Bad Boy 4 Page 7

  He hated himself for the mistakes he'd made. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have chosen this for himself? Peter hung his head. He wished he could sink into the floor.

  “And now, the office phones have been ringing off the hook. Parents are demanding to pull their children out of school for good. Do you know what happens if we have less students?”

  Peter held up his hands again, interrupting the principal. “Wait. How did they find out? I thought you said that you'd only received an anonymous email,” Peter asked, practically having heart palpitations. He broke out in a cold sweat.

  “I don’t know, but they know, and more and more of them, every second.” Principal Close shook his head.

  Peter felt like his blood was rushing from his face. He swept his hands through his hair. This was a living nightmare. He knew who was to blame. Hate and rage boiled inside him. How could he?

  “I just … I don’t know what to say,” Peter said, defeated.

  The principal closed the door. “Take a seat, Peter.” He gestured to a chair.

  “Yes, sir,” Peter said, practically falling into the seat in a light faint.

  The principal sat down on the edge of the desk, “You know of course, that this is very serious. Almost irreparable.” He tsk'd, shaking his head again.

  “I know,” Peter said, what little moisture that was left was quickly leaving his throat.

  “Almost,” the principal said, “We could sweep this all under the rug. Call it a misunderstanding. I could personally call each and every concerned parent and extinguish this little fire before it becomes too big to handle.” Now Principal Close sounded smug as he folded his arms across his chest. His smile was cruel and arrogant.

  Peter looked up. There was something in the way that the principal said it that sounded shady and he waited for the other foot to drop. It sent a cold chill up his spine. He didn't like the look that Close was giving him. He frowned and lowered his head again.

  "I’m sure that you and I could make some type of arrangement,” he said, his tone more than a little suggestive.

  “Arrangement?” Peter said, sputtering, his stomach turning at the thought that he might be suggesting what he thought he might be suggesting.

  “Sure. I had no idea you were … I mean, I always thought were you just a straight single guy. I didn’t know that we had the same … interest.” Close smiled at him, slick and oily.

  “What are you proposing?” Peter asked, with a sour taste in his mouth. Not only did it disgust him, it made him sad too, because he would never escape this. He'd never be able to leave that life and just live his dream with Chip. He wanted to blame it all on Tony, but he knew that he couldn't. It was his fault.

  “Come on, Peter. You’re a smart man. We’re both adults. We know how this works. You help me out, I help you out.” Close tried to coax him, grinning from ear to ear.

  Peter shot up. “Never.” He shook his head vehemently denying him. He was done. He'd accept the consequences if he had to, but he wouldn't sell himself again. His body, heart, and soul belonged to Chip.

  The principal seemed offended by his statement. “What do you mean, never? I’m offering you a way out. A way to save this school’s reputation. A way to save your reputation, your career.” He threw up his hands, his face drawn into a scowl as if he couldn't understand why Peter would deny him.

  “I will not be blackmailed into ...”

  Close sputtered, “Blackmailed? Blackmailed?” the principal said, laughing it off.

  Peter got up to leave. He'd had enough. If he had to lose his job, so be it. He wouldn't do this. The very thought turned his stomach and made him sick. If he had to listen to another word, he feared he might slug Close right in his smarmy face.

  “Peter,” Principal Close said with such sharpness it made Peter freeze in his spot. “I only have friends and enemies. Nothing in between. Which one are you going to be?”

  He'd heard words so similar to those before, right out of Tony's mouth. He'd be damned if he ever let anyone do that to him once more. He was better than that. He deserved better. So Peter turned back, knowing he was making a big mistake, but he wouldn’t live under the thumb of anyone else ever again, “Take a wild guess.” He gave Close a big, dazzling smile.

  And with that, he left, slamming the door so hard, the glass almost shattered.

  CHAPTER 9

  “He said ‘what’?” Chip asked later that evening, his brow arched.

  “That’s right,” Peter said, still disgusted with the thought. He shook his head, still boiling with rage. Still so angry. And there was nothing he could do about it.

