Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Dad, please, Wells needs privacy.”
“I don’t give two fucks about this faggot’s privacy. Did he force you into this?”
Wells balked as he glared over at Benedict, but before he could say anything, Matty was yelling back, “Absolutely not. This is mutual.”
“No! He’s making you.”
“Dad, stop! He is not.”
“He’s too old for you! He is forcing you into this!”
Wells’s brows pulled in as Matty shook his head. “No. Fuck, stop. That’s not what this is at all.”
“Watch your mouth, boy. I am your father, and you will stop this right now!”
“Dad, we need to calm down. Let’s go into the kitchen so Wells can get dressed.”
“No, you explain to me right now. Is this a phase? Is this a cry for help? Do you know what you are doing? You’re not only ruining your own damn name, but mine too! I am the commissioner of the NHL. I can’t have a fucking gay son. We are not made like that. We are men. Haverbrooke men are real men, not gays!”
“I am a man!” Matty roared, his body shaking, and he could feel Wells watching him. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you, I wanted to introduce you—”
“Matthew, I don’t want to hear this. Why are you doing this? Are you crying for attention? What?”
“Dad, I’ve been gay since I was a teenager.”
But Benedict shook his head. “No, I didn’t raise a gay.”
“It’s homosexual,” Wells muttered, rolling his eyes. “And you don’t raise them, it’s just who we are.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he demanded, and Wells laughed.
“Excuse me, sir, but I’m a grown-ass adult, and you don’t get to talk to either me or Matty like that.”
“Matthew is my son!”
“I don’t care if you’re God and he’s Jesus, you aren’t going to talk to him like that!”
“Which is why you’ll burn in hell with the rest of your gay-loving fags, but not my son,” he sneered back. When Benedict looked back to Matty, his eyes were wild as he shook his head. But all Matty could do was stand there, his own eyes filling with tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He wanted to tell them face-to-face, to explain things, but that wasn’t what was happening. He was getting screamed at and ridiculed instead. “We will get you help, I promise. I’ll find the best therapist. I’m sure this is a phase.”
Holding back his tears, Matty pleaded with his eyes for his father to understand. Surely, he understood. Matty hadn’t dated girls growing up. Yeah, he covered that with the excuse that he was too busy with hockey. But surely this man, his father, knew the truth. Deep down. Matty was banking on it, but his father’s eyes held nothing but disgust and wrath swirling in the turquoise depths. It was no use. Anything Matty said, his dad wouldn’t listen to. He knew that. He felt it in his heart, and the rejection cut bone-deep.
Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “Dad, no. This is who I am.”
“No!” he shouted, looking back to Wells. “I should beat the fuck out of you. You know I can ruin you!”
“You can try,” Wells said, shrugging, standing beautifully naked, his eyes trained on Benedict’s. “But in the end, my family loves me, and Matty loves me.”
Matty’s father actually gagged. “You do not love this man.”
“I do,” Matty asserted. “Very much.”
“Matthew!” he roared, causing Matty’s ears to ring. Benedict was livid, way worse than when Matty was ten and he smashed the headlight of his dad’s BMW with a puck. He’d actually thought he would die that day, but at the moment, that day was nothing compared to the fear that was shaking his core. Because if his father put his hands on Wells, Matty would kill him. And if he put his hands on Matty, he was pretty sure Wells would be the one killing his dad. “This isn’t who you are, son. Please, listen to me,” he pleaded, coming toe-to-toe with Matty. “Think of your career. You’ll never be looked at the same, everyone will make fun of you, they won’t take you seriously. Gays can’t play hockey—”
“Actually, Commissioner, there is already a program to work with the LGBTQ community. You approved it, I’m sure,” Wells offered, and Matty wished he hadn’t said anything. You didn’t argue with his father. It didn’t work. He was always right, according to him.
“I did that to make people happy, but in no way, shape, or form did that mean I wanted my son to be one of them,” he shot back, his gaze trained on Matty. “Son, this isn’t who you are. You are strong, you are talented, but being in a relationship, loving a man, that is disgusting and wrong.”
“It is not,” Matty tried, a sob choking him as his father’s gaze blazed at him. “It’s who I am.”