18. The Moment, Dash/Beau

One week later

What a difference a month made.

A single moment had changed me to the core. Being in the right place at the right time began to look more like destiny than chance. The way life aligned for me, locking into place, had me considering all the challenges Beau and I faced. One by one, we knocked them down together.

If the resort hadn't faced its difficulties, if his grandparents hadn't put up such a fight, I might not have ever met Beau. Yeah, fate took on a tangible meaning in my life. It became real and fluid, and I'd appreciate it every moment for the rest of my life.

"Amelia's nice," Beau said absently, staring out the passenger side window. We held hands as much as I could while handling the stick shift. Apparently, my selfishness knew no bounds. I did my best to occupy all our time, keeping Beau to myself. The idea of parting with him to complete my fall semester took on a bleak, desolate outlook.

When had I become so emotional?

I couldn't ask that same question about becoming controlling, I'd been that since birth.

"She's having a well-deserved vacation. I'm in a place that takes care of everything for me. Her tan's coming on strong. I'm also sure she didn't need to come here. I'm responsible and honest…" Beau interrupted me before the outrage tumbled from my lips again.

My only real issue with Amelia was her keen eye. She knew me and watched me closely. And that was technically okay too. She approved of Beau. She hadn't forbidden Beau's nights spent with me. She stayed discreetly away, never in my way.

"Says the guy who stole his niece's car every night to come see me."

All right, mister. One eyebrow cocked at the refute. Clearly, we needed to make a few new rules. When I launched into a baseless complaint, Beau should agree with me instead of introducing reason and truth into the mix.

When he glanced at me, he said, "I win."

"You always do. It's very annoying," I remarked sharply, downshifting to take the turn to his house.

He casually shrugged me off in the typical air of competitive arrogance, causing me to laugh. I guessed facts were facts.

As we drew closer to Beau's house, I noticed three police vehicles parked in front of his grandparents' home. My gut sank at the possibilities, none of them were good. My father said he'd help. "What's going on?"

Beau swung his head toward the front windshield and reached for the cell phone in his back pocket. At the same time, the front door opened. A commotion spilled out into the yard.

"That's my dad," he said in that fearful way he used when speaking of his father. "Drive to the house. Hurry."

The tension in the car escalated in the few moments it took to arrive in front of the home. We watched his grandfather grasp his father's forearm then get shoved several feet backward until he tumbled hard to the ground. The police, who had created a u-shape around the front porch, finally intervened, attempting to manage the growing volatile situation that had Beau visibly upset.

Without hesitation, he leaped from the car before I came to a full stop. He left the door wide open as he sprinted toward his grandfather. "Keep your hands off him. His heart's weak." He bellowed with a vicious voice. Maybe the meanest I'd ever heard. "Get away. Why're you here?"

"That's him. Put him in my truck."

I stood corrected. His father was loud, commanding and sounded like a demon from the depths of hell. Beau evaded one officer to get to his grandfather's side. Tears streamed down his mom's face as she spoke urgently on her cell phone, requesting an ambulance. Her gaze fixed on me.

I broke the boundary lines I hadn't yet crossed and hurried to Beau's grandfather's side. He was unconscious, with his wife kneeling on the other side of Beau.

I hadn't paid much attention in health class, but with the blood near his head, I remember the teacher telling us to elevate the head and shoulders slightly. I removed my polo shirt and wadded it up to place under his head, hoping I wasn't making everything worse. "I believe he should lay still and his body straight, just in case there's a spinal cord injury."

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Brooks said, drawing my attention to her anguish. She passed the phone to her mom and came to Beau, drawing him up. Her hands covered each of his cheeks. They stood inches apart.

Her words tumbled out so rapidly it was hard to understand. "Your dad has a legal order to take you back to Alabama. They know about you and Dash. They have photos. I'll fight this Beau. I promise you." She circled her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Do what he says. Don't be defiant. He's promised not to hurt you. I'll be back with you in Alabama as soon as I can get there."

"I'm goin' back to Alabama?" He stared at his mother in utter confusion. My brain blipped as I tried to grasp the seriousness of what was happening to Beau.

"Son, this doesn't have to be difficult. It'd be better for everyone if you voluntarily got inside your father's truck," an officer said with empathy, keeping a courteous distance from Beau and his mother.

