Call Me Gideon

By Remmy Duchene

Gideon Eric Bishop lost everything when he came out—his family, his fortune and his best friend. Over the years, he’s shoved himself back into the closet. Going by his middle name, he’s successfully remained celibate, kept to himself, and life has taken on some semblance of normalcy. Then he gets a phone call from his mother, begging him to come home as his father is gravely ill, but Gideon cannot figure out why his presence would matter. Still, like a dutiful son, he returns to the fold and walks head first into Kellan O’Brien.

For as long as Dr. Kellan O’Brien has known what love was, he’s been in it with Gideon. Kellan felt things for the then eighteen-year-old he was pretty sure would send him to hell. But Kellan was too old, and Gideon wasn’t gay.

When Gideon vanished one night, Kellan’s heart broke, and he tried to move on as best he could. But then Kellan’s fiancé dies in a horrible accident, and Gideon returns to Byers Pass, and it all seems to be coming full circle.

But Gideon has put himself so far and so deep back into the closet, Kellan is positive not even love can reach him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Mar 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781773392264

Remmy Duchene

Born on the island of Jamaica, Remmy Duchene began writing at a very young age. She now lives in Canada where she spends most of her time free time, when not writing or working the EDJ, with family, taking pictures, looking for the next sin-spiration and trying desperately to cook the next great dish.

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Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2017 Remmy Duchene

ISBN: 978-1-77339-226-4

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

For Titi and So—Rays of light and my biggest fans.

CALL ME GIDEON

Remmy Duchene

Copyright © 2017

Chapter One

Swoosh!

Thunk!

Eric Bishop frowned and slammed his foot on the brake just as another car swerved dangerously in front of his. He leaned on his horn. What he really wanted to do was tell the douche a couple choice words he would have had to make up to voice his frustration. But since the dipshit wouldn’t have heard him, the horn would have to suffice.

There was nothing worse than driving in New York—wait, winter driving in New York was pretty bad—it didn’t matter. Driving in New York was a major pain in the ass no matter the time of the year.

Traffic slowed then stopped. Eric took a deep breath, but that did nothing to quell the rising tide of irritation that tickled along his spine only to vibrate in exhaustion at his lower back. He could turn on the radio, but the traffic updates would make him seriously dive head first into road rage. Fortunately, he was heading home from a shoot so there wasn’t any real rush.

Still about half an hour from his house on the Upper East Side, his cell phone rang. Before he had a chance to glance down, the Bluetooth in the dash picked it up.

Call from-Mother. Say answer-or-decline.

Eric rolled his eyes to the ceiling of the car and groaned.

When it rains it pours.

Though he toyed with idea of declining the call, he knew himself very well, and the moment the call was sent to voicemail, he’d instantly feel horrible. Forget the fact his mother hadn’t so much as emailed him for the past twelve years. He would still have immense guilt for not picking up when she reached out. Even after the hell his parents put him through all those years ago years ago, he still worried about them, still loved them.

What the hell kind of idiot did that make him?

They obviously had no issues with deleting him from their lives like he didn’t exist. Yet for some strange reason, he kept their contacts programmed into his phone, and he’d insisted on keeping the same number for himself ever since he left Byers Pass for New York.

Answer, Eric said.

Who was he kidding? He’d shoved himself back into the closet and run away to save what was left of his sanity and his soul. At this point, he couldn’t very well dig through the logic of anything after that.

Gideon? His mother’s voice was softer than he’d ever heard it.

He cringed. No one had called him that in twelve years. He’d insisted on it.

Gideon? It’s your mother. Are you there?

Yes, Mom. I’m here, he said. Who’s dying?

That’s not funny.

It wasn’t meant to be. He allowed the car to roll forward before easing to a stop behind a dirty Lexus. "That’s the only reason you’d be calling me. Twelve years ago you told me you weren’t my mother, and now you have the nerve to say it’s your mother like that’s supposed to mean something to me."

She went silent. It seemed for the first time in recorded history, Dahlia Bishop was at a loss for words. That annoyed Eric to no end.

Mom, I’m stuck in rush hour traffic right now. Eric had no patience for this. Tell me what you call to tell me so I can be on my way.

Um—your father…

Again with the parent thing!

Gideon, could you—

Don’t call me that! Eric snapped.

He’s sick. Dahlia ignored his outburst. The doctors say he doesn’t have much time left.

What he needs now is a miracle. And the last time I checked, I wasn’t a miracle worker. So why call me?

Because no matter what you believe, he’s still your father.

Now? Eric asked. I’m almost thirty years old. I’m not in need of a father. I needed my father twelve years ago when I told you… Eric bit his lower lip. It was in an effort to not completely lose it. You both made it quite clear that I’m no longer a part of your family. So what do you want from me?

Come home. Make your peace.

Make my peace? I didn’t do anything wrong, but you guys expelled me like a piece of garbage and now you want me to—to what? Apologize for you guys breaking me?

That’s not what I’m saying Gi—that’s not what I’m saying. If your father dies before you’ve had a chance to work things out, you’ll regret it.

