Mine

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

JT

I ’ve been nervous all week, worried about how today will go. Marshall and I are getting ready to meet my parents—to tell them about us. I know he’s who I want, and I’m used to standing my ground when it comes to my mom and dad, no matter how difficult it is, but this is different. It doesn’t only affect me, and though Marshall doesn’t talk about it much and puts on a brave face, I can see the worry in him, the fear and sadness. I don’t know everything about his childhood, but Dad told me Marshall’s father left when he was young, and his mom rarely put him first. She wasn’t abusive so much as neglectful, and she spent Marshall’s childhood unsure how to run her own life, much less be a good mom to him.

And the one thing he always had was my dad and my grandparents. Grandma bought him things he needed sometimes, and their house was always open to him. When Grandpa passed away, Marshall helped Dad through it better than Mom or I could. Marshall shared everything with my father, and now my dad is going to hate him, and I can’t help feeling responsible.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Sir before we leave his house. Marshall had wanted to talk to them without me, just him and Dad, but I won’t let him. This involves me just as much as it does Sir, and I refuse to take the easy way out. If he’s going to risk his relationship with my parents, the least I can do is be by his side, try to help them understand and show them how good we are together.

Because we are good.

We’re everything.

“Want to? Not especially, but I don’t see that we have a choice. What kind of man am I if I continue to keep this from someone I love? What kind of friend? Brother? Person? I owe it to John to tell him, and all I can do is hope that somehow, eventually, he’ll understand.”

I can’t help but walk over to him and kneel, right there in the middle of his entryway. “You’re such an honorable man. You make me proud to be your boy. I…I wouldn’t risk this for anyone else.” I say that knowing Marshall risks even more. My dad is going to be pissed at me, there’s no denying that. Mom will be sad and confused. But I know my parents. They would never walk away from me, never turn their backs on me. I can only hope it will be the same for Marshall.

His hand moves to my head and tangles through the strands. Leaning in, I rub my cheek against his thigh, not caring that it’s something a dog would do for attention. I want to show him how much affection and respect I have for him, and this is one of the ways I like to show it.

“Thank you. I’m proud to be your Sir too.”

I nod, and he pulls me to my feet, then takes my mouth in a slow, claiming kiss. There’s hunger in it, yes, but it’s also filled with fear and uncertainty. Marshall is always so confident that it’s hard to taste the worry on his tongue.

“Come. We don’t want to be late.”

He takes my hand, the two of us going to his car. Marshall told my dad he needed to talk to him and Mom. I’m sure they’re going to be confused when we show up together.

We’re quiet as we drive over, the air in the vehicle thick and heavy. I can’t stop my finger from tapping against my thigh, and eventually, Marshall reaches over and places his hand on top of mine. “It’ll be okay,” he says, though it’s clear from his voice that he doesn’t believe it.

“I know.” As much as we’ve discussed honesty, I’m pretty sure we’re both lying right now.

The ride takes much less time than it should. Did all the cars just leave the road to make this happen even quicker?

Marshall kills the engine when we pull into the driveway, then looks over at me. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.”

“These are your parents.”

“They’re your family too,” I counter.

Marshall pauses, then nods and says, “They are.” And then without another word, he gets out of the vehicle.

My stomach twists, my heart beating too fast as I join Marshall at the front of the car, and then we walk to the door together.

“It’ll be okay,” he says again, quietly, when we reach the door. “Are you sure you want this? If not, we walk away right now.”

“I want it. I want you.”

His pupils widen as he takes me in, a hungry stare I feel like a caress against my skin. I feel his need for me, his desire, like it pulses through the air. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and it gives me the courage to motion to the door.

Marshall gives me a barely perceptible nod, then knocks on the door. A few moments later, Mom pulls it open, smiling widely at Marshall, before her gaze snags on me. Her brows pull together.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” The concern in her voice is palpable.

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom.” I step forward and pull her into a hug, breathing in the scent of vanilla lotion she always wears. Please accept this… Accept us.

She nods, but I can see the confusion as she looks back and forth between Marshall and me. She steps back to let us in just as Dad comes down the stairs.

“Hey, Marsh. Oh—this is a surprise. Did you two run into each other outside?” he asks, not even considering that Marshall and I could have come together, and why would he? Yes, he’s like family to us, but we’ve never hung out just the two of us. We never would have shown up at my parents’ house together if there wasn’t a specific reason they knew about.

“Let’s go into the living room,” Mom says before Marshall can reply. She knows, I realize. That quickly, she knows. It must be a mom thing, and even if she doesn’t know the details, she understands that something big is about to happen, and she’s trying to manage how and where it all goes down.

Dad doesn’t seem to have a clue, and he wraps his arm around Marshall, giving him a hug. My Sir winces, and I want to fix this for him. I want to find a way that makes it all okay. I don’t want him to lose more in his life than he already has, and certainly not because of me.

Marshall clears his throat and pulls back. I can read him so well now. He feels that hugging Dad, letting the two of them be close in this moment, is a betrayal because in just a few minutes, Dad isn’t going to want to be close to him.

“What are you doing here?” Dad asks me. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you don’t show up out of the blue very often.”

We enter the living room. “He came with me, John,” Marshall says, and I swallow down the bile burning at the back of my throat.

Dad’s gaze immediately shoots to me. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Dad. I’m good. Actually, I’m better than I’ve ever been.”

Mom sits on the couch, watching us. Dad looks back and forth between Marshall and me, trying to piece together what’s happening, but he can’t—it’s not something he would ever consider.

