Chapter 18 #3
Tanner snorted then knocked back the rest of his drink.
“I’m going to need another marguerita to put up with your pedantic bullshit all night,” he informed Lance with a mock frown.
“Oh, pedantic! That’s a big word, jarhead. Careful now, don’t hurt yourself!” Lance replied with a laugh, earning him a smack on the back of the head.
“You’re such a jerk. I was in the Army. Jarheads are Marines.”
“Oh, and who’s the pedantic douchebag again?” Lance taunted Tanner, facing him as he walked backwards towards the bar. Tanner gave him a toothy smile, discreetly flipping him off by using his middle finger to scratch his nose.
The party was a hit. They’d chowed down on most of the potluck dishes, hit up Parker for another marguerita or three, and won a few rounds of cornhole. By 10:00, they were both stuffed and moaning from their last helpings of ribs and cake. Sprawled out in a lawn chair, Tanner complained about the additional weight from all that food and how he couldn’t stand or walk if his life depended on it. As the temperature dropped, people gravitated towards the firepit to listen to one of the neighborhood kids, Timmy, play his acoustic guitar. His rendering of “Sweet Caroline” needed some work, but the crowd enjoyed the songfest as he played several other Neil Diamond favorites. It made a nice backdrop as Lance and Tanner chatted desultorily about which one of them was the best cornhole player and whether they’d ever be able to move again after eating all that food. His mother was somewhere in the house, entertaining her friends with a game of bridge, while Jeff helped Parker behind the bar. The party had begun to wind down and clean up was underway, but no one seemed in any rush to leave.
“I should go in the house and look for Jeremy before we leave. Make sure he hasn’t suffocated, buried under a mountain of cheese puffs and popcorn,” Lance said, chuckling at the image. Jeremy was a truly dedicated gamer, from the headset that appeared to be permanently attached, to the 24/7 obsession with junk food.
“Mind if I stay here? Leg’s being a bit—” Tanner didn’t say anything further as Lance winced in sympathy.
“No problem, I understand,” Lance replied, as he prepared to get out of his chair. Glancing over at Tanner, he caught his breath as the flames of the firepit cast hues of orange and yellow across his face, making his hazel eyes glow in the amber light. His long legs were extended in front of him, and his arms were crossed behind his head making his biceps bulge. He looked so goddamned sexy, and he was all his.
Lance had an overwhelming urge to kiss Tanner. That was a no go, of course. Not here, not now, since they had yet to do the big gay reveal. Sighing in disappointment, he rose to his feet.
Tanner reached for him, his hand closing around his wrist to halt his progress.
“When we get home, I’m not taking my hands off you until we’ve both come at least a dozen times,” he whispered huskily. Lance felt his dick twitch at the intensity of the sexual hunger in Tanner’s eyes and voice.
“I’m counting down the minutes,” he promised with a smug smile before sauntering off to look for Jeremy.
Jeremy’s room was on the second floor, right past the bathroom, and on the opposite end of the hallway from the master bedroom. When he knocked on the door, he got a grunted response, reminding him of Parker when he was a teenager. He slipped through the door and shut it behind him.
His brother was stretched out on his bed wearing headphones and reading a book, which was certainly an improvement on gaming!
“Hey, stranger!” Lance teased him, dodging piles of clothes and shoes to reach Jeremy’s bed. “Nice buzzcut, dude!” For some reason, Jeremy had decided to shave his hair off for the summer. It was definitely a— look.
“Thanks,” Jeremy replied sheepishly, rubbing the top of his head self-consciously. “I didn’t know you were coming to this thing—”
“How could you? You’ve been hiding in here all night, Mr. Hermit.”
“I went down to get some food but didn’t feel like hanging around.” He shrugged. Lance didn’t push it.
“So, what’s new with you? Besides the buzzcut you’re sporting these days?” Although their conversation felt somewhat stilted, Lance told himself not to worry. They’d never really connected like brothers usually did. After their dad went to prison, Lance became more a father figure than an older brother. So, they’d never been as close as Lance would have wished, not like he was with Parker. But at least they got along, even though they weren’t tight.
“Nothing much. Jeff’s been trying to get me to go fishing.” Parker rolled his eyes like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“You ever been?”
