by Sera Trevor
“At the address I gave you. Where are you?”
“In the squad car. We’re on our way.”
Noah sagged in relief. “My parents just left... My dad has a gun.”
“A gun? What the fuck?” The phone muffled as Oscar said something to the police. “We’re right around the corner. They say to stay put.”
Sure enough, sirens wailed on the street. There were shouts, the sound of running. Had they found his parents? Footsteps on the stair, and then Oscar burst through the door.
“Noah!”
Oscar ran over to them, and soon Noah and Bette were in his arms. “She’s okay?” Oscar said around sobs. “You’re okay?”
Noah let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, we’re okay.”
“Thank fuck—” Oscar cut off. “I mean, thank fudge.”
It wasn’t that funny, but they both started laughing while they cried, giddy in their relief. Bette stopped crying and looked up at them with wide eyes. Oscar kissed them each again. Noah’s system was still flooded with adrenaline, but it had changed from terror to joy, the same feeling the night Bette was born.
It felt like birth, like their little family had been transformed. Or maybe it was just him. Already he felt different. Stronger. A new man.
“The police got your folks,” Oscar said. “Some other woman too who was running around screaming. Maria, I’m guessing.”
Noah kissed Bette’s head again. Now that the excitement was over, she was getting sleepy. “Good.”
“How did you get her away from them?”
“I didn’t, exactly.” Noah bit his lip. “Mom gave her to me.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “Gave her? But then your dad pulled a gun on you?”
“No, the gun came first. I asked her if she was going to let him hurt Bette the way he hurt me. Guess she decided she wasn’t.”
Oscar shook his head. “This is like a Lifetime movie. I’m ready for the credits to roll.”
Noah pressed their foreheads together. “Me too.”
Oscar stood up and offered his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
They descended the stairs and stepped onto the sun mosaic, which gleamed gold in the sunlight. Soon they would return with authorities to the station, and then back to Uncle Alonso’s house. They would call Carmen and Zeke, Crystal and Jeremy, Alex, Chad, Nikki, Stephanie, and Sophia. And they would cry together in relief.
They’d return home; there would probably be a party. And then Noah would go to the hospital and bring Rebecca home, and there she would get better. They would all get better.
But at that moment, Noah didn’t care about the future. He leaned into his husband’s embrace as he held his baby girl in his arms, basking in the warmth of the sun and their love. Against all odds, he had won the life he had dreamed of. He planned to cherish every moment.
Epilogue
Six months later
Bette grabbed onto the armchair, her chubby arms shaking with effort as she pulled herself to her feet. She grinned in triumph and stepped one foot out, and then another, and another.
“There she goes again,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “Showing off.”
Bette fell on her butt with a grunt. Then she laughed and clapped her hands.
They were sitting in Rebecca’s converted bedroom. It hadn’t taken much to convert the living room into a space for her. Carmen had helped decorate, to make it a place just for her. There was a painting of a girl standing in a field of sunflowers on the wall, a bookshelf with figurines of Rebecca’s favorite animals, and a vase that Noah made sure always had fresh flowers. Two folding screens separated the room from the rest of the downstairs, giving her some privacy.
In addition to a bed, they’d also brought in a soft brown reclining rocker, so that Noah could rock Bette and be with Rebecca at the same time. Not that she needed him as much anymore. She grew stronger every day.
“You’re catching up to her,” Noah said. “You did really well at therapy yesterday.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Rebecca cocked her head and smiled. Nikki had cut her hair so that it looked like the shaved half was deliberate. It was a confident lookthat went well with her new attitude. Noah was amazed every day with her progress. They both had changed so much.
Noah would never, ever in a million years say that the terror and pain they both endured were “for a reason.” But he could admit that their newfound strength was a bright silver lining to the whole affair.
Oscar appeared in the doorway. “Dinner’s just about ready.”
