A Thin Line Between Love & Hate (Love Conquers All series) ORIGINAL VERSION

Prologue: "Hate in Action"

God hates fags.

The "fag" in question; Sergeant Tom Clayton. Decorated war hero. Devoted father of five-year-old Oliver "Olly" Clayton and loving husband of Marshall Bentley-Clayton. Killed in the line of duty.

The American flag draped over Sergeant Clayton's casket was strategically folded with care by two uniformed officers who then faced the Sergeant's family. The officer holding the flag sank down to one knee before little Olly and spoke to him quietly – surely telling the boy what a brave and honorable man his father Tom had been – then placed the folded flag in the small child's arms. Until that moment, the boy had stood unmoving and silent beside Marshall, clutching the man's hand, just staring blankly at the casket in which one of his parents lay dead. Gone forever.

As soon as the officer handed the flag to the boy, Olly hugged it to his chest and ducked his head, finally crying. Marshall dropped to his knees as if his strength had suddenly abandoned him, and pulled his son into his arms, crying with him. Had there been a dry eye among the mourners – there was no more.

Fourteen-year-old Josh Waylon watched the heartbreaking scene from a few hundred yards away, his throat closing, eyes watering. He raised the sign clutched in his hands, high enough to hide his face, shield his forming tears from those all around him. No one noticed when a stray sob caught in his throat, choking him. They weren't looking at him, weren't paying attention to him, and their shouts drowned out his shuddered breaths.

Josh closed his eyes – squeezed them tight – and resisted the need to throw down the sign and clamp his hands over his ears. He was wedged between his two older brothers – Uriah and Elijah – both easily a head taller than him and built much more solid.

"The faggot is burning in hell right now!" Uriah yelled at the top of his lungs, the cords in his neck straining, hate twisting what could have been a handsome face. He pumped his 'God Hates Fags' sign in the air.

"He deserved to die!" Elijah shouted. "God killed him!"

Josh ducked his head, his hands tightening around the wooden stick supporting his own hateful sign. He was required to participate and if his dad noticed he wasn't, or saw even a glimmer of tears, he would have hell to pay when they returned home.

His legs shaking, nausea spinning his guts into knots, Josh stepped forward, the soles of his shoes leaving the thick, freshly mown grass and scraping against the gravel of the road leading into the cemetery. He lowered his sign a little, the scene around the open grave coming into view once more. A hand suddenly clamped his shoulder and he jumped then glanced into the face of Uriah as the guy leaned down, a cold grin on his face. "Go for the boy," he said, nodding toward the dead Sergeant's son. "He needs to learn right now what God thinks of fags." His grip tightened and he shoved Josh forward a bit, then nodded and smirked when Josh cast him a backward glance. 'You got this' he mouthed.

Josh swallowed thickly and looked across the way to the small child still clutching the flag and crying for his fallen father.

"God..." Josh choked on the word and began to shake. You have to do it. You have to say it. He took another step forward and hoped he was far enough out front that none of the group could see the tears welling thicker and his face crumpling as he screamed, "God hates your faggot daddy, little boy! He killed your daddy! He's going to kill your other daddy, too!" Josh was crying, fighting desperately to camouflage his own horror by screaming louder. "God hates fags!"

For one brief, soul-wrenching second – the little boy turned and looked at him, his innocent, soft face streaked with tears. Marshall Clayton quickly turned his son back to him and slowly curled one arm tenderly around the boy's head, covering his ears, as he held him close to protect him from the hate surging across the expansive lawn in powerful waves.

Josh's shouts died the instant the boy looked at him, his shakes intensifying.

Your daddies aren't the ones going to hell, little boy...we are.