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“It’ll be okay,” I said quietly. “I promise.”
I had no idea if that was true, but I needed her to believe it. Maybe I needed to believe it too as I walked out of the house.
CHAPTER 68
Theo
No one moved. After the front door shut, we all just sat there, shocked and silent. I stared at the empty chair across from me, trying to process what had just happened.
Holy shit.
Rhodes came out.
Rhodes told his family he was gay.
He hadn’t actually said the words I’m gay, but there was no denying that he was. Not with how he’d aligned himself with the gay community like that. Not with the way he pushed back against his father’s commentary.
Admittedly, listening to Mr. Kennedy spew hateful commentary about a gay couple he saw on the news made me more uncomfortable than anything he’d said before. Not because the sentiment was new, but because something in me had changed. Maybe changed wasn’t the right word. I’d always known I didn’t fit the mold everyone expected, but I understood myself better now. I was more certain of who I was—more comfortable in my own sexuality—and that made his words hit a hell of a lot closer to home.
And watching Rhodes go out the door after his father felt a lot like watching him willingly walk toward his own personal firing squad. My heart pounded so hard in my chest that I was positive it was going to fall right out. Every instinct I had screamed at me to get up and chase after him—to protect him however I could—but I was frozen in my seat, caught between knowing this was Rhodes’ fight and hating every second I wasn’t out there fighting it with him.
My parents looked wildly uncomfortable beside me, like they had no idea what to do. I couldn’t blame them. I had no doubt they’d leave if they could, but they’d have to walk past the conversation Rhodes was having with his father, and I had a feeling that was the very last thing they wanted to do.
Jude was the first person to move, and it was subtle as he reached for Mrs. Kennedy’s hand. She pulled away, and I caught a flash of hurt in his expression that he quickly hid.
“He said it’ll be okay,” Jude told her quietly.
“I know,” she whispered. From the look on her face, she wasn’t convinced. Her gaze was firmly planted on the front door, her lips pressed together in a tight line. “I need to be out there. He can’t do this alone. He needs me.”
Before either of them could move, the yelling started outside, loud enough to be heard through the door. At first, I couldn’t make out the words. All I heard was Mr. Kennedy’s furious voice matched by Rhodes’ controlled tone—the one he used when he wasn’t trying to lose his shit. With every passing minute, their volume rose, and their conversation turned uglier. Every awful thing Mr. Kennedy had ever said fueled the horrible things he said about Rhodes. It wasn’t disappointment or confusion. It was rejection and disgust.
Eventually, Rhodes gave up the fight to control his temper. It felt like a lifetime of anger exploding all at once. Unfortunately, it only pushed Mr. Kennedy to be more cruel, and Mrs. Kennedy visibly flinched. A few words carried clearly enough to make my stomach turn—not enough to piece together a full sentence, but enough to understand that he was taking everything Rhodes had just admitted and using it like ammunition. He wasn’t arguing with him anymore. He was just trying to hurt him.
My heart lodged in my chest. I knew there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help, but it broke my heart to listen.
“No.” Mrs. Kennedy shook her head as she pushed back from the table. Her movements were slow enough that Jude reached out to steady her, but she waved him off. “He’s not doing this alone.”
Before she could take a single step, something slammed hard against the front door. Jude and I were both out of our seats before I realized I’d moved. My stomach dropped so fast I felt like I was about to throw up. Mrs. Kennedy froze, her eyes wide as she gripped the back of her chair so hard her knuckles turned white.
For one horrible second, nobody knew what the hell had just happened.
But I had ideas—really awful ideas.
Jude beat me to the door by half a step. He yanked it open, and cold air rushed into the house as both of us spilled out onto the porch.
“—you’re not welcome in my house! I don’t want to see your face ever again! Do you understand me? You are not my son!” Mr. Kennedy was yelling across the lawn.
I stopped dead in my tracks. For a second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t fully process the words.
Rhodes was already halfway down the drive, moving toward his car in furious strides. He didn’t turn around and didn’t say a word to his father. His shoulders were rigid, and his fists clenched tight at his sides.
Behind us, Mrs. Kennedy gently pushed her way between us, a broken sound escaping her.
“Rhodes!” she called after him. Her voice stopped Rhodes, his hand on the driver’s side door. He turned, and my stomach dropped.
Blood streaked from a split in his lower lip, bright red and dripping into his beard. His jaw was clenched, and there was something almost frightening in his eyes. It wasn’t fear or shock—just fury and hurt tangled together. There were suddenly no guesses about what the bang against the door had been.
“What did you do to him?” Mrs. Kennedy exclaimed, anger rising in her voice as she rounded on her husband.