“No.”
“So maybe you’d like it.”
“Did Dad ever take you?”
“No.”
“He didn’t fish? Like at all?”
“He drank like one, but that was about it,” Lance replied. Jeremy frowned and then laid back on the bed with a discouraged sigh.
Lance didn’t know what to do with a moody teenager. He was well aware that Jeremy and Parker still had lots of questions about their father, but Lance and their mother avoided them by quickly changing the subject. The two boys knew the basic facts, of course. They knew he was an alcoholic, and their mom had divorced him, but nothing about his abusive tendencies and escalating violence. Why burden them with all that now?
“Jeff’s a good guy, you know.” Lance studied Jeremy’s expression, trying to figure out how to get him to open up.
“Yeah, I guess. But we have nothing in common.”
“Maybe you should try and include him in things you like to do, or places you want to go,” Lance suggested. Jeremy looked at him as if he’d lost his damned mind. Lance just shrugged. “Dude! It’s just an idea! What have you got to lose? He’s a nice guy. He deserves some time with you, yes?”
“Maybe—” Again with the big, dramatic sigh. It wasn’t much of a concession, but Lance took it as a win.
There was a knock on the door, and they turned to see their mother walk in. She looked very surprised to see them sitting there chatting.
“Oh,” she said, smiling and giggling from having had one too many martinis. “My beautiful boys! I’m so happy to see you together!”
Lance shot Jeremy a quick look of amusement and Jeremy winked back at him, struggling not to laugh.
“You need something, Mom?” Lance asked with a bright smile.
“I just wanted Jeremy to come down for the fireworks.”
Lance’s smile promptly vanished as his heart jumped into overdrive.
“The what?”
“Fireworks,” she repeated.
“Jesus Christ, Mom! You said there wouldn’t be any!” Lance shouted angrily, in full panic mode as he ran towards the door.
She grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Now wait a minute,” she snapped, just as Jeremy barked, “Chill the fuck out, man!”
“Tanner—” Lance broke off, knowing there was no time to explain anything anyway. Just as he jerked his arm free, he heard it. The first boom of a bottle rocket. The first of many being launched in quick succession.
“Tanner is outside, so he won’t miss any of the fireworks show,” she quickly assured him.
“That’s the fucking problem! Goddammit, Mom! Tanner has PTSD!” He raced downstairs, not waiting to hear anything else. At this point, all that mattered was finding Tanner. Yanking open the patio door, he ran towards the last place he’d seen him.
The backyard was flooded with brilliantly colored lights from the fireworks overhead. Even though they were inexpensive and not all that impressive, whoever was in charge had a good setup, setting them off one right after the other. Red, blue, green, white, and yellow flashes half-blinded him as he searched for Tanner, who had apparently deserted the lounge chair during Lance’s absence. Suddenly, Lance heard panicked voices rise above the explosions.
He ran towards the voices, and came to an abrupt halt, stunned by the nightmarish scene unfolding in front of him.
Tanner had tipped one of the dessert tables over, using it as a barricade to hide behind. Holding a steak knife in one hand, he held a little girl with the other.
“Fucking let her go!” A man, presumably the girl’s father, stood in front of the table yelling at Tanner. Tanner wasn’t budging. He flinched and shuddered violently with every blast, his eyes wide and filled with panic. He kept shushing the crying child while pointing the knife towards the crowd.
Several people had their phones out, shouting about calling the police.
“Man, seriously, I don’t want to—” the man switched from yelling to begging. Tanner continued to brandish the knife and refused to release the girl. It was dark in his corner of the yard and that wasn’t helping. Obviously, Tanner viewed these strangers as enemy combatants, ready to grab him and the kid, and then toss them in a cell in the middle of the fucking desert.
“Oh dear!” His mother rushed up to stand next to Lance, wringing her hands.
“Stop the fireworks! Right the fuck now!” Lance yelled at her, but she just stared blankly at him and didn’t react to his directive.
“Alright! That’s it, asshole! I’m done waiting!” the father snarled at Tanner.
“No!” Lance cried out in panic, wrapping his arms around the guy, holding tightly as he struggled.