“John, Callie…I don’t know exactly how to tell you this. Whatever I say is going to come out wrong. You are…” Marshall shakes his head, pain bleeding out of him. It takes everything in me not to wrap my arms around him, not to hold him or kneel for him, not to throw myself in front of this train wreck and protect him from any debris, but I can’t. “You’re a brother to me, John, and there’s no easy way to say this, but…JT and I, we’re together.”

Mom gasps, but my attention is fully on Dad. “What do you mean you’re together?” He watches Marshall, the truth in front of his eyes, but he’s unwilling to see it.

“You know what I mean, John.”

“We didn’t know, at first,” I add, somehow knowing that Marshall won’t. He’s going to try and protect me, not give too much information about me being online and meeting guys. “We started talking online, and we didn’t know who the other person was. We didn’t share names or photos. We just clicked. I’ve never felt such an instant connection to someone. By the time we met up and realized, I was already in deep.”

Mom stands and walks over to Dad, who’s working through it all in his head. His jaw tightens, face red, as Mom puts an arm around him, clearly trying to calm him down.

“You met up with my son to have sex with him.” Dad’s voice is hard, a tremor in it that says he’s trying to keep it steady.

“We didn’t know!” I say in unison with Marshall’s, “Yes.”

“We didn’t do anything that day. Both of us were freaked out,” I add.

“But you are now!” Dad shouts. He’s been angry before—he’s human, so how could he not have been—but I have never, in all my twenty-two years, heard my dad yell this way. It’s just not in his nature. It makes my insides begin to shatter, any hope I’d felt starting to disappear.

“I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I know that. I…” Marshall runs a hand through his hair. It’s shaking. Marshall is the definition of poised, and in this moment, he’s anything but. “I know I betrayed you, and I’m sorry, but he’s important to me. Jay…he means a lot to me.”

I step closer to Marshall, looking my parents square in the face. “He means a lot to me too.”

“Who the fuck is Jay? You don’t even call him by his name now?” Dad shakes his head, still angry, but like he’s trying to put everything together. “You told me you can’t be in a relationship without… those things . Doing them to people.” The disapproval in Dad’s voice is too strong to be missed. Just like I knew he would, he thinks it’s wrong. He thinks there’s something wrong with people who do it.

Marshall clears his throat. “No…I can’t.” The sadness in his voice breaks me down further.

“You got my son into that shit!” Dad bellows.

“Marshall…” Mom says. “I don’t understand. This is JT. How could you do this with our son? How long has this been happening?”

“A couple of months,” I reply. “And he didn’t get me into it. I was into it before him. That’s how we met. It’s a site for that kind of thing.” I don’t typically fold in on myself when it comes to my differences with my parents. I am who I am, and inside, I know there’s nothing wrong with that, but this situation is different. I feel shame trying to creep in—shame in disappointing them, in not being who they need me to me, in wanting these things that feel like such an ingrained part of who I am.

“It stops now,” Dad spits out. “You’re not abusing my son.”

“It’s not abuse, John. Just because you don’t understand it or agree with it doesn’t mean it’s wrong. He’s a consenting adult—”

“And you’re like an uncle to him!” Dad growls.

Mom cries.

Marshall is fighting back emotion. His eyes look pained, his body tense, but he keeps himself calm when he says, “No. That’s not something I’ve ever called myself, and JT has never called me that either. You’re my brother, my best friend, and I love you, but I won’t let you turn this into something ugly. I’ve never felt this way before. Do you know what it does to me that the only person I’ve ever cared about this much is the one who will make me lose you? It’s killing me, John.” Marshall’s voice cracks.

“Then stop doing it. What do you do to my son? Do you hit him? Hurt him? Call him names? I’m not the one making this ugly. How can you ever expect me to be okay with you treating my son that way?”

“It’s not your business what we do, but whatever it is, it’s because both of us want it.”

Dad’s arm swings, his fist flying through the air, and connecting with a loud crack against Marshall’s face. His head snaps back, but he doesn’t fall, hardly stumbles, and he doesn’t make a move to hit back. It’s almost like the punch happened in slow motion, but too fast for me to comprehend. I don’t know how both things can be true at once, but they are.

“You hit him, and I hit you,” Dad seethes.

“What the fuck, Dad!” I shout, going to Marshall and touching his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He pulls out of my hold. “Do you feel better now?” Marshall asks.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Dad tells him, then looks at me. “Don’t do this, JT. We’ll figure it out. He never should have done this to you.”

Tears run down my face. Mom is still crying too. Everything feels so big—so overwhelming—that I just want to close my eyes and pretend none of it is happening…but I can’t. Dad just hit Marshall, and that’s not something I can ignore. “I love him,” I admit. “He makes me feel strong…confident. Like it’s okay to be who I am. You have no right to hit him in anger, and I’ll never forgive you for it.”

“I can’t.” Dad shakes his head. “I can’t accept this. I’ll never turn my back on you, but I can’t get past this with him.” Dad’s voice is softer now, laced with a pain of his own—of losing his best friend, even if it is his choice.

“Mom?”

“He’s our family. He’s known you your whole life. You can’t expect us to be okay with this.”

“You know where to find us if you change your mind,” I say, then take Marshall’s hand. He doesn’t stop me, but he gives one more heartbreaking, pleading look at Dad, who turns away from him.

With a sigh, Marshall heads for the door, squeezing my hand tight, like he’s afraid if he lets go, I’ll disappear.

But I won’t. He’s my Sir, and for the first time, I realize that as much as I need him, he needs me too.