  Chip grabbed Peter’s hand and squeezed It was a firm, comforting grip. Already Peter felt soothed, his anger ebbing away. He sighed and leaned against Chip's shoulder. He was so grateful, so lucky to have him in his life.

  “Look, we’re going to get through this. Just hold on. We’ll figure this out,” Chip said, his free hand patting the one he held. He was trying to be reassuring, Peter realized that. And he appreciated it, but he didn't have high hopes for the situation.

  “Maybe,” Peter started to say, his gaze drifting off to the window. Another big sigh left him. It hurt to give up the job he cared so much about.

  “Maybe what?” Chip asked, concerned, his brow furrowing.

  “This could get bad … really bad for you, for Johnny ...” Peter started to say around the hard lump in his throat. He was so tired of being a burden, of being someone of whom Chip had to be ashamed. Oh, Chip never said that he was. He wouldn't. But Peter thought that maybe he should be.

  “No,” Chip said, standing up. “Absolutely not.” He shook his head as he let go of Peter's hand. He was clearly ready to take action.

  “You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Peter said, protesting.

  Chip shook his head again. He put a hand on Peter's shoulder. “I know what you’re going to say and the answer is ‘no’. You can’t keep running every time things get tough. That’s not the way to handle things.”

  “But you don’t understand,” Peter pleaded, “Your job. Your career. I don’t know how big this could be.” He could see it now, the scandal. It would ruin everything, ruin the dream. Chip would lose his job, kids would make fun of Johnny and single him out. He couldn't bear the thought of it. Hadn't he done enough? he wondered? Hadn't he already hurt Chip with his poor judgment?

  “The answer is no,” Chip said firmly. “And we’re not discussing this anymore.”

  “So, what do I do?” Peter said, throwing up his hands, exasperated and upset.

  “Look, they’ve suspended you, right?” Chip said.

  Peter nodded, his stomach twisting in knots. “Until further notice. Which means forever,” Peter groaned, lowering his face into his hands. Again, he wanted to sink into the floor. When would this end? He thought. If he knew Tony like he thought he did? Never. Never was the only answer.

  “Good,” Chip said, sitting back down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders and drawing him close.

  “Good?” Peter questioned, completely confused. He had no idea what Chip meant by that!

  “I told you I wanted to take Johnny away for a few days, and I want you to come with me.” He smiled gently at Peter.

  “What? Where?” Peter said, not sure if it was the best idea, but liking it at the same time. Being off somewhere with Chip sounded wonderful. They could really use a family vacation.

  “I want you to meet my family. My mom, my dad, my brothers,” Chip said, giving him that sexy half-smile of his.

  “You do?” Peter said, trying to contain his excitement, “Are you sure this is the best time?”

  It just kept getting better. He'd been with men who had never wanted him to meet their parents. Men who weren't even out to their parents. It always made Peter feel like some ugly, dirty secret. Something to be hidden. He just hoped Chip was sure about this.

  “My family is the most non-judgmental group you’l
l ever meet. They’re a pain in the ass, but they won’t judge you. As you’ll see, they’ve got their own issues. So you wanna come?” He clapped Peter on the shoulder, encouraging him. How could he say no to that?

  Peter smiled sheepishly and nodded. Chip grabbed his face in his palms and kissed him deeply. Every kiss was just an affirmation of his love for Chip. It was spiritual, their connection. It was a bond that nothing could break. The world could try, Peter thought, but he was forever Chip's, mind, body and soul. His heart began to race as Chip's tongue slid into his mouth and his hand circled around to the back of his head, holding him there in that perfect moment.

  Chip finally broke the kiss, planting a brief, small one to the corner of his mouth. He got up from the couch and Peter took a deep breath as Chip trailed off to get Johnny ready. “We wear about the same size so don’t worry about packing, I’ll pack for the both of us.”

