what’s inside, so I stand up and make my way over. The second I see the monster’s motionless body lying in a heap, my legs give way and the world goes black around me.