“He’s got my girl!” The man shouted angrily as the woman standing next to him was on her phone, begging a police dispatcher to send help.
“He’s protecting her!” Lance yelled back at the father. “The fireworks triggered him. He’s a military veteran with PTSD. He thinks you’re going to hurt them. He’s just protecting her!”
As Lance’s words sunk in, the father stopped struggling. Lance dropped his arms. He told everyone to back up and let him handle this. He did his best to block out everyone else, including those on their phones talking to the police. For now, he needed to deescalate the situation before someone got hurt.
Overhead, the fireworks were still going off at regular intervals. Just how many of those goddamned things were left to launch? Tanner flinched with every blast.
Lance whipped around to face the father. “You want to help your kid? Go tell the fireworks guy to shut that shit down right the fuck now!” With a quick nod of understanding, he turned and ran towards the fireworks launcher. Satisfied that at least one person was doing something to help, Lance turned back to Tanner, who remained behind the table while holding onto the sobbing girl.
“Tanner, look at me. It’s Lance. Lance Kingsley. You saw me play college football. You sleep on my couch sometimes. Hey, remember me?”
“Lance,” Tanner said slowly and frowned. Somebody moved behind Lance and Tanner tensed, raising the knife threateningly.
“Hey, now! It’s okay! They’re not coming for you,” Lance said, trying to get Tanner to focus on him. “I’m Lance. You’re Tanner. You’re a retired Army vet. You’re back stateside. There’s no one here who will hurt you. I promise.” Slowly, Lance reached into his back pocket to get his phone and then placed it on the ground.
“Lance,” Tanner said slowly, as if he had difficulty processing the name.
“Can I turn on a light? So you can see me? Can I do that?” Lance asked, holding his breath while waiting to see how Tanner would respond. Tanner stared at him for a long, tense moment during which no one spoke or moved. Tanner finally gave a sharp nod.
When the light hit Lance’s face, Tanner jerked backwards in surprise.
“Lance,” he said calmly, having abruptly returned to reality. He stared at the knife in his hand and at the child crying in his arms. He quickly dropped the knife and released the girl, who raced over to her parents. He looked pleadingly at Lance before dropping to his knees and burying his head in his hands, sobbing harshly.
Lance ran to the other side of the upended table and crouched next to him.
“Hey, Tanner, hey. Look at me, okay? Just—look at me.” Lance touched him gently on the shoulder.
“Oh God! Oh fuck! What happened? Who—? What did I do?”
Pulling Tanner onto his lap, Lance rubbed his back and petted his hair soothingly.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s alright—you’re alright—I got you. I got you, okay? You’re safe, sweetheart,” Lance reassured him while continuing to shush him and hold him tightly in his arms. As he glanced over at the now-dispersing crowd, he saw his mother staring at him, wide-eyed with shock.
Lance sighed as he closed his eyes, shutting out everyone and everything to focus exclusively on taking care of his man. Tanner needed—and certainly deserved—all of the love and support that Lance was capable of giving him. He sure as shit wasn’t going to worry about his mother—she was the least of his problems.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Tanner apologized brokenly, his tears soaking the front of Lance’s shirt.
“No. None of that. It’s alright—you’re alright. Everyone is fine,” Lance reassured him, and only that last part felt like a lie.
*****
The party broke up within moments of the arrival of an ambulance and four police cruisers. Tanner felt embarrassed and uncomfortable as the guests departed en masse , either looking at him accusingly or ignoring him with their noses in the air. He did his best to ignore them. The paramedics had him sit in the back of the ambulance with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders—not his choice—while he related his version of the events to a police officer. Or at least—what he’d thought had happened.
“Were you aware that fireworks might trigger you?” The cop was young, very serious, and completely professional throughout the interview.
“Yes, I was.”
“And yet you attended a 4th of July party?”
“That’s my fault,” Lance jumped in to answer before Tanner could respond.
The cop turned to him with a questioning look.
“My mother was hosting the party. I asked her earlier this week if there would be any fireworks and she assured me there would not be. So, I asked Tanner to come with me, thinking it was a safe place for him to be tonight.”