  Maybe Chip was right: maybe this was the best idea. Lord knew he wanted to get away from it all, and he did consider it an honor to meet Chip’s family. If things were going to continue going as well as they were going with the two of them, Chip’s family would be his family. Besides, anything was better than sitting home having nothing to do but worrying. Worrying about what Tony would do next, worrying about losing his job forever. Yes, he thought, a vacation was just what everyone needed.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Now, there are a few things you have to keep in my mind with my family,” Chip said, his hands clinging to the steering wheel as they barreled in his rented jeep down the dirt road. The ride was very bumpy and rattled Peter's teeth. He'd never been this far out in the middle of nowhere before, so he wasn't used to roads that weren't paved.

  “What’s that?” Peter asked, staring out the window at the gorgeous river that trailed along the road. He took a sip of his Gatorade. Everything here was so fresh, so beautiful. The sky was painted in sunset colors: vibrant oranges, pinks, and reds. The sunset reflected on the river's water, and it looked to Peter like a lovely, abstract watercolor painting.

  Chip spoke up, interrupting Peter's reverie. “Fishing, that’s sort of my family’s thing. That’s pretty much all they talk about, fishing. Forget it. I don’t think my mother even knows how to turn on a computer.” He shook his head and chuckled.

  “I guess I can go a few days without checking my email,” Peter smiled, squeezing Chip’s hand as he moved the stick into the next gear. It'd be refreshing, actually, Peter thought. He'd really be getting away from it all. No pressure, no stress. It would be nice to take a holiday in the country without all the modern distractions.

  “Oh, and one more thing. If they yell at you, if they scream at you, if they call you every name in the book, don’t take it personally. In fact, consider yourself family when that happens.”

  Peter laughed.

  “Anything else?” he asked. So far, they sounded like nice people. And if they raised Chip, who was a wonderful man, how bad could they be? He was really looking forward to meeting them.

  “Um … yeah, one more thing,” Chip said, looking a little nervous. “They don’t know I’m gay.” Chip kept his eyes on the road then, his hands white knuckling the steering wheel.

  Peter almost choked on his drink. “What?” he sputtered. Chip wasn't out to his family and this is how he planned to do it? All of the stress that had been melting away flooded back, tightening his stomach and giving him an immediate headache.

  “Well,” Chip said, looking in his rear view mirror at Johnny, who was fast asleep, “they knew Johnny’s mother. Only she was sort of my beard. She knew that me and my ex wanted a kid, or at least I did, and she did it for me, and I just didn’t think my family was ready to hear that yet.” He took one hand off the steering wheel to run it through his hair.

  “And now they are?” Peter asked, his brow pinched, anxiety souring his stomach. What if they weren't? What if they didn't accept him? What if they couldn't accept their son was gay, just like Peter's parents couldn't accept it with him? He wasn't sure he could take the rejection, not after everything that happened. He wished Chip would have said something about this earlier, and it stung a little that he didn't. He understood, though. Coming out was difficult for everyone.

  “Let’s hope so,” Chip said, spinning the wheels as they drove up the hill leading to his parents’ cabin.

  “So, what am I supposed to do? Pretend I’m your friend? How did you and your ex do it?” Hurt clenched his chest. He wanted it to be different with Chip. He didn't want to have to hide who and what he was.

  “My ex never wanted to meet them,” Chip said. That made Peter sad. How could he not want to meet the people who brought this lovely man into the world? He shook his head. He just didn't understand people sometimes.

  “But how could they not know? I mean, you don’t seem ….” Peter trailed off. Chip was so masculine, he'd been surprised to learn he was gay himself.

  “Gay? Yeah, thanks, I guess. It’s just that the subject never came up.”

  “Your mother never said, 'oh, you’re pushing thirty. Why don’t you have a wife yet?'” Peter found that hard to believe.

  “I told you. She thought Johnny’s mother was my girlfriend. Look, I brought you up here because I’m in love with you. And I want to be with you, and I want them to love you and accept you as much as I do. I just really need your support.”

  Peter sighed. He knew it must be hard on Chip, and after all he’d been through with him, this was the least he could do. Still, it worried him. He tried not to think of the worst case scenario. He felt like he'd had such bad luck lately that something had to give.

