Page 11 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

“Your father called,”

Edith said.

Connor had a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway to his mouth. Laurence dug in, and Nick picked at his food while he looked at his phone. Trevor sat down with his plate of bacon and eggs.

Connor acknowledged the sharp edge in his mom’s eyes. He’d been made.

“Oh, yeah?”

Connor asked. “You two striking up the old flame again?”

Dark anger filled her eyes. Trevor raised an eyebrow at Connor but didn’t seem perturbed. He’d proved himself to be annoyingly immune to Connor’s jabs, but Edith had no such armour. She held every word from his mouth close to her heart, perhaps as a reminder of how he was a child of abhorrent evil. He sometimes wondered did she think him a literal devil.

“He wanted to know where his Jeep disappeared to?”

“It’s outside,”

Connor said.

“And when I asked, ‘is it not at the house with the two of you?’ since you said you were spending the night at his, he had no idea what I was talking about.”

Her grey eyes were storming.

Connor took a bite of his eggs as the rest of them looked up in trepidation. Laurence’s eyes were wide, his face a wash of discomfort. Nick flicked his gaze between them like he’d expected nothing less than a bloodbath for breakfast. Trevor’s expression lost its ease, but rather than Connor, his discomfort was directed toward Edith. Connor saw Trevor’s body slowly tense as he studied her.

“I said I was spending the night at Dad’s, not that he’d be there with me,”

Connor said casually. He knew this game. He knew that keeping calm and answering in a normal voice was eons better than a sharp, defensive reply. She would declare him guilty by his tone alone. Although, did it really matter, given that she would declare him guilty either way?

“Where were you last night?”

she demanded, voice curt. “Drinking? Out and—”

“Was I drunk when I got back?”

Connor asked Trevor, interrupting her outrage right in the middle.

Trevor’s features tensed. He spared a glance toward Connor before placing his hand over Ediths’. “He wasn’t drunk,”

Trevor told her calmly.

“Your boys don’t lie to you, Trevor.”

Edith snapped. Connor flinched in surprise. She must be furious that Trevor sided with Connor, because her mask slipped off. A face he had always thought was for him alone pointed toward Trevor. “But Connor’s not one of your boys.”

“Not part of the family, am I?”

Connor cut in quickly. His grin was sharp. Bladed. But he couldn’t help himself. He hurt because she was right. He had lied to Trevor. She’d hurt him. And she hadn’t managed that in almost two years. But more than that, a thousand times fiercer than that sting, he hated that she was directing that look at Trevor. Trevor didn’t deserve it.

Connor wished he’d just been honest. He hadn’t done anything too bad, after all, just gone out on the water for the evening. With three notorious drunks and troublemakers… no, actually. The lie was the right thing to do. They wouldn’t understand that he’d just wanted to be out on the ocean again after so long. That he was desperate, and he had no other options. That he wanted to be somewhere safe for just a little while.

“If you would just behave for once in your life—”

“Edith,”

Trevor interrupted, the upset in his voice unmistakable. The anger in her gaze as she whirled on Trevor was just as clear. Trevor met that anger head-on. “There was an issue of communication. Connor’s phone isn’t usable at the moment, and that’s not his fault. And—”

“That is far from what the issue is.”

Connor’s heart raced. As much as he liked not being on the receiving end of his mom’s ire, somehow this was worse. And catching a glimpse of Laurence’s white face, he saw he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“Dad called looking for the equipment in the Jeep, did he?”

Connor stood up from the table. “I’ll drive it over to him.”

Connor was halfway to the car when the stones behind him crunched. He glanced over his shoulder to see Trevor approaching him with a wrinkled brow and downturned lips. He stopped and braced, ready for whatever lecture would come his way.

“I’m sorry about that, Connor,”

Trevor said. “Regardless of where you were last night, what she said wasn’t kind or true. Suggesting that you’re a bad kid and not part of the family was uncalled for.”

Connor hesitated, noting the concern and worry in Trevor’s expression. Trevor was genuinely upset by what Edith had said. Connor’s guilt for the lie intensified.

