Skurdulka's House (a LGBTQ chosen-family thriller)

Part 22: Threat

"Open up!"

That sharp, booming voice was unmistakable. Storm's eyes darted to Ari and Willow.

"Who is that?" Willow said quietly.

Storm swallowed hard. "It's my dad."

Ari and Willow both glanced at him, searching his face, then looked at each other. In his periphery, Storm saw Lee and Chris's eyes were wide.

"I know he's there!" the voice came again, with three bangs shaking the door.

Ari raised a pacifying hand, looking over all of them, their gaze steady. "It's all right. It's all right." Ari looked at Storm. "Storm," their gaze shifted towards the kitchen, "stay out of sight. I'll take care of this."

Storm took in a breath and held it. "You're not gonna..."

Ari shook their head, holding their gaze. "No."

As Storm stood up, sneaking behind the wall of the kitchen, Ari and Willow proceeded to the door. Before they both reached it, Chris and Lee hurried to the kitchen. Lee stood next to Storm, clutching his arm, and Chris crouched in front of him, peeking around the edge of the wall, but not blocking his view. Storm had to admit, he felt better with the two of them close by.

Before Ari opened the door, Willow at their side, Ari cast a quick glance towards the kitchen. Nodding once at Storm, they opened the door.

"Good evening." Ari's smooth voice carried across the foyer. Storm couldn't see the figure on the other side. "Can I help you?"

A pause cut the space. Storm couldn't breathe.

"I know he's 'ere."

Storm knew immediately his dad was into the bottle—the only question was the depth. "He's drunk," he whispered.

"It's gonna be okay," Lee whispered back. Her grip on his arm tightened.

"I don't know who you are," Ari continued "or what you're doing at my house, but it's much too late—"

"You have my son."

Another pause.

Storm watched Ari's back straighten.

"I don't even know who you are," Ari replied. Their voice got slower, deeper. "But I don't appreciate late visitors. I want you to leave. Now."

"I'm not leaving without my kid, you fucking freak."

"This is private property," Willow cut in, her voice calm and commanding, "if you have some sort of problem, you'll have to come back in the morning. Then we'd be happy to talk."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Willow Clayton. What's your name?"

"Keith. Vandersen. My son is Storm Vandersen."

Storm bit his lip. He sounded deceptively calm. He often did. Before his mood changed again.

"He ran away. And I know he came here," Keith went on.

Ari shook their head. "I'm sorry to hear that. I am. But I don't know that name."

"Bullshit. I know he came here. And I'm not leaving without him."

The moment drew out between them.

Storm tried to take a step, but Chris planted a flat hand in his chest. "Don't even think about it."