  “Of course,” Peter answered. “I love you.”

  He placed his palm on Chip’s scruffy cheek and kissed him deeply. With that one kiss, he felt reassured. Loved. Secure and safe. This was his family, the man whom he loved more than anything. He could do this for him. Even if the outcome was less than stellar.

  “Thank you,” Chip answered, calming down a little. “Here we go.”

  ***

  Peter had to admit that he was nervous as he stepped out of the jeep and slammed the door shut. Johnny had already raced up to the cabin door while Chip locked the door. Peter felt his mouth go dry again and his palms got sweaty. What was he going to say? How should he act? His head swam. He decided to let Chip take the lead.

  “You ready?” Chip asked, looking unsure himself.

  “Are you?” Peter challenged.

  An older woman in her early 50s stepped out, putting her hands on her hips as she stepped in front of Johnny.

  “Who are you?” she barked, her nose wrinkled.

  “It’s me, grandma! It’s me!” Johnny said, jumping up and down.

  “Who are you?” she said again, narrowing her eyes.

  “I’m your grandson. I’m Johnny,” he answered, bouncing up and down like a rubber ball.

  “My grandson?” she teased, “You can’t be my grandson. My grandson was only as tall as my knee before, and you …. you’re practically up to my hip!” She put a hand to her hip to demonstrate, a big, bright smile spreading over her face.

  “I am! I am your grandson, grandma.” Johnny exclaimed, beaming happily.

  “Well, you’ll have to do for now until my real grandson appears. Give your grandma a hug,” she said, bending down, embarrassing him. He squeezed her tightly.

  “Can I go fishing?” Johnny asked, once he'd pulled out of the hug.

  “Already?” she asked. “You head inside with your grandpa and we’ll see about fishing later.” She gently shooed him along.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said, racing inside. She shook her head after Johnny good-naturedly, a crooked smile on her lips.

  “Ugh, my knees. Hey son,” she said, smiling at Chip. She stooped at the waist, one hand on her back while her free hand rubbed her knee.

  “Hey mama,” Chip said, going up to her to hug her.

  “Who’s this?” she asked, looking in Peter’s direction.

&n
bsp; “Oh, that’s … that’s Peter,” Chip answered. He left out the bit where they were lovers. Living together.

  “Well, any friend of my son’s is a friend of mine,” she said, putting her arm around Peter and ushering him inside. Peter just wondered how long her hospitality would hold when she found out that he was gay and so was her son.

  Chip looked at Peter and gave him a wink, “Good luck,” he mouthed.

  It was a quaint house, not too big but not too small. It was really homey. The outside was a little worn, but the windows were framed by bright, yellow shutters that really gave the place a cheery, welcoming feeling. He could see Chip as a little boy growing up here, playing on the tire swing in the front yard and riding on a tractor. The house was lived in, with lots of family pictures on the walls. There were quilts hung up too, and Peter wondered if Chip's mother had made them. Immediately, when he walked in the door, he felt welcome. Like this was his home too. It was a wonderful feeling and it helped to ease some of his anxiousness.

  As they stepped inside, the overwhelming scent of the most delicious pasta Peter had ever smelled filled his nostrils. It didn't help that Italian food was one of his favorites and he hadn't eaten all day. His stomach rumbled loudly and he chuckled, a little embarrassed. He could smell the fresh garlic and other herbs and spices wafting from the kitchen.

  “You came on a good day,” she said, “Pasta night. Now, I expect you boys to wash up for lunch before you go out to play.” Chip's mother took a washcloth from her apron and shooed them with it, waving it at them. Peter couldn't help but smile. She seemed so sweet.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Chip smiled, leaning in to give his mother a peck on the cheek even though she swatted at him with the dish cloth.

  “Where is that fucking old man of yours?” she said looking around. “Your brothers are driving all the way up from Pahrump to see you today.” She stuffed the dish rag back in her apron and harrumphed. Peter was a little surprised by her language, but it actually put him at ease.