Oscar grabbed Bette while Noah helped Rebecca into her scooter. The therapist said she would probably never have the same mobility that she had before the aneurysm, but they had said the same thing about her speech, and she had surprised them all. She still struggled for words sometimes, but not so much that anyone would notice if they didn’t know what she’d been through.
By the time they got to the dining room, Bette was in her high chair, happily squashing an avocado on her face. Noah made plates for himself and Rebecca. Eating was another challenge for her, but she gripped her fork with determination.
They chatted about their day as they ate, nothing too heavy. But right when they were about finished, Oscar cleared his throat. “So, are you going to see her?”
Silence. His parents had just been sentenced, and his mother had asked for him to visit her in prison. She’d asked for Rebecca too, but she was a hard no. Noah had to think about it.
He’d been avoiding the conversation. Some habits died hard. He pushed the last of the food around his plate. “Yeah, I think I am.”
Oscar sighed and rubbed his face. “Well, you know how I feel about it.”
“You have made your disapproval vividly clear,” Noah said.
“It’s not disapproval,” Oscar said. “It’s bafflement. Seriously, you owe her nothing.”
“I owe my father nothing. But with her...” Noah shrugged. “I guess I want closure.”
“You got closure! Prison doors, slamming shut.” Oscar clapped his hands. “That’s pretty damned closed.” He looked to Rebecca. “What do you think?”
“I support whatever Noah needs to do.”
Noah squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
Bette blew a raspberry and shook her arms furiously. Noah wondered whether that meant she was for or against it.
Later, when Noah was sitting in bed, playing on his phone, Oscar curled up beside him and put his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled. “I don’t mean to be unsupportive.”
Noah put his phone aside and ran his hand through Oscar’s hair. “I get it. You just want to protect me. But I can handle myself.”
Oscar grinned up at him. “You’re damn right you can. You might even say—” he dropped his voice into a terrible Liam Neeson impression—”you have a very specific set of skills.”
Noah groaned. “I thought you were going to drop that.”
“Never. You will always be my action hero.”
Noah tapped him on the nose. “And you’ll always be my spunky yet vulnerable love interest.”
Oscar trailed a finger down his chest. “Ready for a love scene?”
In response, Noah captured his mouth in a Hollywood-worthy kiss. “Always.”
The visiting room was bleak. Florescent lighting, sad chairs and tables, no decoration. An old vending machine hummed in the corner.
Noah’s leg jiggled as he waited for them to bring in his mother. He almost didn’t recognize her when she walked through the door. She was skin and bones, her hair cut short. In all of his life, he’d never seen her with short hair. If revenge was what he was after, one look at her would give it to him.
He didn’t want revenge, though, so all he felt was sad.
She offered him a ghost of a smile as she sat down across from him at the table. “Thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.”
Noah picked a cuticle. “Neither was I.”
Silence. His mother spoke first. �
��You look well. How’s Rebecca?”
“Doing well. We think she’ll walk again—at least some.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She paused. “And Bette?”
“We’re not talking about Bette,” he said firmly.
She wilted. “No. I suppose not.” She looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. “I have something to tell you. I’ve left the Witnesses.”
Noah was glad he was sitting down. He might have fallen over otherwise. She couldn’t have shocked him more if she’d confessed she was an alien from outer space. “What?”
She kept her gaze cast downward. “There’s a Christian group here, and they’ve helped me see how destructive it was. I can’t believe I lost so many years, and my children...” She peeked upward.
Noah hardened. “I’m glad for you. But that doesn’t change anything.”
She pressed forward. “I’m divorcing your father. I’ll never see him again.” Her fingers tapped on the table, a staccato stutter. “I’m leaving that life behind. I’m a new person—born again.”
Noah’s head hurt. He stood up. “This was a mistake.”
“Wait!” she wailed. She reached out for him but stopped herself. With great effort, she folded her hands on top of the table and pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry. Just give me five more minutes. I don’t deserve it, but please. Please.”
Slowly, Noah resumed his seat. “Five minutes.”
