Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Johnny
Johnny left the Trident offices confident they’d hired the right guy to replace him.
Paul Ballard was experienced, confident, and he understood the security business.
He’d worked for a similar company as security through his college years and afterward had moved to the office staff.
He was ready to take on more responsibility but couldn’t move up in his current company.
Uncle Gary liked him and knew a lot about the company he came from.
He got along well with Pilot too. The best part for Johnny? He didn’t need a lot of training.
That deal was done.
He drove through the streets of Denver, shifting gears in his car and in his brain.
Gavin had been gone for two days, and the races were still two days away.
He’d go nuts waiting so long. He’d signed the contract to work with BikeMax but still didn’t know when he would actually begin working with them.
He would go crazy waiting two more days!
On the way home, he stopped at his favorite ice-cream place for a milkshake. Cool and creamy, it hit his sweet spot. He would probably have to stay on that treadmill an extra half hour to work it off. Worth it!
He pulled up in front of his house, ready to get on with the rest of his day.
When Gavin had invited him to his house in LA, Johnny had rejected the idea more than once.
He didn’t think he was ready for that step.
What if he liked it there and didn’t want to come back to Colorado?
What if he hated it there, and it killed their relationship?
He was utterly ridiculous. He wanted to see where Gavin lived.
He hoped Gavin would ask him one more time after the upcoming races on Saturday.
He could spend the next week at Gavin’s place and maybe get into the BikeMax office to work.
For once, Johnny looked forward to good things in his life.
He walked up the pathway to his house and froze.
The door flailed open, and it looked like the lock had been busted.
Someone had split the wood around the door frame, prying it apart.
His heart hammered, but he willed his brain to think logically.
He pulled his phone out and tapped for the number pad to dial 9-1-1.
He took a step back but not fast enough. The door shoved open, and an arm and a hand reached out, grabbing him, pulling his shirt, yanking him inside the house. Johnny screamed and pulled away, but the strong hands held him captive.
He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them. His father’s face hovered inches from his nose. Johnny gasped. “What are you doing here? Get out of my house.”
“You little punk. Ungrateful brat. Should-ah broken your neck years ‘go.” His words slurred out.
Johnny smelled the alcohol on him. “You’re drunk.”
“Wha’s it to ya, faggot?” He shook Johnny.
“Let me go. That hurts.” He could hear the operator on the line, trying to ask about the situation. He hoped she could hear the commotion and send a squad car.
His dad shook him again and muttered something under his breath.
Johnny only caught a few of the words, but they sounded mean and aggressive.
He had to get out of there. He put all his weight on one foot, leaning back.
His dad lunged to get a better grip on him or something.
Johnny took advantage of his move and shoved. Then ducked. He dropped his phone.
“I’m gonna kill you. You fuckin’ faggot. Broke up my marriage. Whothefuck she think she is?”
He was talking about Johnny’s mother and raging against the world but taking it all out on Johnny.
George made another move to grab Johnny, but he dashed around the couch.
He ducked and scooped up his phone, circling around the furniture.
His father tripped, stumbling across the floor, and Johnny bolted for the front door.
He ran across the yard and across the street in a panic. He kept running. His heart pounded in his ears. Thank God for all that time on the treadmill. Three houses away, he stopped to catch his breath. He looked around the corner of the house he hid behind but didn’t see his dad following him.
He could hear a siren in the distance and hoped like hell it was coming his way.
He called Pilot. He would still be at Trident offices. Twenty minutes away.
“Johnny! Hey, what’s up, man?”
Panting heavily, he answered, “M-My dad’s here. He’s at my house.”
“On my way. Don’t fucking move. Where are you?”
“Couple houses down. Called the cops, but—”
“On my way.”
The line went dead. Pilot would probably break the speed limit getting there.
The sirens grew louder—on his street. He peeked out again and saw the patrol car stop in front of his house.
His stupid father was so drunk he’d probably end up getting shot.
As much as the man deserved it, Johnny couldn’t let that happen.
He wanted the man gone. Out of his life for good was a yes, but not dead.
He made his way back up the street and called out, “Officer!”
The police officer stopped and faced Johnny. “Are you the one that called this in?”
“Yes, sir. My father broke into my house. He’s in there.” Johnny pointed to his little house. “He’s drunk. Angry.”
“I understand. Did he hurt you?”
“No. Shook me around.” Johnny shrugged. The man had done so much worse to him over the years. “I’m okay, just scared, and I want him gone. That’s all.”
The cop spoke into the mic pinned to his shoulder, then turned back to Johnny. “Wait here, please.”
Johnny nodded and stood behind the cop’s car, keeping it between him and the house. A second car pulled up, and two officers made their way into the house. Johnny stayed put. Anything could be going on inside.
Pilot parked on the curb next to the neighbors’ house and walked over. He put his arm around Johnny’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Physically, yes. Mentally...I don’t fuckin’ know.”
Pilot hugged him. “It’ll be okay.”
The cops finally came out of the house with a half-conscious George between them. They practically dragged him out and put him in the back of one of the cars. They gave Johnny a card with a case number on it and advised him to get someone to fix the front door as soon as possible.
Pilot had already called the guy they worked with to come out and take care of the damage and secure the house.
He escorted Johnny back in to grab a bag of clothes.
He couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t look at the front hall and the living room without seeing his fucked-up father and his fucked-up life.
Twenty minutes later, he was at Pilot’s house. He hid in the hallway bathroom and called Gavin. He needed Gavin, and he was over a thousand miles away.
“Johnny, hey.” It was evening in Colorado, but still only five in LA. Gavin was probably in the office.
“I-I need you.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Johnny told him what had happened. About his father and that he had gone over to Pilot’s house.
“Motherfucker.” Gavin was pissed, but Johnny didn’t know if he was mad about what had happened, mad at Johnny’s dad, mad at Pilot, or mad at Johnny. He cursed some more, making Johnny want to hang up.
“I’m sorry,” Johnny whispered.
“I don’t like you being there. I want you fuckin’ safe, Johnny.”
“I’m safe at Pilot’s.”
“That’s not what I fuckin’ mean. Goddamn it.”
Tears stung his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, but he didn’t like Gavin yelling at him. They’d never had a fight like this, and he didn’t even know what they were fighting about. “I’m doing what I can. You’re not here, Gavin.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Gavin, I...”
“Let’s not do this. I’ll call you later, okay?” He was still mad. Johnny could tell by his tone, but at least he tried not to escalate the fight.
“I love you, Gavin.”
“Love you too.” He muttered the words quickly and hung up as if they didn’t mean much. As if he only meant good-bye and nothing more. Johnny needed more.
The threatening tears escaped the corners of his eyes.
He wanted to be home. He wanted to be with Gavin.
He rubbed his face with fingers digging into his eyes beneath his glasses.
He couldn’t sit there all night feeling sorry for himself.
He turned the water on and washed his face, then made his way back to the living room.
A couple of nights on Pilot’s couch wouldn’t kill him.
He’d done it before, though it’d been a while.
This time he was pining for someone other than Pilot as he settled under the spare blanket.