Nobody's Son (6 page)

Erwin had the audacity to smile. It only served to make him look more creepy. “We worked at the Piggly Wiggly together when I was eighteen. She was a cashier, and I was working stock. She was a pretty little thing, your mama. Smooth skin and curves. I knew the first time I saw her she would be—”

“You’d damn well better get to the point before I get up and walk right outta here.”

Erwin’s expression darkened, but he clearly got the picture. “We got together a few times. Hooked up, I guess the kids call it now. She was—” He stopped and shook his head. “One day she didn’t show up for work. The manager wouldn’t tell me why. I looked up her number and called and left messages, but I never heard another word. I figured she didn’t want to talk to me.” He looked Shaun up and down. “Guess now I know why.”

Bile rose in Shaun’s throat. “You think she left because you got her pregnant?”

Erwin shrugged. “I didn’t then, but when the PI told me about you, I did the math. The timing works out right.”

“And the reason you never tried to look her up before….”

Erwin gave a careless shrug. “Like I said, I figured she wouldn’t be interested in talking to me. She could’ve found me if she was. Never thought that she might’ve had my kid. Not until Vincent told me.”

He grinned then, full of false sincerity. “It was quite a pleasant surprise, I have to say. You’re a nicely turned out young man. Well-spoken too.”

“Articulate, you mean.” Shaun had heard the euphemisms plenty of times, the built-in racism in assuming a black man wouldn’t be able to put together a coherent sentence. Never surprising, always annoying.

“Exactly!” Erwin’s grin widened. “It warms my heart to see my son doing so well for himself. Overcoming your upbringing.”

And that was enough. “My ‘upbringing,’” Shaun shot back, “was being raised by a loving mother and grandmother who taught me to value family, education, and hard work. I graduated from high school and college with honors. I’ve been working since I was eighteen, and the only reason I’m sitting here talking to you is that I know my mama would have wanted me to hear what you had to say.

“But I am
not
going to sit here and listen to you insult my mama and act like we’re beneath you.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “We’re done here.”

“No, wait!” Erwin held up a hand. “Don’t leave.”

Shaun glared. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t walk out and never have anything to do with you again.”

Erwin deflated. “Because I’m your father isn’t reason enough?”

“No.” Shaun wavered for a moment. “But I will agree to one thing, and one thing only. I will
consider
taking a DNA test to prove paternity.
If
I decide to do it, and
if
it’s positive, and
if
you apologize for insulting me and my mother—
then
I will consider giving you another chance. If not….” He shrugged. “Then we’ll be done.”

“Deal.” Erwin stood. “I’ll be ready to schedule the test. Just tell me when.”

Shaun nodded once. “I’d say it’s been fun, but that’d be a lie. Good-bye.”

He turned and walked out. He half expected Erwin to try to call him back again, but he remained silent.

Either that or Shaun just couldn’t hear him over the roaring that filled his head.

AFTER SHAUN
lost his grandfather and his mom—who was an only child like him—family pretty much meant him, his gran, and some distant cousins they saw a handful of times a year. But then there was the man he thought of as his stepdad, even though he’d never had the chance to marry Shaun’s mama.

Darnell Curtis had loved Sharon Rogers. That much Shaun knew for sure. And he’d taken Shaun under his wing not long after he’d started dating his mama. Sharon worked long hours sometimes, often late hours, but since Darnell worked construction, he had most of his evenings free. He spent them playing one-on-one basketball with Shaun at the park down the block, helping with his homework when he could—the math parts, mostly—and fixing things around the house.

At Sharon’s funeral, Darnell had sat on one side of Shaun with his gran on the other. Sherry had insisted. And while Darnell didn’t come around as often as he had before Sharon died, he’d stayed close.

And single
, Shaun thought as he approached Stripes, the tiny little bar a few blocks from Shaun’s house where they met most weeks for a drink and to play pool. They still hit the courts now and then, but over the years, Darnell had starting having knee problems from too many years carrying heavy things around construction sites. He’d taught Shaun to play pool instead.

