Chapter 16
JESSE
Iwoke to chaos in the living room.
Voices, urgent and overlapping. The television volume cranked up. Phoenix shouting something about the news. My body moved before my brain caught up, stumbling out of Adrian's room in yesterday's clothes, heart already hammering.
The entire group clustered around the TV. Diana had her hand over her mouth. Sam was pacing behind the couch. Elijah stood frozen, coffee mug halfway to his lips.
"What's happening?" I asked, but nobody answered.
Then I saw the screen. Breaking news banner. My parents' faces behind a podium bristling with microphones.
"Kansas Church Defies Court Order, Transports Adult Son to Montana Conversion Therapy Facility."
My heart stopped. Did they somehow take me in my sleep? Was I dreaming? I looked down at my hands, touched the wall behind me. Real. I was here, in the house, safe.
Then whose son?
The news anchor continued: "Anthony Whelan, nineteen, from Topeka Covenant Church, was transported yesterday evening to the Restoration Ridge facility in rural Montana..."
Anthony Whelan's photo flashed on screen.
Sweet-faced kid with freckles and scared eyes.
Two years younger than me. I knew him from church, from youth group before I left for college.
Quiet boy who'd confided in me once during a church retreat, voice shaking as he admitted he thought about boys the way he was supposed to think about girls.
I'd told him to hide it better. Pray harder. Keep his head down.
Now his parents stood beside mine at the podium, a united front against judicial tyranny.
My father's voice filled the room: "We will not be intimidated by activist judges. Our children's souls are more important than man's law. We call on all God-fearing families to stand firm against this assault on religious freedom."
"They took someone else," I whispered, stomach dropping into free fall.
Adrian appeared beside me, still half-asleep but alert. "They're making an example. Showing they won't back down."
The room spun slightly. Anthony Whelan. Nineteen years old. Probably never kissed anyone, probably spent his nights crying into his pillow and begging God to fix him. Just like I had until Adrian had awoken something within me.
And now he was on his way to Restoration Ridge because of me.
Because I'd kissed Adrian on that stage. Because I'd run instead of submitting. Because they needed to prove a point.
"Jesse?" Diana's voice seemed to come from underwater. "Jesse, you're hyperventilating."
The walls closed in. Vision tunnelling. This was my fault. If I hadn't kissed Adrian, if I hadn't been a coward, if I'd just gone home and submitted like a good son...
Anthony Whelan would be safe in his dorm room right now instead of strapped to a gurney in some facility van driving through the night toward Montana.
Phoenix pulled up more coverage on their laptop. "Public outcry's huge, but there are legal complications. Anthony is over eighteen. His parents have the right to seek treatment for him."
"The court order only applies to Jesse specifically," Elijah added grimly. "Can't stop them from taking another congregation member's son."
"This isn't your fault," Adrian said, gripping my shoulders.
"It's completely my fault."
"They made this choice," Elijah insisted. "You didn't force them."
"I started this." My voice sounded hollow, distant. "I have to stop it."
I walked away before anyone could argue. Up the stairs to Adrian's room—our room? I wasn't sure anymore. Two weeks of freedom, of not hiding, of Adrian's smile and acceptance and hope.
Was it worth it if Anthony Whelan paid the price?
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. Same face, but different. The rigid tension had left my shoulders. The constant fear had faded from my eyes. I looked like someone who'd been allowed to breathe for the first time in twenty-one years.
But breathing was a luxury I couldn't afford if it cost someone else their sanity.
My hands shook as I reached for my phone. One number I'd never deleted, despite everything. My father's cell. Hands trembling as I typed: "I'll trade."
I stared at the message for a long moment. Once I sent this, there was no going back. No more Adrian. No more found family. No more hope.
I hit send before I could change my mind.
The response came immediately: "What?"
"Let Anthony go. Take me instead. I'll come willingly."
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Finally: "You'll submit to full treatment? No more running?"
I closed my eyes. Saw Anthony Whelan's terrified face on the news. Nineteen years old and probably screaming in the back of a van right now, just like I had been four years ago.
"Yes."
"One year minimum. Complete program. No contact with outside influences."
My throat closed. A year. Twelve months of electroshock and ice baths and torture. Twelve months of having every thought monitored, every feeling punished.
"Fine. But Anthony goes home today."
"Send me your location. We'll come get you."