Lance clearly felt a shit ton of guilt about the whole thing. Yet, he wasn’t the one who’d lost his fucking mind over some cheap-assed fireworks. That was allll Tanner. Fuck, he felt like crying. Or maybe like kicking someone. Preferably himself. Repeatedly.
“And exactly what is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Casey?”
“I am his boyfriend,” Lance stated clearly and confidently.
The cop didn’t look surprised, as he merely nodded and jotted it down.
“That should do it,” he said, giving Tanner a friendly smile. “If it helps, you’re not my first PTSD episode of the night. There’s been dozens of calls. It’s like an epidemic.”
Tanner wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to. So, he just smiled politely and remained silent.
“Thank you for coming,” Lance said to the cop on Tanner’s behalf.
“You’re welcome. Please take care and I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday,” the cop said and, with a brief nod, headed back to his cruiser.
“How are you feeling?” Lance asked him, placing a reassuring arm around him.
“Like a fucking loser,” Tanner said bluntly. Lance winced and shook his head.
“You’re not to blame here,” Lance started to explain, but Tanner interrupted him.
“Did you see that kid? Did you see how scared she was? I did that. I fucking did that. Me. Nobody else!”
“Cut yourself some slack. You’ve been through—so much. I was the one who told you there wouldn’t be any fireworks at this goddamned party. Some jackass brought some anyway, and you and I didn’t know anything about it until shit started blowing up. This is not your fault.”
And Tanner heard the words, but they didn’t change a damned thing from his perspective. He turned the words over and over in his mind but didn’t—couldn’t—see things from Lance’s point of view. He looked away as he tried to come to grips with Lance’s claims that he should be held blameless for everything that had happened. He just couldn’t bring himself to agree.
“Listen, man, I know you’re mad, but he didn’t mean it—” Tanner was jerked back to the present hearing Lance’s comment directed towards someone nearby. The father of the little girl was approaching them wearing an unreadable expression.
“Seriously I think it would be better if—” Lance was trying to intercede and protect him, just like he always did. But Tanner wanted the man to come at him, to bring it. He wanted to be yelled at, berated, pummeled into the ground for what he’d done.
But the man didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he extended his hand to Tanner and said, “Thank you.”
Tanner stared at him in amazement. Automatically, he reached out to shake hands with him but was completely befuddled.
“I don’t—” Tanner couldn’t even begin to understand why this man was being so kind to him, after what he’d just done.
The man smiled sympathetically. “You were just trying to protect her.” He spoke as if it should be obvious to everyone exactly what Tanner had been trying to do for his daughter. “I can’t imagine what it must be like—” he swallowed audibly, struggling to continue. “But the fact that you’d protect her even when—” he stopped to take a deep breath. “I lost my best friend last year. Five tours in the Middle East and he took his own life two months after being discharged.” He shook his head, tears in his eyes as he said, “Thank you.” With a grateful smile, he turned and left, leaving Tanner feeling stunned. What in the actual hell? Had he lost his fucking mind? Or had he just been thanked for losing his goddamned mind and holding a child hostage? This was way more than he could handle right then. He needed to get the hell out of there.
“I want to go home. Can we go home? Please?” Tanner fought for clarity and to stay grounded. There were so many thoughts swirling around in his mind. Like a bumper car convention of conflicting thoughts and confusing flashbacks. He couldn’t see clearly. His senses felt dull and numb. Like he wasn’t quite in his body anymore, and it was as scary as it was confusing.
“Of course,” Lance replied, his smile soft and a little sad, knowing that some serious emotional fallout was inevitable.
*****
They’d almost made a successful getaway. Almost, but not quite.
The paramedics had released Tanner, so Lance was in the process of guiding him back to his car. But as they approached Lance’s BMW, they found Harriette leaning against the hood with her arms crossed.
“Mom?” Lance wondered why she would leave the party and lie in wait for him.
She frowned angrily at them. He took a step closer to Tanner, feeling an instinctive urge to protect him.
“Were you going to tell me?” she asked in a low vicious tone. She was royally pissed.
“I did,” he stated calmly, assuming this was about Tanner’s military background. “When Tanner and I moved Parker back in. I told you he was an Army veteran. Hell, I even called to make sure there wouldn’t be any fireworks—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she hissed, interrupting him, as she looked around to see if anyone was nearby. But everyone had gone home, and the neighbourhood was quiet.