"Fuck that," his father yelled and pointed to the truck between the patrol cars. "Get in the fuckin' truck. I'm tired of all this. You're legally in my custody."

He held a file folder in hand with a picture of Beau and I at the Fourth of July fireworks celebration. I'd purposefully stood behind him, admiring his ass. I hadn't let up on my request for a PDA. Reluctantly Beau placed his hand between me and him. The handhold had only lasted about fifteen seconds. Who had been there to take our picture? I hadn't seen any photographers for days.

The fault of the day rested solely on my shoulders.

It was hard to believe the promise of no abuse as Beau's father stalked toward him, rage on his face. "Get in my fuckin' truck. I'm not sayin' it again."

"What about my stuff?" He set his shoulders and feet, readying to battle, but the glance he gave me spoke of sorrow and regret. He knew he was out of options.

Oh no. My palms began to sweat as the understanding that Beau was leaving me forever seeped past my rapidly building barriers. My anxiety spiked into the stratosphere, making me breathy and scared.

"There's nothin' here you need." He gripped Beau's bicep to drag him across the yard. My guy stumbled as he held my stare the entire way. How did I tell him that I loved him? I'd wait for however long I had to.

"Stay the fuck away from him." His father aimed his disgust and anger toward me as he yanked open the truck door. I'd started toward Beau without even realizing I had. His father's vicious sneer had me halting. I didn't want to make this more difficult for Beau than it already was. "Whatever this was is done. If you contact him, I'll get a restrainin' order and press harassment charges against you. The papers are ready to be filed."

"Take care of my paw, and my mom," Beau called out, his voice cracking before his head was shoved from behind into the backseat of the pickup.

I nodded, watching the tears well in his eyes. My heart darted across the lawn, going with Beau, wherever he was being taken. He stared at me through the window of the truck as the engine roared to life. I jogged toward him as I absorbed a death punch to the center of my chest. He continued to stare at me, turning his head to look out the back window until he couldn't be seen.

I was stunned and dropped my hands to my knees, keeping myself upright as I gasped for air. I needed to call my father. He was powerful. Surely he could do something.

Until then, I had to do what my love asked. When I started back to the yard, I found Beau's mom behind me, taking me into a loving hold. The police finally stopped the charade of protection from this family and began helping Beau's grandparents.

"I'm sorry," she muttered with tears in her voice. "I don't know how he got hold of that picture. I didn't see it anywhere in the news but be sure that I'll fight to get my boy back. I promise. His dad won't hurt him. He's just loud and intimidating. Beau knows how to handle him."

Her words appeared to reassure herself more than me. I held her tighter as the sounds of the approaching ambulance grew closer.

What happened now? With the way my heart thundered and darkness crept into my vision's edge, I began taking deep gulps of breath to stave off the pending hyperventilation.

Seeing Dash running toward me with tears in his eyes broke my heart more than anything else. Thankfully, my mom had gone after him. She'd give Dash comfort. She was just that way.

With zero emotional support to cling to, I was returning to a life I no longer wanted.

Beau

"I shouldn't have let you leave. I messed up," my father said, staring at me from his rearview mirror. I refused to look up. Instead I did the exact opposite, bending to stare at the floorboard. "When you quit football, it never occurred to me that you were havin' queer tendencies. Then it all clicked in place. I did this to protect you. Being queer ain't no way to live your life. It'll only cause you pain. If you'd've talked to me, I could've helped you navigate all this. Curiosity's normal for any kid. You aren't the only one I've had to help over the years."

Since I hated that man, I refused to appreciate the gentle tone he used in his horrible explanation. Honestly, I expected him to be kicking my ass all the way to Alabama.

"You're too much like me not to be angry as hell right now," he said. "I haven't shared this with anyone except my girlfriend. She lives with me and plans to help get you right again. I've spoken with the pastors at The Rock church. They've offered a few avenues to help your recovery. We'll start with the easy way then progress as necessary. I've designed a strict schedule to get you focused and ready to play again. That, and I've put you in harder AP courses in school. No more breezin' through life. Everything I've done will help keep your mind occupied. You're also startin' counseling a few times a week. Not with one of those feel-good therapists. We're gonna target this head-on. You'll get past it. Got it?"

Of course I didn't respond; I was barely hanging on.

