Page 97 of Rough Fantasy

He heard the door crash open and closed his eyes. Rory was home and Zeke wasn’t in the mood for him.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Remember, Zeke, take care of yourself. Those two are a lot of work.”

“Thanks, Jillian.”

He turned his phone off just as Rory sauntered into the bedroom.

He was a fucking mess. He had been out riding on the bike. He hadn’t shaved today, but for Zeke that made him even sexier. Being so fucking drunk he could barely stand up sort of took the sexiness out of it though.

“Hey, lover,” he slurred.

“So, you’ve decided to drink again.”

“I can do what I want.”

He looked at him and his heart wept. Rory avoided alcohol and drugs. He hated it for the most part. Except when things went bad. He was hurting, thinking he’d been rejected by Maura. For a man whose mother committed suicide leaving him with his bastard father, rejection and abandonment issues were always there ready to fuck things up.

Rory pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor behind him.

“And apparently, that means being disgusting.”

“It’s just a shirt on the floor.” Then he burped. Zeke would have laughed if he didn’t know just how much Rory hated this. He wasn’t someone who willingly would get drunk.

“So, you’ve decided to become an alcoholic?”

Zeke said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was trying his best not to reach out for him. Zeke knew that he would just reject him, and that would hurt too much.

“I’m not an alcoholic.”

“You’re on your way. Three nights, three drunken nights, Rory. That’s an alcoholic.”

“I am not an alcoholic. I’m just blowing off some steam.”

Hearing those words tore away any patience Zeke had.

“Isn’t that the phrase your father used all the time?”

“Watch it, Zeke.”

He ignored the warning.

“Tell me, did he say that before or after he beat you?”

“I said to fucking watch your fucking mouth.”

But he didn’t care. He couldn’t see Rory do this to him. He had a lot of other issues but drinking had been one thing he had never engaged in. He hated the loss of control, and he didn’t trust himself.

“So, you’ve just decided to drink yourself to death like your father.”

He jumped up from the bed and grabbed his shirt. “I don’t have to stay here for this.”

He pulled the shirt on.

“No, run just like your father. A coward unable to accept the fact that he was a bastard. Jesus, I can understand why your mother did it.”

Rory turned and faced him, anger lighting his face but Zeke was past being nice.