The Ultimate Sin (BoyXBoy)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Sneaking into a house is an art, not a skill. If you take one wrong step and a floorboard creaks then you're busted. One locked window and you're fucked.

I pulled up slowly to my house with slight relief as I noticed all the lights were out. I had stayed out way past my designated curfew because of the insane feelings I'd felt for the new boy; anger, hate, and most of all... attraction. I didn't know what kind of attraction it was quite yet, but I knew that the glow in his eyes made the new pull in my chest double in power.

It was unholy.

It was sinful.

I closed my truck door quietly and then made my way around the house to the laundry room window. I had made a habit out of keeping the window unlocked so that I could easily sneak in. Dad probably thought I was in my room studying. He never paid attention to me enough to actually check. Church was his top priority.

I slid the window open and put one foot through. Just as I ducked my head in, a light flashed on. I was so busted.

"Hi Dad," I said lamely as I slid all the way in. I probably smelled like cigarettes and alcohol from the bar, so I knew he was going to be pissed.

"Where were you?" he asked calmly and I blew out the breath I had been holding as I slid in through the window. I looked up at Dad as I sat on the windowsill and cringed. His hazel eyes looked angry and his dark brown hair stood on end as if he had been pacing and running his fingers through it. I saw the same features of mine on his face but his were always stuck in place in such a stoic way that seemed to garner everyone's admiration but mine.

Women all over the town envied my mother for snatching my dad up back in high school. They had been sweethearts, having fell in love during their freshman year and marrying two years after. Everyone said they were a sight to see back then. Dad, the leader of the lacrosse team, while Mom stood on the sideline as the head cheerleader. They were a match made in heaven...

The irony speaks for itself.

"Son, I spoke to you," he said in a more stern voice.

"I was studying at the library, Papa," I said as I stared at his clean church shoes.

"The library closes at nine, Jessie. It is now twelve. Where on earth were you, Jessie Anderson Paeon?" he snapped as his strong arms crossed over his still muscular chest. For forty, my dad was in top shape.

"I was at the lake," I finally admitted. "I needed some air and time to talk to The Lord and I knew my mind wouldn't be clear here with all the distractions around me." Dad didn't look impressed and quite frankly neither was I, so I spiced it up a bit. "I felt the desire to pray for the new boy in town. He has been bullied and I was asking how to handle the situation because I knew I could not do it on my own."

He looked deep into the eyes that I'd inherited from my mother and let out a small smile. "That's my boy. Always problem solving." Dad turned around to leave, much to my joy, with his back as straight as a ruler. I didn't know if my dad thought of himself as a higher being but he treated everyone like they were beneath him and needed guidance. In his mind no one would ever be as loving and caring as him but what he didn't know is that he used those abilities on everyone but his son.

He suddenly stopped and my head snapped up. "Did you find a solution?" he asked.

I froze and cursed myself. "What?"

"Did you find the answer you were searching for?"

Dad turned around again to look at me and rose one bushy eyebrow. My palms sweated as I shuffled through all the worthy replies I could give him. "I- I will take him under my wing because of how popular I am at school," I managed to get out and immediately saw I had said something wrong.

"Don't treat yourself as a god, son-"

"-because there is only one. I know Dad. I was just saying," I spoke over him. We had this conversation more than I cared for, honestly. I walked past him and down the hall to my room.

"I hope you do as you say, son. Lying is a sin and no one likes a sinner," he spoke as I opened my door.

"Yes, Father," I replied and closed my door before sliding down it.

Why couldn't I just have been born into a normal family? Why was I stuck with a dad that did everything by the book. By book, I mean The Bible.

Dad's footsteps faded around the corner as I sat against the door. I wondered how much more I could take of this. It was all becoming too much to handle. Mom was pushing colleges at me, Dad was throwing The Bible at me, and school was hitting me in the gut.

When was I ever going to get a break? When was it my turn to be able to do what I want? When was I going to be able to be like Zane?

Careless and free.