“All I want is for you to be happy, so I’ll support you no matter what, but you need to think about what could happen if you do work out and if you don’t.”
“We have, Mom. We’ve talked; we’ve thought long and hard.” Archer looked over at Cain and smiled. “I wasn’t expecting to see Cain again much less at your wedding, but it’s like fate’s giving us a second chance and...shit, I can’t believe I just said that.”
Cain laughed and grabbed Archer’s hand. “That was—”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Fuck, are you holding hands?
Robert stood and glared at Anton. “You are in our house, and you need to stop that this instant.”
“I’m in your house, Dad.” Anton sneered. “I can say what I want.”
“Anton—”
“You’re not my mom, so shut the hell up.”
“Ant, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Cain stood in front of Archer, who was in the process of getting up. He glanced over his shoulder and gave a short shake of his head. He’d handle this. Anton was his brother and needed Cain, but he didn’t think Anton would accept any help from him.
Archer’s hand gripped Cain’s shoulder, and he covered it with his own, his eyes firmly fixed on Anton. Anton vibrated anger. It felt like the waves of anger pulsed through the air, rolling out from him in all directions.
Cain almost believed he could reach out and touch it as it shimmered in the air around him. Anton’s hands were clenched into fist so tight his knuckles had lost all color. His body stiff, the muscles in his arms bulging as they flexed.
Cain took another step closer and stopped when Anton’s anger-filled eyes glared at him. “You,” he spat.
Cain swallowed and held out his hands in front of him. “We’re here to help, Anton.”
“You?” Anton sneered, looking Cain up and down in disgust. “You, a butt muncher, wants to help me?”
“You’re my brother. Of course, I want to help you. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Want me to bend over so you can fuck me too?”
“What?” Archer’s hand tightened on his shoulder, but Cain ignored it. It was a low blow but one to be expected given Anton’s behavior. “I see. That’s what you think, that I’m having sex with my brother.” He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and held his hand up, stopping Robert. He’d handle Anton.
“Aren’t you? You must have thought it was your lucky day when you saw him standing at the church.”
Cain snorted, shaking his head. “No, not really. You know I’ve only ever dated women before Archer.”
“Yeah, right. Pathetic fag knew he was gonna get his ass raped.”
“Anton! What the hell are you saying? I won’t have you talking to Cain like that. He’s your brother.”
“Brother?” Anton whispered so quietly Cain struggled to catch the word. “Brother?” Anton inhaled swiftly, and Cain braced himself for the eruption he knew would follow. “Brother?” Anton screamed.
“Anton, please stop.” Lydia reached out to Anton, but he smacked her hand away.
“Fuck off, stepmom.”
“That’s my daughter you’re speaking to, boy. You’re not too big that I can’t put you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve.”
“Fuck off, old cripple. Like you could do anything—”
Cain staggered back as Anton dropped to his knees. “I can’t, but my cane can.” Walter hobbled into the room and stood glaring over Anton, his cane held over his prone body. “You need to learn some lessons, boy, or you’ll cross the wrong person, and you’ll be fucked.”
“I’ll be fucked. Sorry, old man. Already been there, only I didn’t get the chance to say no.” The quiet words echoed in the deadly silent room.
Cain’s head swung to Robert, whose mouth had fallen open. Cain saw Robert processing Anton’s words, the color leeching from his skin. He raised a shaky hand to his mouth, shaking his head slowly.
“Anton.”
“Fuck off, Robert.” Anton tried to stand, but Walter shook his cane at him.
“You need to talk to your father.”
“What for? He can’t help me know. None of you can!”
He scrambled to his feet, and Cain reached out to him, dodging the fist he flung at him. He hugged Anton, ignoring his attempts to push him away. “I got you. We all have you.”
“Let me go!” Anton screamed.
Cain leaned back and stared into Anton’s eyes then shook his head. “Tell us. No one here will think any less of you. We love you. I love you. You’re my baby brother. Let me in.”
“That’s what he said, and no I’m not going into the fucking details.” Anton pushed Cain hard, and he stumbled back, giving Anton time to move away.
Cain watched Anton pace the room, arms wrapped around his stomach, wondering what the hell to say when Robert beat him to it. “Son—”
“No! You don’t get to say that to me. Where were you when I needed you most? I cried for you, and you didn’t come. He hurt me, and you were nowhere.”
“Who hurt you?” Archer asked. “Tell us his name, and we’ll deal with this. He can’t get away with what he did to you.”
Anton snorted. “Why does it matter now? He’s moved away.”
Cain stared at Anton, trying to remember all the people who had left. None sprang to mind—
“Reverend Richards? You went to Sunday school. He took over the classes and then he left under strange circumstances.”
“Probably caught fucking some other kid,” Anton muttered darkly.
“I’ll kill him.” Robert raced from the room, and Cain ran after him, stopping when he saw him at his gun safe.
“Dad, think about this. You can’t go all vigilante. We don’t even know where he lives.”
“He touched my son.” Robert pulled the gun free and tried to load the bullets but kept dropping them because his hands shook so much.
Cain walked up to him and gently placed his hand on Robert’s shaking one. “We call the police. We stay with Anton. We provide the support he needs, and we prosecute the mother fucker.”
Robert’s eyes snapped to Cain’s. “I want to kill him with my bare hands. I want to tear him apart. Anton was six, Cain, when he went. He was six!”
“Robert.” Lydia put her hand on his shoulder and gently pried the gun from Robert’s loose grip. She handed it to Cain and took Robert in her arms.
“I failed him, Lyd; I failed my own son.”
Cain left the room quietly and stood staring at Anton who had fallen to the floor. He kneeled in front of him. “I’m going to call the police.”
“Why? What good will it do now?”
“He hurt you; he’s hurt others. We have a chance to stop him before he does more damage. You need to tell the police what happened to you, and then we find someone who can help you.”
“I’m not weak.” Anton glared at him through red rimmed eyes.
“No, you’re not. You kept this secret for so many years, but now it’s time to tell the truth. We will all support you. You’re not alone, even if it feels that way.”