Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)

“Fine, I’ll do it.” The monster’s cold stare lands on me, sending an icy stab of fear to my heart. “You father is a dirty faggot, Gavin. I fucked his ass for many, many years.”

My mind must be playing tricks on me. None of this is real. I’m still asleep in my bed, huddled under the covers and Mitch is lying next to me.

An unexpected laugh erupts from my chest. “Right! You’re expecting me to believe my dad is gay?” I snort—honest to god fucking snort—while a psycho has a huge gun leveled at me.

I glance around and see that no one else is laughing. In fact, my dad is paler than a ghost and unable to meet my gaze.

“Dad? It’s not true, right? You wouldn’t be so cruel to me if you were gay.” Then I remember what Mitch said about the stalker.

“He’s a self-loathing, in denial, psychopathic, closeted gay man with a serious fixation on you. He thinks he’s in love with you, Gavin, but he hates you for it.”

But Mitch meant the stalker, not my dad.

“You sent those notes because you hate me for representing what you refuse to admit are,” I guess. “That’s why it was so important for me to ‘be a man’ like you. So no one would see

me and figure out that you were gay too.” My dad shifts uncomfortably on the couch and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head with my conclusion. “So what the hell does that have to do with you?” I snap at Troy. Gun or no gun, I want fucking answers.

“Denny lets me fuck him and he admitted what he was doing to you. I simply helped his cause.” The man says it like it’s no big deal to terrorize his lover’s adult son. “It’s not your father’s fault that you’re so fucking tempting.” His eyes roved up and down my body, making my dick practically crawl up inside me with revulsion.

“Gavin, I didn’t know he was doing those things until the media reported—”

“Shut the fuck up, Denny!”

In a heartbeat, Troy’s heated gaze turns cruel and angry. “Fucking fag!” He yells at my father. Then Troy stands up, looming over me like the specter of death. “Stupid blonde cocksucker!” Raising the hand with the gun, he brings it down to make contact with my cheek.

Pain explodes across my face, the sheer power of his hit sending me tumbling off the couch. My shoulder cracks against the tile floor at the same time my dad jumps up, shouting, “Leave my son the hell alone!”

“Sit down, Denny,” Troy growls, pointing the gun at my father. With his attention elsewhere, I swipe my foot out, hooking it under Troy’s. He topples to the ground next to me.

“Gavin!” My dad cries out, making a move to help, but he’s a split second too late. Wolski is already on his feet. Dad holds up a hand. “Stop, Gavin. He’s better trained and stronger than you, even if he is twenty years older.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Troy roars, his face a deep shade of purple. I freeze in place, twisted sideways on my knees. “Both of you goddamn cocksuckers shut up!”

Jesus, in denial much? I guess in his sick mind, if you’re the one fucking you’re not a fag.

“Troy…”

“Denny, keep your fucking mouth closed!” He uses the gun to gesture towards a hallway and smirks. “Now, we’re going to have some fun.”

Mitch

“Goddammit, Gavin!” The urge to roll down the window and chuck my phone as far as it will go is nearly overwhelming. Steadying my nerves, I hit redial. Voicemail clicks on again. “Son of a bitch!”

“Do you still want to go to the house?” Hank, my burly and equally sleep-deprived and cranky, bodyguard asks.

I’ve been wearing the same clothes for over twenty-four hours, including at a crime scene, I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, I reek like a locker room after a football game, and Gavin won’t answer his phone. Before I go to my next destination, I have to clean myself up. “Yes, to the beach house, please.”

When we get to the house and I determine that Gavin is in fact not here, my level of agitation becomes unbearable.

“Where the fuck is he?” I shout to no one in particular. “

Turning to Hank I shout out orders, pointing at him. “You, go home and rest! Get one of the other guys out front and in the car waiting for me!”

“Yes sir.” Hank hurries outside to locate a colleague.

After a lightning fast shower, I pull out my phone and call Sasha. Van Zandt is the one I should be calling, but if I lose my shit over Gavin’s absence, I don’t want it to be to a total stranger.

“Mitch?” Her voice is groggy. I woke her up.