Chapter 24
Connor
Both Ryder and I stood frozen in our tracks.
Pete, who wasn’t supposed to come to the church dinner, was standing there, obviously waiting for us.
Evelyn was behind him, her cheeks tinged red and her brow furrowed in concern.
It was clear the two of them had been arguing.
Pastor John stood nearby, clearly trying to intervene.
But from the way Pete’s eyes narrowed in on us, I knew we were fucked.
No amount of intervention was going to stop him.
The look in his eye told me he knew what was going on.
My heart sank. This was the moment I’d been dreading ever since Ryder and I had gotten involved. I always knew that if Pete found out about us, he’d destroy us both. And now, as I stood there only a foot from his son, I saw my freedom slowly fading away. The writing was on the wall.
“So,” Pete growled, his gaze darting between the two of us. “Where have you two been?”
“I... we were just getting some fresh air,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Pete’s face twisted with disgust. “Fresh air? Is that what you call it?”
My mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this situation. I needed to protect Ryder, needed to keep Pete’s fury directed at me instead of his son. But before I could say anything else, Ryder stepped forward.
“Dad, it’s not what you think—”
“Shut up!” Pete snapped, his voice cutting through the sudden hush that had fallen over the church hall. Several people turned to stare. “You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know what’s been going on?”
I glanced at Ryder, saw the fear in his eyes, and something inside me hardened. Seven years in prison had taught me to recognize when a situation was about to turn violent. Pete’s flushed face, his clenched fists, the slight sway in his stance. He’d been drinking, that much was clear.
“Mr. McGrath,” I said carefully, “maybe we should take this outside.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” Pete growled, taking a step toward me. “You’re nothing but a convicted criminal. You’re on my property because I allow it. And this is how you repay me? By corrupting my son?”
Evelyn moved forward, placing herself between Pete and us. “That’s enough, Pete. You’re making a scene.”
“A scene?” Pete laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. “You haven’t seen a scene yet, Evelyn. You think I don’t know you’ve been helping them? Passing notes like they’re in high school?”
My stomach dropped. How long had he known? How much had he seen?
“Pete,” Pastor John said, his voice calm but firm. “This is God’s house. Let’s all take a breath and—”
“Don’t talk to me about God,” Pete spat. “Not when you’re harboring sinners under your own roof.”
The room had gone completely silent now, all eyes on our little drama unfolding by the entrance. I could feel the weight of those stares, the judgment, the curiosity. But I kept my focus on Pete, watching for any sudden movements.
“Dad, please,” Ryder tried again, his voice shaking. “You need to go home and sleep this off. I’ll drive you.”
“Home?” Pete’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “You think you’re ever coming home again? After what I just saw?”
My blood ran cold. What exactly had he seen?
“And what did you see, Pete?” Evelyn challenged, her hands on her hips. “Two young men taking a walk? Having a conversation?”
Pete’s face contorted with rage. “I saw them coming out of those woods looking like they’d just—” He stopped himself, glancing around at the churchgoers watching with rapt attention. “I know what they were doing.”
“You don’t know anything about us,” Ryder retorted.
Pete’s eyes narrowed and my stomach twisted. Ryder had just given us away, admitted to the accusation by saying us.
“You’re damn right I don’t,” Pete snarled, taking another step forward despite Evelyn’s attempts to hold him back. “But I know what I saw. And I know what people like him do to young men like you.”
The accusation hung in the air, heavy and poisonous. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, judging, condemning. Prison had taught me exactly what it felt like to be looked at like I was something less than human. But this time, it wasn’t just about me.
“People like me?” I echoed, my voice dangerously quiet. “You mean ex-cons? Or gay men? Which one bothers you more, Pete?”
Pete’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red. “Both,” he spat. “You’re a criminal and a pervert, and you’ve been corrupting my son.”
I felt Ryder tense beside me, ready to leap to my defense, but I subtly shifted my weight, blocking him with my shoulder. This was my battle to fight.
“I haven’t corrupted anyone,” I said evenly, though my heart hammered in my chest. “Your son is an adult who makes his own choices.”
“Choices?” Pete laughed bitterly. “You think he chose this? You think he’d choose to throw away everything—his future, his inheritance, his reputation—for someone like you? You’ve manipulated him, turned him against me, against everything I’ve taught him.”
