Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(43)

“Does Will know?”

“No. I took the phone out to the corridor. He didn’t need to hear that.”

“So he’s not seeing the light and deciding to treat his son like his son?” Micah’s voice rose a little in anger, but he curbed it. Henry didn’t need somebody else unloading their shit upon him.

“Did you honestly think he would?”

“I just wanted to try.”

“I know, and it’s good of you, Micah. But Scott’s not your usual guy. He sees himself as the victim under attack. His son’s turned against him by not being the son he wanted, and what’s worse, refusing to stop being who he is. Scott would love it if they could just pretend the gay away and never speak of it again.”

“Will can’t live like that.”

“And that’s why he left.”

“We only did it because we know he wants to see his dad.”

“I know. But only Scott is going to be able to come to the party on that front. And right now he’s not.”

“I’m sorry.”

Henry sounded kind. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just letting both you and Emma know so you don’t go over there again. More for your safety—well, not safety, because I don’t think he would do anything—”

Micah decided not to let him know about being thrown up against the wall.

“—But more for your own state of mind than anything. Just let Will know you’re there for him. That’s what he really needs.”

“Okay. I’ll be in tomorrow. And then I’ll be back off to Perth, but I’ll keep in touch.”

“See you tomorrow, Micah.”

When the call disconnected, Micah continued standing in the front yard. Fuck, he didn’t even feel rock bottom. He was miles below rock bottom, swimming in molten lava within the earth’s core, his skin stripped to the bone.

He needed to let off steam. He needed a drink.





Chapter 13


EXCEPT HE didn’t head to Sherlock’s to meet up with the boys, like he had expected. He sent Sam a text saying he was having a quiet night in with the olds and headed straight to the tram to take him into Fitzroy. Destination: the Sircuit on Smith Street.

The last time he’d been in Fitzroy was with Kyle. What an abomination of an outing that had turned out to be. Micah was determined tonight wouldn’t turn out the same. Instead of being nervous about venturing out on his own, he found it liberating. Like the old song, nothing was gonna break his stride.

That being said, he was glad his tram actually took him down Gertrude rather than Brunswick Street so he wouldn’t have to go past the actual parking space where he had run out on Kyle. That would just be a slap in the face he didn’t need right now.

No, what he needed was a distraction. Anything to take his mind off the shiftiness circling him at the moment. Or was it shiftlessness? Anyway, it was something bad that seemed to be sitting in the centre of his chest, a knot that couldn’t be massaged out.

Once he was inside the club he immediately downed a few drinks. With a nice alcoholic buzz going on, he hit the dance floor. He danced with abandon, attracting a fair number of partners. He was friendly, he flirted, he bought drinks, and he accepted drinks. By now his dance moves were less smooth and he tended to stumble more than anything. There were pashes exchanged with a bunch of different guys who all blurred into one another. Micah didn’t care. It felt good to be wanted, to be lusted after, just to be held to the beat of the music.

Until he felt a touch on his arm and looked up to see Kyle.

Hoping it was a hallucination caused by delirium tremens, he shrugged Kyle off and stumbled away, heading for the courtyard where he could get some fresh air and find a dark corner to hide.

But Kyle was right behind him. “Micah, are you okay?”

“Fuck off,” he slurred. “Don’t need your concern.”

“Well, you have it,” Kyle said matter-of-factly. “You’re maggoted.”

“So? I’m just having a bit of fun. What, I guess you think I’m being a slut?”

“Yeah, I’m renowned for slut shaming. Are you here with anyone?”

By now Micah had found his corner and perched upon a small limestone wall that surrounded a few threadbare plants. He was leaning precariously against a shrub that threatened to break under his weight. “What do you care if I’m here with anyone?”

“Because they should be looking after you.”

“I can look after myself.”

“Yeah. You’re doing a great job.” Kyle was shifting in and out of focus before him.

“Are you here with anyone?” Micah asked, dreading the answer. Why had he even asked it?

The three Kyles in front of him all looked uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Did you just do air quotes around ‘boyfriend’?” Kyle asked.

“Did I?” Micah asked, looking at his hands. “I was thinking about doing it, but thought it would be rude. Oh well.”

“Yes, I’m here with Dick.”

“Dick!” Micah snorted. “You’ve got to be shitting me! That’s really his name?”

Kyle didn’t look that happy. “It’s short for Richard. Like your dad.”