Obedience Lessons

Chapter Fifty-two

Andy's POV

He didn't want to talk to me. I hadn't realised just how hurt and betrayed he must have felt by my lies to have cut me off this way. I thought he'd forgive me once it all worked out. Looking back, I could now see how naïve it was to have believed it would be so simple. I'd played a game with him although he'd trusted me. For Dylan, this was an act that made me resemble his father. Something intentionally manipulative and to be feared and hated.

I knew that he hated his father. Does that mean that he hates me now? Now with his father dead, did he project all that hatred onto me?

I couldn't focus on any of my classes again. And once again it was because of Dylan. As a result I'd missed all the examination tips from tutors and even blanked out during Dr. Zeppelin's class. Screw it. I could probably teach the psychology class by now anyway. Dr. Zeppelin paid me no mind, letting me space out. Which led me to believe he knew exactly something was wrong.

Why had I even come to classes today? I couldn't remember anything from the day. Right. It had beat staying home to stare out the window, or to remember all the different places I'd grown used to seeing Dylan.

"A moment please, Mr. Burrie, "Dr. Zeppelin stopped me when I started to rush out with everyone else when the class was over. I stopped, watching him cautiously as he put up papers into his briefcase. "I heard your name in the news, about that whole mess with the Rymans?" His questioning tone lead me into an automatic response.

It was just fucking great hearing my name was mentioned in the news. Now the mafia wherever they were could find me and do me in. Perfect.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter anymore." It's couldn't matter anymore, since the person I'd try to do it all for didn't even want to see me or talk to me. I didn't even manage to pull it off. All I'd really done was stir the pot of crazy and fail in the final lap. I could've gotten him killed.

When I'd heard the gunshot from within the house I'd lost every fraction of my mind. I remembered fearing the worst, shoving past my friends and stretching, reaching with every cell in my body towards the house. Then I was tackled to the ground by Romeo and Nick who talked sense into me. We'd even managed to come up with an impromptu plan when the feds came in and rushed inside without sparing us a second glance.

"Why wouldn't it matter?" His calm questioning told me he was still working his mind tricks on me.

I sighed, giving in. "I know, I know. I don't mean that. It's just that I may have ruined my relationship in this whole mess."

"And how did you manage that?"

"I lied to him," I said, consciously throwing in the male pronoun and watching Zeppelin for a reaction. The man seemed almost pleased with my admission.

"Lies destroyed your relationship? Then I guess you already know how to build it back up again." He said it like it was obvious. Truth. As if it could be that simple.

"It's not so simple-"

"Why on earth shouldn't it be so simple?" His tone became somewhat exasperated. "Humans are the same everywhere. Overcomplicating things when solutions are often right in front of them. Do you love this man?"

"Yes." Because there was no other answer.

"Then as the truth, that will be enough for now. Tell him. Let him know you're ready to talk whenever he is. He'll come around." Then Dr. Zeppelin winked and leaned in, lowering his voice even more. "He's a hottie."

I laughed, shaking my head. The few people left in the room looked at me like I'd lost my mind but I didn't care. "I know. Thanks Dr. Zeppelin. How much for the mini session?"

"You ace my exams and it's on the house, kiddo," He replied jovially.

I shot him thumbs up, "Will do."

Over the next few days I obsessively checked my phone for a response from Dylan. I had sent a message to find out if he was fine, but afterwards only let him know that I was here if he needed to talk. So far, I guess he was managing without me.

But Dr. Zeppelin was right. He needed his space right now. He looked pretty shaken up about the whole thing. It was probably best for him to think things through on his own. All I had to be now was patient.

So I waited. And waited. Spent Thanksgiving back in Maine where mom peppered me for details about my love life. When I tell her everything that happened her pupils grew until they could have separated from her eyes altogether.

She smacked me behind the head. "Andrew Killian Burrie, you could have been killed! Did you ever think? Did you think of the pain you'd have caused me if I'd found out that you'd been killed and stuffed into a box? I forbid you to try something like this ever again on pain of death!"

"Pain of death? So if I die, you'll... kill me?"

"Never again," She insisted, ignoring my irony.

"Sure mom," I agreed, "If I ever meet another mafia boss who killed one son and controlled the other, I'll be sure to leave him alone."

She glowered over the table then finished lamely, "You'd better." Then she sat down again. "Smartass."

Dad and his new lover came over not too much longer afterwards and I realised that mom must have invited them over for thanksgiving. I watched her like a hawk to see if she'd spike the food but she stayed on her best behaviour through it all while Anthony over-accommodated, complimenting everything from the carpets to my mom's horrible baked beans - the one dish she hadn't perfected, but yet insisted on making every year.

When I checked my phone at the dinner table dad shot me a glare and I excuse myself, feeling the thrill running through me. It has to be him. It just has to.

The message was plain and to the point. 'My father's burial is tomorrow. It's only me and Louisa.'

I dialed his number while on the porch looking around at my neighbours' houses. Every light was on and laughter came from several homes. It was just how I remembered everything.

His voice came groggy and perfect after not hearing it for ten days. "Hello?"

"I'm coming back in the morning," I said in lieu of a greeting then realised how I must have sounded, just blurting it out like that. "Were you asleep?"

"Yeah. Lou invited me over for Thanksgiving at her place with her partner. I kinda fell asleep on the couch when I got in." He sounded tired. I knew that couch sleep feeling, and empathized.

"You shouldn't be alone."

"I think I did need to be alone. Clear my head. Catch my breath again," his tone was casual but I heard all the implications behind it. It sounded like something someone would say to justify a breakup.

"I'm glad you had time then," I replied. "I'm on an early flight so I'll be there tomorrow."

"It's just a simple burial. I didn't want a funeral because of the press and the people and..." He trailed off, but I understood. He didn't like his father anyway. And it was more than the bastard deserved.

"Yeah. I get it. Should I bring champagne?" He finally laughed and the sound was relieving to hear. I wanted to make him laugh everyday if he'd let me. I didn't like it when he was sad.

"See you tomorrow." He hung up.

After that, I wanted to get to the airport tonight and hop on the very next flight. Wait right there Dylan, you're not getting away from me that easy.