“Dad, stop it!” Ryder’s voice cracked with emotion. “Connor hasn’t done anything wrong. This is between you and me.”
“No,” Pete growled, his eyes never leaving my face. “This is between me and him. The convict who thought he could come onto my property and seduce my son.”
I stood my ground, refusing to be intimidated despite the very real threat to my freedom. One phone call from Pete to my parole officer, and I’d be back behind bars before midnight.
“Mr. McGrath,” I said, trying one last time for reason, “I understand you’re upset, but—”
“Upset?” Pete’s voice rose to a shout. “You think I’m just upset? You’ve been fucking my son!”
The words echoed through the church hall, followed by shocked gasps and murmurs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pastor John flinch at the language, but he didn’t back away.
“Pete McGrath!” Evelyn snapped, her face flushed with anger. “That is enough! You’re drunk and making a fool of yourself.”
“Stay out of this, Evelyn,” Pete warned, shoving past her to get closer to me. I could smell the whiskey on his breath now. “Unless you want a black eye too. I ain’t puttin’ up with your badgerin’ anymore. My only concern is teaching this convict a lesson.”
“You will not be doing that God’s house. Or spewing accusations and hate like a viper in this sacred space,” Pastor John said firmly, stepping between us. “I think you need to leave, Pete. Come back when you’re sober.”
Pete’s face darkened as he glared at Pastor John. “Don’t you lecture me about God’s house when you’re turning a blind eye to sinners and criminals.”
“Dad, please,” Ryder pleaded, stepping forward despite my attempt to keep him behind me.
Pete spun toward his son, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You shut your mouth. I didn’t raise you to be like this. You’re coming home right now, and we’re going to fix whatever this convict has done to you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Ryder said, his voice steadier than I expected. “And Connor hasn’t done anything to me that I didn’t want.”
The admission hung in the air, and I watched Pete’s face contort with rage. His fist clenched at his side, and I knew what was coming next. I’d seen that look enough times in prison to recognize when a man was about to throw a punch.
“Ryder, get back,” I warned, but it was too late.
Pete lunged forward, swinging wildly at his son. I moved without thinking, stepping between them to block the blow. But before Pete’s fist could connect with either of us, Larry appeared seemingly out of nowhere, shoving me aside and taking the hit square in the jaw.
The sound of knuckles against bone cracked through the church hall like a gunshot. Larry stumbled backward but didn’t fall, his hand coming up to touch his rapidly swelling face.
“Jesus Christ, Pete,” Larry muttered, wincing as he worked his jaw. “Have you completely lost your fucking mind?”
Pete stood frozen, momentarily shocked by what he’d done. The entire room had gone silent, dozens of eyes watching the scene unfold with a mixture of horror and fascination.
“You’re fired,” Pete finally spat at Larry. “All of you are fired. And you,” he turned to me, his eyes wild with hatred, “you’re going back to prison where you belong.”
“On what grounds?” Pastor John demanded, stepping forward again. “Assault? Because we all just witnessed you throw the first punch.”
“He violated the terms of his parole,” Pete snarled. “Fraternizing with my son.”
“There’s nothing in my parole conditions about who I can or can’t talk to,” I said, keeping my voice level despite the fear gnawing at my insides. “And you don’t have any proof of anything else.”
“I don’t need proof,” Pete laughed, the sound ugly and desperate. “One call to your parole officer about suspicious behavior, and you’ll be back inside before you can blink. They don’t need much of a reason with guys like you.”
He was right, and we both knew it. The system wasn’t designed to give people like me the benefit of the doubt. One accusation from a respected rancher like Pete McGrath would be enough to at least get me detained while they investigated.
“That’s not how this is going to go, Pete,” Evelyn said, her voice unyielding as she stepped between him and Larry.
“You just assaulted a man, your friend I might add, in front of fifty people. And made threats to send Connor back to prison without cause.” He stepped closer to him, daring him to raise a hand toward her as she poked in him the chest. “Fifty people just witnessed your stupidity. That’s fifty people that will testify in court that you’re a good-for-nothing piece of shit.
” She jabbed him one last time. “And then you’ll go to prison instead. ”
Pete’s face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as he stared down at Evelyn’s finger jabbing into his chest. His nostrils flared with each heavy breath, and for a moment, I thought he might hit her too.
“You threatening me, Evelyn?” he growled, his words slurring slightly.