Chapter 29
Not Fourteen Anymore
Gavin
I'm supposed to be reviewing plays. I'm not. I'm sprawled on the couch, just enjoying the noise of the house. Seems like, for some reason or another, everyone has an off afternoon from classes.
The common room is full of guys, and I'm just... existing and hanging out, soaking up the noise. Drew’s on his laptop. Tyler and Ethan are bickering on the other couch, Ethan's fingers curled in the back of Tyler's shirt like he doesn't even realize he's doing it.
Ian is explaining the rules of a board game to a confused Jaren. Rex and Jeff are trash-talking. Taj is documenting everything, and Noah is digging under couches because he's lost something. The usual.
This is good.
The front door swings open.
I look up, expecting maybe a pizza delivery or maybe subs.
Subs would be great.
It's not.
My father stands in the doorway, Troy behind him, both wearing expressions I know too well. The tight jaw. The cold eyes. The barely-contained rage.
Fuck.
"Gavin." Dad's voice cuts through the room like a blade. The chatter dies instantly. "Get the fuck over here. We need to talk."
Every head swivels between me and the door. I can feel Drew straightening up, Tyler's arm tightening around Ethan.
"What are you doing here?"
"I pledged this house in '92." Dad's voice drips with contempt as he looks around.
"Your grandfather was an alumnus. Three generations of Robins men.
And now look at it." His eyes land on Tyler and Ethan, and something ugly twists his face.
"Clint told us what you've been up to. What this place has become. "
Troy snorts. "Fag house now, apparently."
"Hey—" Ian starts, accent sharpening.
"Don't." I hold up a hand, not looking away from my family. "What do you want?"
Dad steps further into the room. He's a big man, not as big as me, but he carries himself like he thinks he is. "What do I want? I want to know what the hell is wrong with you."
"Nothing's wrong with me."
"Clint says you've been parading around with some… some…" He can't even say it. His face twists. "Your mother would be spinning in her grave."
There it is. The card he always plays.
"I don't think she would," I say quietly.
"You don't get to tell me what your mother would think!" His voice rises. "She raised you right. We raised you right. And this is how you repay us? Running off to California to become a—"
"A what, Dad?" I stand up slowly. I've got four inches and probably sixty pounds on him now. "Say it."
Troy moves up beside our father, trying to look intimidating. It might work if I were still fourteen and scared. I'm not.
"A faggot," Troy says, loud enough for everyone to hear. "That's what you are now, right? That's what this place is? A house full of—"
"I'd stop right there if I were you." Tyler's voice is cold. He's on his feet now, Ethan behind him, fingers curled in the back of Tyler's shirt.
Troy's eyes land on them. Something ugly spreads across his face. "Oh, this must be them. The couple." He laughs, mean and sharp. "Dad's buddy mentioned you two. Said there were queers openly dating in the frat now. Disgusting."
"Get out." Drew's standing now, too, laptop forgotten. "You're not welcome here."
"I'm not talking to you." Dad doesn't even look at Drew. His focus is locked on me. "I'm talking to my son. Who apparently forgot everything we taught him."
"I didn't forget." My hands are shaking. I shove them in my pockets. "I just realized it was all bullshit."
Dad's face goes red. "Bullshit? Bullshit? Your grandfather built our family name. Your mother dedicated her life to raising you, boys, right. And you're throwing it all away for what? To take it up the ass from some—"
"You need to leave." My voice is harder now. "Right now."
"Or what?" Troy steps forward, chest puffed up. "You gonna make us, little brother? Finally gonna hit back?"
The front door opens again.
Sebastian walks in, backpack over one shoulder, clearly expecting a normal afternoon. He takes two steps, registers the scene, me squared off against my father and brother, the frat brothers forming a loose wall of support behind me, the tension thick enough to choke on, and stops dead.
"What's going on?"
"This doesn't concern you," Dad snaps without looking. "Family business."
Doc's eyes find mine. I see the question there. I give a tiny shake of my head. Don't.
But Doc's gaze has already moved to Troy, to the aggressive stance, to the way my brother's hands are curled into fists. I watch Doc's expression shift from confused to assessing to something cold and sharp.
"You must be the father." Doc's voice is pleasant. Dangerously pleasant. "I've heard so much about you."
Troy turns, looks Doc up and down, and laughs. "This him? This is your boyfriend?" He looks back at me with theatrical disbelief. "Seriously, Gavin? He's fucking tiny."
"Troy—" I start.
"What, did you pick the smallest twink you could find so you'd feel big?" Troy's still laughing. "That's pathetic, even for you."
Dad's fist connects with my jaw before I even see it coming.
My head snaps to the side. The room erupts, shouts, movement, someone yelling "HEY!" But I barely register it. I turn back to face him slowly, deliberately.
He's breathing hard, knuckles red, waiting for me to cower. To flinch. To be the scared little kid who used to hide in his room.
I don't move.
"That's the last time," my voice is quiet, steady, "you ever hit me."
Something flickers in his eyes. He's realizing, maybe for the first time, that I'm not fourteen anymore. That I've got inches and pounds on him. That I could break him if I wanted to.
I don't want to. I don't need to.
I'm not him.
Troy starts forward, fists raised. "You don't talk to Dad like—"
He doesn't finish the sentence.
Again, I didn't even see someone move. Doc dropped his backpack.
