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“Dad, we thought you had work tonight,” she says, her voice shaking.

“Got off early to surprise my son for his birthday, but apparently, he’s been out doing God knows what.” He stands abruptly, the harsh scrape of the chair against the floor making me flinch. Fear anchors me to the spot as he steps closer, my pulse racing. Logically, I know Dad’s never laid a hand on us, but the memory of those guys at the party has my nervous system in overdrive, every instinct screaming at me to brace for impact.

He stops in front of Paige, his furious gaze narrowing on me over her shoulder. “Is that makeup on your face, boy?”

“Mark, why are you yelling?” Mom hurries down the hall, gasping audibly when she takes in my battered face. “Sweetheart, what happened to you?!”

She rushes forward, her hands reaching out to touch my face, but I wince, the numbness starting to fade and the pain setting in.

“Some guy beat him up for what he was wearing,” Paige explains, glaring at our dad, whose lips curl back.

“What did you expect? He looks like a fuckin’ queer!”

“Mark,” Mom scolds sharply, but the rest of her words are drowned out by the heat rising in my chest.

“Because I am queer!“ I shout before I can stop myself.

Dad’s features twist with anger, red like a cherry about to pop. “What did you just say?”

My throat tightens, and swallowing hurts thanks to the splint in my nose, but I force myself to stand taller. My shoulders square as I step out from behind Paige. “Dad, I’m gay. I’ve always been gay, and I didn’t deserve to get my nose broken just for walking by. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

A heavy silence follows, the atmosphere shifting as I watch my dad’s expression morph from stunned outrage to disgust.

Shame has me opening my mouth to apologize, to take it all back, but he speaks before I can get the chance.

“Get out of my house,” he says quietly, so low I almost think I misheard him.

“B-but Dad—“

“I said get out!“ he roars, the sheer force of it making us all jump. “I will not tolerate this under my own damn roof.”

He storms off through the house, his footsteps echoing like thunder. Mom and Paige chase after him, but I don’t follow. I can’t.

My legs feel like they’re made of lead, rooted to the spot as stinging tears spill over my already raw cheeks. Choked noises claw their way up my throat, a desperate, ugly sound I can’t control.

He…kicked me out. My own father kicked me out.

I’m homeless. Where am I supposed to go? How will I finish school? What am I supposed to do?

“Igs, hey.” Paige’s arms wrap around me, careful not to press against my battered nose. “Shh, it’s alright. He just needs some time to process. It’ll be fine.”

“It’s not fine,“ I wail into her shoulder, my chest heaving as it feels like it’s collapsing inward. “He hates me.”

Mom joins us, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. “Oh, my sweet boy, your father does not hate you. He’s stubborn and set in his ways, but he loves you. He’ll come around, I promise.”

But her words don’t halt the sobs wracking my body. It probably isn’t good for the concussion, but I can’t seem to stop. They hold me tightly, Mom wiping my face with gentle hands while my sister tries to console me.

A knock at the front door finally pulls us from the moment, and I look up to see Declan awkwardly standing on the porch, his brows furrowed with concern.

“Everything alright?”

“It will be,” Paige answers firmly before glancing at me. “Can Shilo stay with us at your condo tonight?”

He nods immediately. “Of course.”

“But I don’t want to,” I whisper, my lip trembling. Declan’s condo isn’t the place I want to be. I want to be at his brother’s. With Ryann. But I don’t have a key, Ryann’s busy, and I refuse to jeopardize his career by calling him.

“It’s just for the night,” Paige growls, stomping up the stairs to grab some things from my room. “Until Dad gets his head out of his ass!”