Chapter 13: Lessons in Consequences
The night had given way to early morning as Wicked, Isabel, and their mother, Lydia, left the forge. The streets were still quiet, with only the faintest light creeping over the horizon. As they neared the house, Wicked couldn't shake the unease lingering from their conversation at the forge. But it wasn't just the weight of Junior's confessions that hung heavy in the air—there was something else.
Lydia paused as they reached the front steps, her gaze flicking between her children. "Your father's home," she said, her voice calm but with an edge of tension. "We need to talk."
Wicked exchanged a glance with Isabel, who simply nodded, the fatigue of the night's events reflected in her eyes. Together, they followed their mother into the house.
Inside, the familiar warmth of their home did little to ease the tension in the room. Duncan sat at the table, his expression tight, his hands clenched into fists. He looked up as they entered, his eyes narrowing at Wicked before he stood abruptly.
"This mess with Tijuana," Duncan began, his voice sharp. "It's gone too far. Do you know how many people have been lining up outside her house, Wicked? Men and women?"
Wicked tensed, already knowing where this was going. He'd noticed the line outside T's house. The whispers. But hearing it from his father's mouth made it hit harder.
"They're kids figuring out who they are, Duncan," Lydia interjected gently, coming to stand between them. Her voice was soft, but there was a firmness to it that calmed the air. "It's serious, yes, but they're young. They're bound to make mistakes."
"Mistakes?" Duncan shot back, his frustration clear. "This isn't just some mistake. The whole village is talking, and we've got rumors flying around that people need to get tested for diseases."
Lydia sighed, her hand resting on Duncan's arm, trying to ease his anger. "And they're doing just that. Everyone's already getting tested. But jumping to the worst conclusions isn't going to help anything."
Wicked stayed quiet, feeling the weight of his father's words. He knew his father's anger wasn't just about the rumors. It was about the potential consequences. The dangers. He'd been with T, and he hadn't given much thought to the possibility of something as serious as a disease.
"I just don't want to see you dragged into something you don't understand," Duncan said, his voice softening a bit but still filled with frustration. "You need to take this seriously, Wicked."
"I do," Wicked said quietly, meeting his father's gaze. "I'm taking it seriously. I just didn't realize how bad things had gotten."
Lydia moved closer to Wicked, her expression gentle. "I spoke to T's mother," she said softly. "She's disappointed, yes, but more than that, she's worried. She took T away from her father's harem life because she didn't want her falling into those same patterns. But T's figuring things out, just like the rest of you."
Wicked nodded, understanding more clearly now. T's mother wasn't angry at her daughter—she was heartbroken. She didn't want T to live in the same chaotic lifestyle that her father had, but T was struggling to find her way.
"She's a grown woman now," Lydia continued, "but growing up doesn't mean you won't make mistakes. Tijuana's going through her own journey, and so are you. But these choices have consequences."
Duncan folded his arms, his frustration still evident, but he didn't argue with Lydia. Instead, he looked back at Wicked, his voice lower now. "This isn't just about you and T, Wicked. This affects the whole village. You need to be smarter."
Wicked swallowed, guilt gnawing at him. He'd gotten so wrapped up in his relationship with T that he hadn't thought about the bigger picture. The whispers, the rumors—it all felt too far away, like something that wouldn't touch him. But it had.
"They're getting tested," Lydia said, bringing some calm back into the conversation. "And once the results come back clean, this will blow over. But this is a lesson, Wicked. You need to think about what kind of life you want, and who you want to share it with."
Wicked nodded, grateful that his mother wasn't as angry as his father. But her words hit home. She was right. This was a wake-up call. He couldn't just walk through life without considering the consequences.
A few moments passed in silence before Isabel finally spoke up, her voice quiet. "What about… you know… pregnancy?"
The question hung in the air, and Wicked felt his face flush with embarrassment. He hadn't thought about that either. Diseases were one thing, but the possibility of someone getting pregnant… that was a whole new level of responsibility.
Lydia sighed, rubbing her temples. "It's something you need to be aware of," she said softly. "If you're going to live a life where multiple relationships are involved, you have to be prepared for everything that comes with it."
Wicked's mind spun. He had considered the idea of a harem before, in theory. But now? Now, it felt too real. He hadn't thought about the logistics—the risks, the responsibilities. The emotional toll it could take.
"I don't think…" Wicked started, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words. "I don't think I'm ready for that. For any of it."
Lydia smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's okay, Wicked. You're still figuring things out. You don't have to have all the answers right now."
Duncan, though still visibly upset, gave a small nod of agreement. "Just don't let yourself get swept up in something you can't handle. Be smart about it."
Wicked nodded, his mind still racing. He thought back to his conversations with T, about harems, about what they meant. But now, with everything that had happened, he wasn't sure if that was the life he wanted.
"I think I need to talk to T," Wicked said quietly, glancing between his parents. "I need to clear my head."
Lydia gave him a soft smile, understanding in her eyes. "That's a good idea. But take your time, Wicked. You don't need to rush into anything."
As Wicked stood to leave, Duncan finally let out a long breath, his frustration ebbing away. "Just… be careful, son."
"I will," Wicked promised, heading for the door. He had a lot to think about, and even more to figure out.