“Where’s Noah?” I demanded.
“I brought him home with me. Don’t be mad.”
“You bring him back,” I said. “I ain’t playing. You had no right.”
“Wiley, listen to me.”
“No, you listen to me. You bring him back!”
“I’m not taking him back, Wiley. He’ll be right here and he’ll be fine. Billy wants to talk to you—”
“I am not going to listen any of your Baptist bullshit! You bring my son back!”
“Wiley, I know you’re upset.”
“I’m a little bit more than upset!”
“I know you are. Let me help you.”
“I don’t need your goddamn help! I want you to bring my son back and stop fucking with me.”
“Billy wants to—”
“I don’t give a fuck. You hear me? I don’t give a flying fuck what Billy wants, what you want, what anybody else in this goddamn world wants! Iwant my son back!”
“I’m just thinking about Noah’s best interests. You can’t keep him—”
“You think you can do this kind of shit to me because I’m gay? Is that it?”