One second, Troy is moving towards me, the next he's face-down on the floor with Doc on his back, one arm wrenched up at an angle that makes me wince. Troy yelps, actually yelps, struggling uselessly against someone half his size.
"What the fuck! Get off me—"
"Shhh." Doc leans down, and his voice drops to something quiet and terrifying.
I can barely hear him, but Troy goes very, very still.
"I'm going to be a doctor. Do you know what that means?
It means I know exactly where every nerve cluster in your body is located.
I know which tendons, if torn, would leave you unable to grip anything ever again.
I know how to cause pain that doesn't leave marks. "
"You're fucking crazy—"
"I know how to make it look like an accident." Doc's voice is almost sweet.
Behind Doc, Rex, and Jeff have stunned looks on their faces as we all listen to my boyfriend.
"So here's what's going to happen. You're going to get up, walk out that door, and never come near Gavin again. Understood?"
Troy doesn't answer.
Doc does something with his hand, I can't see what, and Troy makes a sound like a wounded animal.
"Understood?”
"Yes! Fuck! Yes, okay, I understand!"
Doc releases him and stands in one fluid motion, stepping back and to my side as if nothing had happened. Troy scrambles to his feet, face red, cradling his arm.
"You're insane," he spits. "You're both fucking insane."
"Maybe." Doc's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Want to test it?"
Troy backs up fast.
My father has been watching this whole exchange in stunned silence. Now his attention snaps back to me, and whatever shock was there has curdled into pure rage.
"This is what you chose?" His voice shakes. "This life? These people? Your mother—"
"Don't." The word comes out low and dangerous. "Don't you dare."
"Your mother would be ashamed!”
He's in my space now, finger jabbing at my chest, face purple with fury. I don't step back. Don't flinch.
"You're right," I say quietly. "She would be ashamed."
Something like triumph flashes in his eyes.
"Because of you."
The triumph dies.
"She would be ashamed of you," I continue, and my voice is steady even though something inside me is cracking. "Of how you treated her. Of how you treated us. Of the scared little bully you've always been."
"How dare—"
"She used to cry, Dad. Did you know that? After you'd go off on one of your rages. She'd lock herself in the bathroom and cry, and I'd sit outside the door because I was too young to know what else to do."
His mouth opens. Closes.
"So don't you ever, ever, use her memory against me again." My voice breaks on the last word. I don't care. "You don't get to have her. Not anymore."
Silence.
My father stares at me like he's seeing a stranger. Maybe he is.
"We're done," I say. "I don't need you. I don't need your money. I have scholarships. I don't need your approval; I have people who actually give a shit about me. And I definitely don't need your bullshit ideas about who I'm supposed to be."
"Gavin—"
"Get out."
He doesn't move.
"Get out!”
The roar echoes through the house. My father flinches, actually flinches, and for one second, I see fear in his eyes.
Good.
"And Bill?" Drew's voice cuts through the silence, cold and presidential. "Don't bother coming to any more alumni events. I'm calling a vote to have you expelled from the fraternity for assaulting a member."
My father's face goes purple. "You can't, I've been a member for thirty years!"
"And you just punched a brother in his own house." Drew doesn't flinch. "Pretty sure that's grounds for expulsion. The board will be in touch."
Dad sputters, but Drew's already dismissed him, turning to check on me.
Doc tugs my sleeve, voice quiet. "What does that mean? Expelled from a fraternity?"
"Means he loses his legacy status. Can't come to events, can't network with brothers, can't put it on his resume anymore." I watch my father's face as the implications sink in. "For a guy like him? Who built half his business contacts through alumni connections? It's a death sentence."
Doc's eyes widen slightly. Then a small, vicious smile crosses his face. "Good."
Troy is already at the door, still cradling his arm. Dad looks at me one more time, jaw working like he wants to say something. His eyes dart to Drew, back to me, and I see it, the moment he realizes he's lost more than just a son today.
Then he turns and follows his older son out.
The door slams behind them.
Nobody moves.
My legs feel like they might give out. I'm shaking, whole body tremors I can't control. Years of being scared and keeping quiet and faking it, and it's done. It's finally done.
"Gavin." Doc's voice, soft now. His hand on my arm. "Hey. Breathe."
I look down at him. This tiny, fierce, terrifying person who just took down my brother without hesitation. Who threatened to permanently damage him with medical precision. Who's looking at me now with so much concern. It makes my chest hurt.
"Didn't know doctors could do that," I manage.
His lips twitch. "They can't. But I'm not a doctor yet." His hand slides down to grip mine. "And no one hurts my man."
My man.
My chest goes tight, but not in a bad way. More like... full.
"You good?" Drew's voice. I look up to find the whole room still frozen, watching us.
"Yeah." I'm not sure if it's true. "Yeah, I think so."
"For what it's worth," Ian says slowly, "that was the most badass thing I've ever seen. Both of you."
"Doc went full supervillain," Jaren adds, slightly awed. "That was terrifying."
"I learned pressure points from a YouTube video," Doc says mildly. "He'll be fine in an hour."
Tyler snorts. Ethan is staring at Doc with new respect.
I pull Doc into my arms, burying my face in his hair. He fits perfectly, even if I have to hunch down to do it. My anchor. My person.
"Thank you," I murmur.
"Anytime."