“Mom, I don’t know what this is about, but I really have to get us home.”
Tanner was standing next to him looking pale, exhausted, and on the verge of collapsing right there in the driveway. Yep, time to hit the road.
“Home? What? So, he lives with you now? You mean to tell me this is actually serious? ” Her last question ended with a shriek of rage. He saw Parker walking towards them, but he refused to let that distract him. He had to settle this argument with her, the sooner the better, especially for Tanner’s sake.
“Mom—” he said, holding up a hand to try to halt her diatribe. It didn’t work. She was livid and far from done. Unfortunately.
She started screaming, making no attempt to lower her voice. “You brought him here! You caused all this! And the neighbours—oh God, Lance! What if the neighbours saw you? You—God, you called him that in front of all those people! What will the neighbours say, Lance? Did you think about that? About what it might do to me? To your brothers?” Lance could barely comprehend what he was hearing. Her rage-filled panic was over the top. He should have tried to calm her down, but he was too shocked by her ugly accusations to come up with anything.
Practically foaming at the mouth, she just kept at him. “I just can’t believe you’d do this to me. It’s disgusting! I can’t believe it! After everything— everything I’ve done for you boys, you—you would throw this in my face in front of all the people we know!”
Lance took a big step back, like he’d been slapped across the face. He suspected that it wouldn’t be easy for her to understand his relationship with Tanner, but he never expected her to have a nuclear meltdown. He had no clue how to fix a situation of this magnitude.
“Mom, what the hell are you talking about?” Parker asked, as he came up to them. He looked back and forth between them in confusion.
“Tell him!” she commanded through gritted teeth, angrily jerking her head in Parker’s direction. “Go on! Tell your brother what you’ve done!”
Done. Like he’d committed a murder or burned down their house. Done. Like he hadn’t just—fallen in love.
“Tell me what?” Parker looked anxiously at Lance.
“Tanner and I—” Suddenly a sense of calm descended over him. No shame, no doubt. Just a clarity of vision and complete confidence now. “We’re together. We’re in a committed relationship.”
Everyone took a deep breath. His was one of relief at having finally made the big announcement to her and Parker. His mother’s deep breath was one of shock and disgust. Parker’s was one of surprise and confusion.
“You’re gay?” Parker asked.
“I’m with Tanner,” he replied.
Parker frowned and shook his head as if Lance had to be mistaken or simply confused or maybe both.
“No—” he said, looking sternly at Lance. “You’re not. Like—you’re not. You’ve had girlfriends and—”
Lance took another deep breath and resigned himself to the fact that there would be no fixing this. Not tonight. Not while standing in the middle of his mother’s fancy-assed driveway. He had to get Tanner home. That was his number one priority. Time to call a halt to this little after party and get his ass on the road, which is what he should have done in the first place.
“Tanner and I are together. End of story. I’m not asking for your permission. I don’t give a flying fuck what you think. I’ve given enough to this family over the years. Now if you’ll fucking excuse me, I’m done here and I’m heading home with my boyfriend.”
His mother scoffed, throwing her shoulders back and taking a step towards him.
“You can’t talk to me like that!” She snarled as she got up in his face, so Lance raised a hand in warning.
“I don’t owe you a goddamned thing. Maybe I did at one time. But not anymore. You need to remember that, if nothing else. So, with all due fucking respect, get the hell out of my way, right the fuck now, Mother dear .”
It must have been threatening enough because Parker jumped to pull Harriette backwards, out of Lance’s way. Lance put his arm around Tanner’s shoulders and helped him settle into the passenger seat. Tanner looked at him blankly the whole time, his gaze lost and distant. Lance fastened his seatbelt for him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
His mother just couldn’t leave well enough alone. She started in on him again as he hastened to the driver’s side.