"If you're a jerk about it, I promise it'll be harder on you. A man needs to be with a woman. That's the way it was intended. The counselor's gonna help you learn the tools to cope with your urges. Eventually, you'll figure it out, I promise you."

I let go of an unsteady breath and continued to stare at my tennis shoes. "What's gonna happen to Mom?"

"You'll have supervised visitation once she meets with your counselor, but that's gonna be damned difficult with her so far away. Until then, she can call once a week. Those calls will be monitored too. She's let shit happen under her watch that shouldn't have happened, per the court's emergency ruling. There's also no communication with that kid you were with, got it? You initiate a conversation or try to maintain any sort of relationship, there will be significant repercussions. You hear me?"

Anger raged through me so intensely my mind and body went numb. My fingers trembled. I slammed my forehead against the back of the front seat. I'd tasted a life of freedom. I wasn't going back.

"Challenge me on this and find out, buddy." His sympathetic tone turned harder and unyielding. "You better get used to the idea of spendin' all your time with me. When you were little, you wanted me and you to move through life together. I abided by your wishes. Do you know how many offers I've turned down from the NFL in order to stay home with you? I'm damn sure not gonna let a bunch of hormones get in our way."

Why did he always tie me to something I supposedly said when I was four years old?

And whatever. He'd never turn down the NFL. That was a lie.

He turned up the radio, signaling an end to our conversation. At the same time, I felt the vibration of my phone in the pocket of my cargo shorts. I glanced at my father who hadn't seemed to notice. The first chance I got, I had to turn it off to better help hide it and save the battery. If he found the phone, I'd never be allowed to keep it.

A world that Dash had turned bright dimmed back into the state of oppression I'd always lived under. A tear slipped down my cheek, already mourning the life I was leaving behind.

After consuming more beer than I'd ever seen him drink, more than he used to drink in a week, my father passed out hard. The remote control tumbled off his belly onto the king-sized mattress in a motel approximately six hours from Mobile.

I was relegated to the other side of the mattress, with one wrist cuffed to the headboard as a consequence of all the sneaking out I had done over the years. That was another thing I apparently had to get used to. I feigned sleep almost immediately after arriving. I needed the rest because I'd start conditioning and training the minute we arrived home tomorrow. He claimed I'd grown emotionally and physically soft since I'd left his care.

The tears I'd fought for most of the day began to silently fall as I reached for my cell phone.

With deliberately cautious movements, I pulled the phone free. I only had a small amount of battery remaining as I quietly worked the keyboard to open my text messages. All the while I kept track of my father's snores.

He sent three messages. Shamefully, I opened his first.

"Be safe. I love you. Do what he says until I can get my dad to help."

"Ur mom caught me up on your dad's emergency court decision. We'll figure this out. Just wait for me. Don't lose hope. I'll wait for you forever."

How long was forever? Years might go by before I could even talk to him again. This phone just became more of a lifeline than ever before.

"I'm sorry to say, your grandfather isn't doing well. He's in a medically induced coma with a ventilator. Your grandmother's by his side. I'm worried about you. Text me when you can."

I understood it might be silly, but I touched the small screen, seeking a connection with Dash. I wish I had a photo.

It took me a moment to craft my message back to him.

"I'm okay. My phone's hidden. I'm sorry. It's gonna be difficult here. Don't wait for me. Thanks for looking out for my paw. I'm turning my phone off until it's safe. IDK when that's gonna be." I ran out of texting space and pushed send as tears again streamed down my face.

We'd only had a month together, but man, what a difference thirty days made to my soul. Dash was too shiny to be stuck with a guy like me. "It's best for you to go on. I'll always remember you."

I pushed send and wiped a hand over my cheeks then under my nose.

I quickly opened my mom's text as my father mumbled something about a red barn in his sleep. "Do what he says. I love you. I'll be there as soon as I can." I wondered if she knew the hoops she had to jump through to be with me again.

I typed number by number as quickly and quietly as I could. " Me too. I'm sorry about Paw. Tell him I love him. He's a great paw. Keep my phone on." I pressed send. My father woke in a stupor, stumbling from the bed to the bathroom. I clicked the button to turn the phone off and managed to get it tucked back into my pocket before his return.

My life was over. My mom couldn't help me. I didn't know how I knew, but I did.

Fear, sorrow, and sadness caused my empty heart to turn to stone.