Does he know you’re calling me?

Dahlia said nothing. Her silence answered the question for him, and Eric shook his head. I’m not coming home, Mom. My home is here, in New York. You guys made that decision for me.

He reached forward and disconnected the call as the traffic began moving a little more freely. Though his mood about the traffic had improved, he still felt like the world had suddenly ended after speaking with Dahlia. The nerve of her thinking he’d care. The things Francis Bishop said to him the day Eric told them he was gay were unimaginable.

"We should have had an abortion."

Eric cringed. The voice was still so loud inside his head, it was almost as if the sound bounced around on his brain then crashed into his skull. That was the line that had ripped his heart form his chest and run it over with a Mack truck. It wasn’t the I hate you, or the I have no son. The fact his father wished he was never born just about killed Eric.

By the time he reached home, Eric was physically and emotional exhausted. His stomach growled at him so he wandered into the kitchen—ignoring the flashing light on the voicemail—and pulled out a box of pizza. There were only about three slices left, so he stuck those into the oven. There was no worse taste than leftover pizza nuked in the microwave.

While he waited, he grabbed a beer, walked into the den of his condo and tossed his body into the overstuffed leather chair behind his desk. His mind drifted back to the conversation he had with his mother. A part of him felt horrible for talking to her like had, but what was he supposed to do? Sugar-coating what he thought was out of the question at this junction in his life. And he was still angry as hell. How could he possibly forgive them for what they’d done and how could he walk back into that town knowing no one wanted him there?

He lost everything that night. When the shit hit the fan he’d run to the only place he knew he could be sheltered from any storm. But, Andre wanted nothing to do with him. Andre was more worried Eric wanted a piece of his ass than anything else. That had to be the worse hurt of all—a guy Eric had no sexual feelings for, one he thought would have his back, thought would help him.

Andre didn’t even open the door.

He yelled his insults and threats through the sterile oak of the front door. When the shock wore off enough, Eric stumbled down the front porch and into the darkness.

No, Byers Pass held nothing for him but shame. Despite all that pain, Eric learned one very important lesson—parents didn’t love unconditionally. It was all a myth.

The oven timer went off, and Eric reluctantly made his way back into the kitchen. He used a tong to snag the slices and dropped them on a plate before turning the oven off. With a second bottle of beer and his pizza, he made his way back into his office. While he ate, he went through his calendar to see how many shoots he had in the upcoming weeks. Luckily, he only had one. He grabbed his cell, took a long drink from his beer and leaned back into his seat while waiting for Astrid to pick up.

Yello! she cheered.

Astrid, hey.

’Ello, boss o’mine. How are you, my lovely?

He had to chuckle. I’ve been better. Listen, I’m going to need your help for about three weeks.

Oh?

I’m going to Byers Pass for a while, he explained. And I have the Mathason shoot. I need you to work your magic and get them to move it there.

Okay. I’ll just tell them you had a family emergency and it’s either move it or cancel.

Remember what I said about catching more flies with honey than vinegar?

Astrid sighed. "Okay. I’ll ask nicely then whip out the big guns. Pew! Pew!"

I guess I can live with that. Eric laughed. And I’m going to need you to find us a nice place and rent it for a month.

Don’t your parents live in Byers Pass?

Eric groaned. I don’t want to stay at my parents’ place. Do this for me?

Okay. Something on the lake good?

He could already hear her typing away at her keyboard.

Yeah. I’m going to need the view. And we need a rental car. Eric sighed.

On it.

Don’t worry about getting equipment together. I’ll do that tomorrow first thing. Just get us a flight out for Monday morning.

Divide and conquer?

Eric laughed. Divide and conquer.

With their plans set, he hung up and went back to his computer. He ordered a whole series from one of Astrid’s favorite romance authors and had it overnighted to his house. He knew she’d wanted to read the series, but they’d been so busy over the past six months, she hadn’t even gotten around to buying them. He figured this would give her something to do while they weren’t working since Byers Pass was a black hole of ennui.

With her surprise on its way, Eric finished eating, downed both beers and headed up the stairs to pack. That was the least of all the things he had to do before he could take off at Dahlia’s bidding.

The night was spent moving things around in his schedule and in his head. Though he didn’t have any shoots, he had a couple of speaking engagements that he had to cancel as those wouldn’t happen, depending on how severe his father’s illness was. Perhaps Dahlia had been overreacting again just to make him feel guilty.

First thing the next morning, Eric hit the gym, then picked Astrid up so they could talk over breakfast about what was going to happen in the next few weeks. As they slid into a private booth at their favorite restaurant, Eric felt like death.

Did you get any sleep last night?

Eric sipped from his coffee while meeting her brown gaze. Nope.

What’s going on, Eric? You’ve refused to go home for years. Why now?

Got a call from my mother. She said that my father is ill and doesn’t have much time left.

Dang. Astrid sighed. That’s rough.

Tell me about it.

Did she say what was wrong with him?