“You’re embarrassing your family! Think of your brothers! You can’t—”
“Stop it! You know what’s embarrassing, Mom? Leaving your three kids to fend for themselves while you play pretend in a completely different city for three fucking years. You know what else is embarrassing? Refusing to call the cops on your abusive husband, even when he breaks a beer bottle over your son’s head simply because you’re afraid of what the neighbours will think. That— that is truly fucking embarrassing!” At this point, he was yelling loudly enough that everyone within a two-block radius must have heard him. But he didn’t give a good goddamn. Let her deal with the repercussions of their showdown. She could just dig her own way out of the gossip pit. He was fucking done with her shit, her insults, and perpetually nasty attitude towards Tanner. He couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there and never darken her door again.
As she put a hand up to her mouth in shock, he yanked his car door open and slid in. Cranking the engine to life, he laid rubber all the way down her goddamned, fancy-assed driveway to the street. If she said anything else, he didn’t hear it. He’d already heard enough. More than enough.
*****
Tanner felt like a fly on the car’s windshield. He could see everything , but he felt paralysed, absent, completely fucking lost. Somewhere, somehow, he was aware of the argument next to the car between Lance and his mother. He was aware of the tension, the pain, the hurled insults. But it seemed as if he was now in a bubble. He could see things but couldn’t quite grasp them. Weirdly detached, he didn’t really feel much of anything, just watched things happen around him.
Lance was silent on the drive home. Clearly furious about his mother’s attack on him and Tanner yet keeping it in until they were home and safe. There was no denying the flash of anger and guilt in his eyes every time their gazes met. Tanner wanted to fix it—but right then, he didn’t have the mind space for anything more than a vague smile he hoped looked reassuring. Tanner wanted to help. Wanted to be the boyfriend Lance deserved, but he was still too far gone to say anything meaningful. So, he just drifted off, lulled by the silence and comfort of Lance’s presence.
When he finally emerged from his stupor, it was to rivulets of water running down his cheeks and Lance’s concerned frown. The hot water from the shower was doing a great job of drowning out the outside world, and safe with only Lance—he felt calmer than he had in hours.
“Hey,” Tanner said, running his hand tenderly along the edge of Lance’s jaw, enjoying the scratchiness of his short beard.
“Hey,” Lance replied, voice thick with emotion. “Welcome back,” he whispered and then kissed his cheek.
Tanner felt his heart swell with affection as his toes curled against the cold tile of the shower. Their shower. The one he shared with Lance. Home. Tanner had asked to be taken home, and here they were. Tanner hugged him as hard as he could to convey the depth of his gratitude.
Someone hiccupped. Someone sobbed. Someone’s tears fell to the tile floor first, lost in the shower spray. It wasn’t just him, and it wasn’t just Lance. It was both of them, wrapped up in each other.
“I’m sorry,” Tanner said against Lance’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.”
Lance laughed shakily and hugged him back, neither one wanting to let go. Not until the water started running cold. Then they jumped out of the shower and dived under the duvet on their bed. Arms and legs tangled, faces mere inches apart.
“You scared me,” Lance said, thumb brushing Tanner’s cheek. “I didn’t know what to do—I didn’t—didn’t want you to be scared,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.
“You shouldn’t have had to see that—I’m sorry I couldn’t—” but Tanner never got to finish, because Lance pressed his mouth to his in a voracious kiss.
“I want every piece of you. All of you, sweetheart. The good, the bad, the batshit crazy, all of it!” He was so adamant, so assertive, that Tanner had neither the strength nor desire to argue. Not right then. Not when his body felt so heavy with exhaustion, relief, and gratitude.
“But that argument you had with your mom—I should have said something. I should have defended you. I couldn’t think, couldn’t—”
“Shhh,” Lance said, kissing him again. “My mom’s not your worry.”
“It’s my fault she—”
Lance shook his head and kissed him again.
“I don’t care what my mother thinks, Tanner. I don’t give two flying fucks what she thinks. Truly. I’ve devoted half my life to making her happy—I’m not giving her this.” Lance’s certainty convinced Tanner of his sincerity, so he relented with a sigh, relaxing in Lance’s embrace.
Lance hugged him closer, kissing him on the lips and forehead. Tanner was drawn instinctually to Lance’s heat. He felt safe there. Safe like few places made him feel.
“I’m so glad you’re feeling better now,” Lance whispered into Tanner’s hair. “I’m so fucking glad.”
Tanner dropped off to sleep feeling the warmth and safety that only Lance could provide.