She wasted the first minute chewing on her lip, her gaze lowered as she fought tears. Finally, she composed herself. “I know that I deserve nothing from you. It was your father’s idea to take Bette, but I went along with it. I take responsibility for that.” Her voice caught. “But it was the worst mistake of my life. If only I had been thinking clearly, out of that Witness haze...but I guess God works in mysterious ways. It took losing everything for me to realize the error of my ways. I am truly sorry for what I’ve put you through—both of you.” She paused. “And Oscar, too. Will you tell him I’m sorry?”
Noah nodded but didn’t say anything. It took all he had not to fall apart.
She grew more confident. “I just wanted to know if someday—” She held out a hand. “Not today, I know that’s too soon. But maybe in the future, maybe we could mend things.” Her eyes were full of hope.
Noah didn’t say anything for a long time. “I’m glad you’ve left the Witnesses. It’s hard at first, but the freedom you’ll gain, even in here—it’s worth it.”
He shut his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. “And I’m glad you’re leaving Dad. You should have done it years ago.”
“I’m sor—” his mother began.
He held up a hand to stop her. “But you can’t change the past. And that’s hard. You have a long road.”
He took his mother’s hand, so old and frail. “I wish you the best. I’m sure the future holds more in store for you. But it’s a future that will never include my family.” He let her go. “I’m sorry. That’s just how it has to be.”
His mother’s shoulders shook as she started to weep. “I have nothing left—nothing! Is there no room in your heart for forgiveness?”
Tears stung his eyes, but he wiped them away before they could fall. “This isn’t about forgiveness, Mom. I could forgive you with all my heart, right here and now, and it wouldn’t change my decision. Some mistakes you just can’t take back.”
She cried harder. “And do you forgive me? Will you at least give me that?”
Noah ran a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know, Mom. I don’t.”
There wasn’t much to say after that. The guards came to take her back. She turned around one last time. Their gazes met. He tried to reconcile this broken woman with the mother he had known growing up, the one who taught him how to cook, who introduced him to classic movies, who tucked him into bed and helped with homework...
...and who made excuses for his dad, and who imposed a religion on him that made him so afraid of himself that he almost missed out on his whole life.
She loved him. He didn’t doubt that. A part of him would always love her, too.
But this was the last time he would ever see her.
He called Oscar once he was back in the car. “How’d it go?” Oscar asked.
“She’s left the Witnesses and Dad.”
“Holy sugar.”
Noah let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah.”
“She didn’t rope you into coming to see her again, did she?”
Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m done with her.”
“Good.” A pause. “Did you get what you needed?”
“Yeah,” Noah said quietly. “I think I did.”
Noah drove away from the prison, with its gray concrete walls and barbed wire. The barren landscape changed as he drove, wasteland giving over to brush, and then trees and flowers, and then civilization again.
He checked the time. About an hour or so to San Diego. Soon, he would be back with his husband, daughter, and sister. Soon, he would be home.
THE END
Coming Soon
Coming soon to audio - The Troll Whisperer
I'm excited to announce that The Troll Whisperer will be coming soon to audio from narrator Michael T. Bradley. Michael did such an amazing job with Curses, Foiled Again, and now he's brought his magic to Oscar and Noah's love story. Sign up to my newsletter so that you don't miss the release!
About the Author
Sera Trevor is terminally curious and views the 35 book limit at her local library as a dare. She’s a little bit interested in just about everything, which is probably why she can’t pin herself to one subgenre. Her books are populated with dragons, vampire movie stars, shadow people, and internet trolls. (Not in the same book, obviously, although that would be interesting!) Her works have been nominated for numerous Goodreads M/M Romance Reader’s Choice Awards, including Best Contemporary, Best Fantasy, and Best Debut, for which she won third prize for her novella Consorting with Dragons.
She lives in California with her husband, two kids, and a cat the size of three cats. You can keep up with her by signing up for her newsletter at her website at www.seratrevor.com.