When Shaun walked into Stripes, classic soul flowed from the speakers, just like always, and Darnell was sitting at the bar, laughing at something the bartender had said. Shaun took a moment to study him. At forty-five, the same age that Shaun’s mama would have been, he still looked a good ten years younger than he was, except for the sprinkling of gray showing at his temples. Construction might have done a number on his knees, but it had kept him fit. He was a fine-looking man, Shaun acknowledged, though he was relieved to find that thought didn’t result in even a hint of attraction. That would’ve been just too weird.

But surely Darnell was attractive enough to find dates. It had been a decade since Shaun’s mama died. Had he really been that attached to her?

Shaun let the door slip from his fingers and crossed the floor to slide onto the stool next to Darnell. “Hey, Lewis.” He nodded to the man behind the bar. “Got something new on tap tonight?” He didn’t drink beer often, but when he and Darnell played pool, it was a tradition.

“Hey, Shaun.” Lewis smiled his familiar gap-toothed grin. “Got talked into some SweetWater Blue this time, or I have the usual stuff.”

“The Blue sounds good.” Shaun turned to look at Darnell as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Is that what you’re having?”

“Yep.” Darnell tipped his glass up, eyes on the baseball game playing on the big screen behind the bar. “Braves are at LA tonight. Having a good season so far. We should hit a game next home stand.”

It had been a couple of years since they’d done that. “Sounds good,” he said. “I could work things out to get some weekend time off for a change.”

The Dodgers batter struck out, and Darnell gave a low “yessss” before turning his head to give Shaun a small smile. “That place still working out okay for you?”

Darnell knew more details than Shaun’s gran did about Oasis, but not everything. He knew the place was gay-owned and gay-friendly, but Shaun had skipped the clothing-optional part of the description, not to mention the increasingly clear focus of his own orientation.

“It’s been great,” Shaun replied. “Boss is easygoing, guests are laid-back. It’s mostly just making reservations and checking people in and out.”

Lewis delivered Shaun’s beer. “That’ll be six.” Shaun pulled out a five and two ones and handed them over with a smile and nod that Lewis returned before turning toward the register. Shaun slid his wallet back into his pocket with one hand and picked up the beer with the other. He took a sip, savoring the crispness and the unexpected taste of blueberries.

To his left, Darnell cleared his throat. “I kinda had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Shaun turned his head and found Darnell was fidgeting. There wasn’t another word for it. Shaun didn’t know if he’d seen him that nervous since the first time they met, back when Shaun was barely thirteen. Then, the nerves had been totally understandable. If they hadn’t gotten along—other than normal levels of Shaun being a teenager—Darnell knew Shaun would’ve come first.

But they’d been almost-family for a dozen years now, and Shaun couldn’t figure out what would make him so hesitant to tell him….

Oh.

He took a deep breath, blew it out, and smiled. “What’s her name?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Darnell’s shoulders drop a half inch. “Katie,” he said, reaching for his beer. “She’s the sister of a coworker. He totally set us up. Had a cookout and invited me over.” He finally turned his head toward Shaun and shot him a grin. “Totally worked, too.”

Shaun ran a finger through the condensation on the side of his glass. “She pretty?”

Darnell swallowed. “Yeah,” he said. “Not like your mama, but—”

“Hey, no need for that.” Shaun shook his head. “I know you loved my mama. Doesn’t mean you gotta spend the rest of your life being a monk.”

Darnell nodded. “I didn’t want anything else for a long time.” His eyes were soft, staring off at some point in the middle of the air. “Still miss her a lot.”

Something in Shaun’s chest twisted. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, me too.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, sipping at their beers. Shaun thought about bringing up Willis Erwin or Con Brooks, but he didn’t know if he wanted to start another serious discussion, not when he hadn’t spent any time with Darnell in weeks. Besides, he couldn’t decide which subject to broach first. Maybe he’d give it another week, see if he knew more.

He still hadn’t made a decision when Darnell sat up straighter and let out a breath. “I think it’s time I schooled you at pool,” he said with a grin that looked more like the one Shaun recognized.

