Chapter 13

Megan was downright giddy. This was the best date she'd had in months. Sean was cute, had interesting conversation and was a doctor. Awesome. It was so hard to find interesting men to date in Westerville. The Senator really should consider running for Congress in two years. She would love to move to Washington, D.C.

Megan's phone started beeping. She smiled at Sean apologetically.

"I'm really sorry. Normally, I would turn it off but, it's the start of campaign season and our first major event is Saturday so, I really have to take this call."

"Not at all. I completely understand."

Megan smiled. Yes, she just might get married before turning forty.

"Hello? Yes. What? What? What! When? What? Dammit!"

Megan hung up and started typing furiously on her blackberry.

"Is everything okay?"

"No. I'm sorry. I gotta go. I'll call you."

James sipped his bourbon and watched Elaine clean up the kitchen as she chatted about her visit with her sister.

"Honestly, I don't know how Eleanor does it. Seven kids in one house plus a husband and a dog and yet, the place is spotless."

A wave of jealousy rippled through James. Seven kids. Her ugly sister could have seven ugly kids and yet Elaine, the pretty one, could only have one. One good-looking, fucked up, faggot kid. How the hell was that fair? And then, to really stick it to him, the kid inherits whatever strange, evil, voodoo shit was running through his grandfather's veins. Why didn't he inherit that power, or whatever it was? It was wasted on Blaine. If James had that ability, he would be running for President next year. Hell, he would already be in the White House. It was all so damn unfair.

His cell phone beeped. A text message from Megan.

Big problem. Major story hitting tomorrow. Advance draft leaked to me by a friend. Emailing now. Team on their way to your house.

What the hell?

James opened his laptop. After two minutes, Megan's email appeared. He opened the attachment.

ANDERSON FAMILY VALUES by Mark Madison

There was the official, family press photo, a photo of some kid named Kurt Hummel and a photo of James, in front of a podium giving a speech.

Jame's eyes scrolled through the article.

Claims to be champion of family values.

Gay son. Out since age 14.

Prohibited from having other gay friends. Forced to grow up lonely and alone.

Berated by father daily for being gay.

Publicly and privately exposed to constant barrage of disparaging statements about who he was.

Long-term damage suffered by children of homophobic parents – suicide, self-mutilation

Finally, happiness for son. Has gay boyfriend pictured here.

Anderson claims to embrace family values but abuses child.

Does Anderson's family values match those of his constituents?

Is this who we want representing Central Ohio in the state senate? A child abuser?

"James? James, what's wrong? James?"

James had turned a dark, beet-red color. His hands, clinched into two tight fists.

He started towards the stairs.

Blaine was sound asleep. He was exhausted from a major make out session with Kurt. They couldn't get enough of each other. Now that they were close to going all the way, their making out had taken on a feverish pace. The kisses were hotter, the blow jobs deeper and faster and the orgasms hard and intense. Blaine was barely holding on to control. Kurt was ready for him. So hot and ready and practically begging. That shit turned Blaine on bad. Really bad. It would all go down next weekend. Everything was arranged. Next weekend, Blaine would take full and complete ownership of his Kurt. He would possess him fully. And then Blaine would be complete.

It is because Blaine was asleep, that his father was able to have the upper hand.

James stormed into Blaine's room, pulled Blaine out of bed by his shirt and threw him across the room. Blaine slammed into the wall, waking up disoriented, confused and in pain. James pulled him to his knees and punched him, sending him falling to the floor. And then he started kicking him.

"You fucking faggot! You no good, worthless son-of-a-bitch! I told you to keep it in your pants! I told you, you little fucker!"

Blaine's head was spinning. Was he dreaming? Was he 14 again? No. This was worse. This was different. The darkness was floating around inside him, mixed in with the pain. The pain was keeping him from latching on to the darkness but, it was churning and growing and he was starting to feel hot. He could hear his mother's voice.

"James! Oh my God! Are you crazy? Stop! Stop! Leave him alone!"

James whirled around, his eyes wild with rage.

"You!" he sneered. "This is all your fault. You and your fucked up body! I should have ten kids! What do you give me? One! And you couldn't even get him right!"

Elaine cowered under her husband's words, backing up against the wall. All color drained from her face.

"You're nothing but a pretty, worthless, bitch! I should have screwed your sister instead!"

Elaine slapped him.

Blaine attacked.

He lunged at his father, knocking him to the floor. They rolled over and over, each one fighting to dominate the other. James managed to throw Blaine off and jump to his feet.

"Why you little fucker! What are you going to do? Kill me?"

Blaine's eyes were coal black. His skin was hot and he wasn't fighting to keep control anymore. He allowed the darkness to overtake him.

"Yes."

His punch landed squarely on his father's jaw, the force causing his entire body to spin around. Blaine hit him again, knocking him to the floor. He then hurled himself on top of him, straddled his body and placed his hands firmly around his father's neck.

James tried to reach up and grab Blaine's hands or push against his face but his son's skin was hot. Too hot to touch. James couldn't breathe. He was losing consciousness.

Elaine pleaded with her son.

"Blaine! Blaine! Please! Blaine! Let him go! Blaine, let him go! Please! Honey, listen to me! Let go, Blaine! Let go!"

But, Blaine wasn't listening. He could feel his father's life leaving his body.

Phil burst into the room. He kicked Blaine in the head, knocking him out. Phil grabbed him and dragged him across the room, leaving him dumped in the corner. James was wheezing and coughing, trying to get air into his lungs. Elaine sat on the floor crying. Phil lounged against the door. After several minutes, he spoke.

"James, you'd better get cleaned up. Everyone will be here in a few minutes to discuss damage control."

He turned and walked out.

Elaine helped James rise to his feet. Neither of them looked at their son, collapsed in the corner, scarcely breathing.

They turned and walked out, closing the door behind them.