Chapter 222

“Good girl.” Andy hugged her, and headed back up the sidewalk toward the doctor’s office. 14

Scooter was not drunk.

Or at least, not as much as he wanted to be. He’d gotten out a bottle of vodka, a fresh one, and unscrewed the cap. Poured a shot. Stared at it for a while.

Considered actually just drinking straight from the bottle. He hadn’t done that in a long while, but it would get the job done.

Didn’t.

It boiled down to one simple fact: he was somebody’s parent now and having Billie walk in that door and see him falling down shitfaced wasn’t going to be good for her. He had a responsibility to someone else, someone who couldn’t be responsible for themselves.

He drank the one shot.

Carefully twisted the lid back on the bottle. Put it back under the sink.

Sat down on the sofa and just stared at the wall.

Discovered a few minutes later that he’d acquired a kitten in his lap and a dog with his chin on Scooter’s thigh. Huh.

A little while later, he heard the truck pulling into the garage, and then feet on the stairs. Trick trotted over to the door to greet them, though the kitten kept purring under his hand.

“Hey, boy,” Andy said to Trick, and his tone was oddly subdued.

Billie, too, was quieter than usual. “Hi, Uncle Scooter. C’n I have Muffin?”

It took him some time to detach the kitten; he could swear that kittens were part Velcro. “One fuzzball,” he said, handing over the kitten, who had gained ninety pounds, it seemed, like in the effort of moving her. Kittens had a weird effect on gravity like that, Scooter had noticed. “So, what was the verdict?” He glanced up at Andy and then all thoughts of glasses went out of his head. “What…the hell happened to your face, baby?”

Andy grimaced and touched the bruise on the side of his face. “An accident,” he said. Billie seemed to shrink in on herself and held the kitten closer. Andy waved in her direction. “She clipped me. Not on purpose.” Her eyes were flicking from Andy to Scooter and back, so there was definitely more to it than that.

Scooter managed a ghost of a smile. “Like old times, hey, Big City? Need an ice pack on that?”

Andy actually laughed a little. “Nah, they took care of me at the doctor’s while they were checking her over. And the verdict is glasses. They’re ordered; they’ll call us in a few days when they’re ready.”

Scooter took a deep breath, felt the way it shivered into his lungs. “I’m gonna have a smoke. Come sit with me for a bit, Andy? You can watch some tv or something if you want, kiddo.”

Andy’s eyebrows went up, but he just nodded. “Of course.” He ruffled Billie’s hair gently, and hung the keys to Scooter’s truck on their hook by the door while Scooter got his smokes.

Scooter barely got out the door before he had the butt in his mouth and flicked his lighter, but at least Andy had closed the door before he got smoke-smell in the house. He took another drag, moved down the balcony all the way to the far end near their bedroom, before leaning against the wall. He didn’t have much longer; it was his shift as cook tonight, and the dinner rush would start up in another hour or so.

“Take it I’m not the only one who’s had a bad day,” he finally managed.

Andy huffed. “She had one of her tantrums and I wasn’t…ready to deal with it. What the hellhappened to your throat, honey?”

Shit. Scooter put his hand to his neck. Chris had bruised him. Jesus wept. “It’s Memorial Day week,” he said, slow. “I’ll give you one guess who’s in town.”

“He didn’t,” Andy growled. He came in close and gently tipped Scooter’s chin up, looking at Scooter’s throat without quite touching. “That son of a bitch. I’ll call the cops on his ass.”

“No. You won’t,” Scooter said. He couldn’t quite look at his husband. “It…it’s not what you’re thinking. I wish it was.”

Andy hesitated and stepped back a little to look at Scooter’s face. “What is it then?”

“He didn’t…” That step back hurt, God, he was going to…ruin everything because he’d been too stupid to push Chris away the second Chris had laid a hand on him. “He didn’t do it to hurt. We…Jesus, I’m sorry. When he used to. He did this. A lot.” Scooter made a gesture with his hand, trying to indicate the way Chris used to hold him down when they fucked. “He…he was trying to seduce me.”

Andy’s eyes widened and then closed. “I’m going to assume,” he said, his voice trembling, “that he failed. And I’m going to have him arrested for assault.”

“Andy, honey, I would…I would never do that. I don’t want him. Please, you have to believe that.” He was shaking so hard it was a wonder he didn’t drop his cigarette.