Shaun snorted over the rim of his glass, pushing aside his other thoughts. “You ain’t schooled me in years, old man.”

“Yeah, but I been practicing. Watched
The Hustler
the other night.”

Shaun lifted an eyebrow. “Like Hollywood knows anything. Besides, you can’t hustle somebody who knows how you play.”

“Says you.” Darnell drained his glass and set it on the bar before pushing off his barstool. “You comin’? I’ll even let you have the good cue.”

“They’re all good cues!” Shaun finished off his beer and gave Lewis a nod and a wink. They’d be back for another round after the first game, with the loser buying the next round, and Shaun did not intend to pay for another beer that night.

THREE HOURS
later Shaun let himself into the house through the basement entrance, careful to keep from making too much noise. He rarely stayed out late—not that 12:30 a.m. was all that late—and he didn’t want to wake his gran. She had the same routine every night: she’d settle into her chair to watch the late news, then the late show after that, and inevitably, she’d fall asleep halfway through. She’d sleep for an hour or so before rousing enough to get herself to bed. The house had been dark when Shaun walked up, though, so he supposed she’d already gone to her room.

After locking the door behind him, Shaun dropped his keys on the counter next to the microwave and pulled open the minifridge to grab a bottle of water. He’d ended up drinking four beers total, including the two he’d won off Darnell—who’d managed to win one round this time—and the taste had gone stale in his mouth. He pulled his wallet and phone from his pockets and set them on his bedside table with the water before crossing to the bathroom. He flipped on the light, wincing at the glare, and stripped to his boxers, then tossed the clothes into the hamper in the corner.

He brushed his teeth to get rid of the rest of the alcohol and hops flavor. As he finished he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and grimaced at his red eyes and ashy skin. Beer never had agreed with him, and it was written all over his face. With any luck more water and a good night’s sleep would take care of it.

Shaun hit the light switch on his way out and walked over to crawl into bed. He forced himself to drink more water and plug his phone into the charger, but within fifteen minutes of walking through the door, he was asleep.

WHEN SHAUN
swam up from the depths of dreams to consciousness, he knew only two things. One, it wasn’t yet morning. Not a speck of light came through the window over his bed, which was sheltered by the house and trees from the streetlights outside.

And two, he was so fucking hard that it hurt.

He had no idea what, or who, he’d been dreaming about. He remembered a haze of pleasure, but no sense of touch or taste, and no face or body to go with the sensation.

Damn.
He hadn’t had a dream like that since he was a teenager, hormones running wild. At least he hadn’t messed up the bed like he had then. His mama had been super understanding about it, but that morning when he was only thirteen years old still stuck in his mind as one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. He’d learned to keep a towel close to the bed after that, and his mama hadn’t asked questions.

He didn’t have a towel by the bed, but his dick wasn’t willing to wait. He shoved his shorts down to take himself in hand, his grip lubed by the precome seeping out, and jerked himself hard and fast until he had to bite off a shout when his orgasm hit.

He lay there breathing roughly as he stared at the ceiling. Well, if nothing else, not having to keep quiet when he masturbated was a good reason to leave the nest.

Not to mention if he ever wanted to have sex again.

He groaned and finished stripping off his underwear, then used them to mop up the evidence splattered across his abdomen. It had been a good two years since he’d had anything more than his own hand or a blowjob he wished he could forget. And that thought brought the memory back in stark images: the trip out barhopping for his friend Jordan’s birthday, not realizing until they arrived at location number three that it was a gay bar, and then having one too many and letting himself get picked up.

None of the guys had said a word afterward, though Jordan, who’d never been shy about his own penchant for occasional hookups with men, had given him more than a few pointed looks. But the back-room blowjob from a guy with an incredibly talented tongue had shaken Shaun to his core. Even as brief and sordid as it was, that one encounter had eclipsed all of his previous experiences with women. One mind-blowing orgasm had made him face up to the fact that those thoughts he’d had about men for years were more than just a passing phase.

He still didn’t know if he was gay, but he’d finally admitted—to himself, at least—that he liked men, so he had to be at least bisexual. And damn if that didn’t still terrify him over a year later.