"No. I'll come to you. I'll fly to Montana myself. But I want proof Anthony is released first."
Long pause. Then: "Agreed. You have my word before God."
His word before God. Like that meant something coming from a man who tortured children for loving the wrong people.
But it was the only leverage I had.
I found Adrian in the living room, explaining the situation to Professor Okonkwo, who'd arrived while I was upstairs.
"I'm going to Montana."
Silence like a bomb had just detonated.
Adrian's head whipped toward me. "What? No. Absolutely not."
"My father agreed to release Anthony if I go instead." My voice sounded calm, too calm. Like it belonged to someone else.
"Jesse, you can't—" Diana started.
"I already did. I made the deal."
Adrian crossed the room in three strides, gripping my shoulders. "You'll die there. A year at that place—"
"I survived before. I'll survive again."
"Barely! And you came back broken!"
"Then I'll come back broken again, and you'll have to put me back together. But at least Anthony won't."
Sam stopped pacing. "There has to be another way."
"There isn't." I pulled free from Adrian's grip. "The court order only covers me, not other children of church leadership. They can take the other children whenever they want. The only way to stop this is for me to give them what they want."
Professor Okonkwo set down his coffee cup. "Jesse, I understand the impulse, but this is martyrdom."
"It's my responsibility. I started this. I finish it."
Adrian pulled me aside, voice breaking as he pleaded. "Please don't do this. Please."
"I have to."
"Then I'll come with you. I'll wait in Montana, visit you—"
"No contact with outside. That was the deal." I touched his face gently, memorizing the feel of his skin. "Adrian, I have to do this. That kid is there because of me."
"What about us? What about everything we—"
"Keep fighting. Legally, publicly, whatever you can do.
While I'm in there, work on getting Anthony away from his parents permanently.
Save him so they can't put him back in." My thumb traced his cheekbone.
"But I can't live knowing someone else is suffering because I was too cowardly to face the consequences of my choices. "
"Going back there isn't courage. It's suicide."
"Maybe it is. But at least it's my choice this time."
We stood in silence, foreheads pressed together. I tried to memorize this moment—might be the last time I felt safe, loved, wanted.
"I love you," Adrian whispered. "Did I mention that?"
"Once. In a text."
"I love you. I'm in love with you. I'll wait forever if I have to."
I kissed him softly, tasting salt from tears I didn't realize I was crying. "I love you too. Don't wait forever. Just... remember me."
I packed what little I had. Rebecca appeared in the doorway as I folded the few clothes that were actually mine.
"I heard. You're really doing this?"
"Have to."
"Always the martyr. Even when we were kids, you always ate my broccoli because you knew I hated it." She sat on the bed. "I'm coming with you. To Montana. I'll stay nearby, make sure they don't—"
"Rebecca, you already lost your family for me."
"Then I'm not losing you too. I'm coming."
I wanted to argue, but I was too tired. And maybe having someone nearby who cared would help. Maybe.
The group insisted on driving me to the airport. Adrian refused to say goodbye.
"I'm not saying it," he announced as we stood at security. "This isn't goodbye."
"Adrian—"
"No. We're going to fight this. I'm going to get you out. This is temporary. That's all. Just temporary."
I didn't have the heart to argue. Let him have hope. Someone should.
But as I moved toward the security line, Adrian caught my wrist.
"Wait." His voice cracked. "I can't—I need—"
He pulled me aside, behind a pillar where the others couldn't see. His hands framed my face, thumbs brushing away tears I didn't realize were falling.
"I love you," he whispered fiercely. "Do you hear me? I love you, and I'm going to move heaven and earth to get you back."
"Adrian, I—"
"Promise me you'll remember this. Promise me you'll remember how much I love you, no matter what they do to you in there."
My chest felt like it was caving in. "I promise."
He kissed me then, desperate and heartbreaking and full of everything we couldn't say. I kissed him back like it was the last breath I'd ever take, memorizing the taste of him, the way his hands shook against my skin, the soft sound he made when I deepened the kiss.
When we finally broke apart, both of us were crying.
"Come back to me," he breathed against my forehead. "Whatever it takes, come back to me."
"I'll try."
"Don't try. Do it. That's an order."
Despite everything, I almost smiled. "Yes, sir."
He kissed me once more, quick and fierce, then stepped back before his resolve could crumble completely.
"Go. Before I do something stupid like follow you onto that plane."