Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father

right. Feeling faint for the first
    time in his life, Kael stumbled to the couch and sat. What had he done—to both of
    them?
    “I know what you do, you know,” his mum went on. “I’ve looked in that spare
    bedroom at your place. I’m not stupid. I know all about the whips and chains and why
    he calls you Daddy. I’ve got a computer. I can use Google. But that was different. You
    hit him because you lost your temper, and that makes you no better than Gary Burke
    and all the other dicks I wasted my time on. That was just mean. Now you tell him
    you’re sorry, Kael.”
    “I’m sorry, Angel,” he said at once, as much to appease his mother’s anger as to
    admit she was right. “Sorry.”
    Dropping to his knees in front of him, Angel said, “It’s okay, Daddy.”
    “It’s not okay, Angel,” Sharon said. “It is never okay for a man to hit you like that.
    The other stuff I don’t understand, but I’ve read enough to know it’s supposed to be”—
    she struggled for the right word—“consensual. But that smack was spousal abuse.
    Wasn’t it, Kael?”
    Unable for a moment to speak, he nodded, grateful that she was there to make
    him see what he had done. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I won’t do it
    again.”
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    Still on his knees, Angel took Kael’s hands. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”
    Breathing as hard as if he had run a mile, Kael gathered Angel into his arms and
    pulled him onto his lap, holding him close to his chest. That was all it took for Angel to
    break down. Full-blown sobs racked his body while Kael hugged him.
    For a few moments, Sharon stood close by, watching before sitting beside them.
    She rubbed Angel’s back. “He did. He thought I knew. He’s been sitting here scared
    stiff waiting for you to come home. That’s not good, son. He shouldn’t be scared of
    you.”
    “I’m so sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry about Shawn and what I did with him. You were
    out working, supporting both of us, and I was having the time of my life with him.
    Going behind your back.”
    “I’ll kill Shawn. I’ll kill that bugger. He did it, didn’t he? That boy was telling the
    truth.”
    “Yes. He admitted it. And he still thought I was going to make the bail application
    for him.”
    “You didn’t, though?”
    “No. I told him to plead guilty or I’d go and tell the police what he did with me.
    But I won’t. I can’t because of my job.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me, Kael?”
    He tried to look at her, but he couldn’t. “Sorry, Mum.”
    “Don’t you say sorry about this. You were a kid. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
    “I was bigger than Shawn even then. I could have said no. I didn’t want to. I
    thought I was in love with him. I knew I was gay when I was twelve, and I wanted a
    man. It was as simple as that. I only thought about myself and what I wanted.”
    “That’s what kids do,” she said. “They want what they want. You were no
    different than any other lad. You were just cleverer and better looking than the scallies
    where we lived. But what Shawn did was wrong. It wasn’t your fault.”
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    165

    Her understanding and generosity of spirit made him ashamed.
    Angel’s sobs had subsided to little shudders. His boy’s face was bright red across
    the right side from the slap. He was probably going to end up with a bruise. The
    thought of sending him back to school on Monday with a bruised face was more than
    he could bear.
    “I just wish you’d told me before it came to this,” Sharon said. “That’s why you
    were upset when you saw him at Christmas, wasn’t it? If he messes with kids, he was
    only coming round here to see what he could get, not for me. Why didn’t you tell me
    then?”
    “I never wanted to tell you. I hoped you’d never find out.”
    “Sorry, Daddy,” Angel whispered.
    “Sweetheart, stop saying sorry. It’s done now. It’s out in the open.”
    “Why didn’t you want me to know?” Sharon asked. “Did you think I’d be angry
    with you instead of Shawn?”
    “I knew you’d be angry with Shawn, but”—his voice dropped to a whisper—“I
    thought you’d hate me.”
    Grabbing his hand and squeezing it more tightly than she ever had, she said,
    “How could I hate you, Kael? I could never hate you. I’m so proud of you. You’re such
    a good son and a good man. Look at what you’ve done with your life, teaching
    languages, interpreting for