“That was by far one of the mildest arguments I’ve had with my mom,”

Connor said. Though he was both confused and grateful for Trevor’s concern, it didn’t come out in his voice; only the nonchalant, bored tone of a rotten teenager used to getting into trouble did. “Try to apologise for all of them, and you’ll get bored fairly fast.”

Trevor’s lips tugged even further down until it was more grimace than concern in his expression. “You always fight like this with each other?”

“You’re the strange one, Trevor,”

Connor said. “You like your kids.”

Trevor took in a sharp breath like he’d been struck.

Connor had grown up with kids at boarding school, all packed miles and miles away from family where they could be forgotten for the majority of the year. Most kids barely even got a card on their birthday, and Connor was one of them. It wasn’t a strange or new concept to him for a parent to not like their child. His friends were all the same as him.

But Trevor looked at him like it was the most horrifying thing he’d ever been told, making Connor feel like something was wrong with his situation. A dulled, squashed voice whispered to him from inside, it is wrong.

“I’ll see you later.”

Connor turned from Trevor before any hint of emotion showed on his face.

But even as he got into the Jeep, Trevor was at the window.

Connor rolled it down. “What?”

“It’s a Saturday,”

Trevor pointed out. His brow was drawn in tight. “You don’t have to stay today. Do you want me to follow and drive you home afterwards?”

Connor’s gut reaction was no. He didn’t want to come back here or spend time with Trevor, who he sensed would pry more. But at the same time, he was well sick of the lab. Without the merman visiting anymore, he was bored.

He opened his mouth to lie. Say that he’d spend the day in the lab with his dad, but he hesitated as he thought of his mom’s accusation. That he was a bad child. That he was a liar. That he was different from Laurence and Nick and always would be.

“I’ll walk into the village after dropping the Jeep back. Maybe get breakfast somewhere,”

Connor said.

“Do you need any money?”

“I’ll get some from Ben,”

Connor said. So Trevor wasn’t going to go on about supervising him this weekend.

“Okay…can you wait here a moment?”

“Alright.”

Trevor went back into the house. A few moments later, he returned. He offered Connor a phone with a twenty-note tucked inside the transparent phone case.

“Laurence said you can borrow this. It’s unlocked, and my number is under ‘Dad,’”

Trevor explained. “You can call when you want a ride home.”

Connor took the phone. “Laurence isn’t scared of me snooping?”

he asked wryly.

“It will get you nowhere,”

Trevor said with a small smile. “His texts are barely in English they’re so abbreviated.”

“And he doesn’t mind not having his phone for the day?”

“He doesn’t.”

Connor tucked the mobile into his pocket. “I won’t be too long, then.”

“Take as long as you want.”

*

If his dad was going to scold Connor for taking the Jeep, which he very much doubted, Connor didn’t stick around to find out. He dropped it off at the lab and walked into the village. It was a good hour on the road, and Connor had plenty to keep his mind occupied. As fantastical as the merman was, he only took up a small portion of Connor’s thoughts.

The town was quiet for now, only local cars lining the streets, but that wouldn’t last long. There was a warmth in the air that foretold of the summer months fast approaching. Connor went to Marty’s bookstore. It was a small building, cramped with bursting bookcases and towers of second-hand novels with a small till hidden in the corner. An older man with hobbled shoulders and stark white hair occupied the stool.

The smell of old pages and new books mingled together. Connor felt the same as he had when setting foot on the boat last night—grounded.

“Marty,”

Connor greeted.

Marty looked up from his book. His brow creased as he squinted, but his eyes widened as he recognised Connor.

“How tall you’ve gotten!”

Marty declared in delight, a booming voice that didn’t fit such a frail form burst from the old man. He sprang up from his chair and rushed forward, alert eyes drinking in Connor. “And you’ve filled out! Come in, come in. We’ll go into the back for some tea.”

He scuttled to the front door and flipped the closed sign, flicking the lock.

“You’ve got your nose stuck in a book as always, Marty,”

Connor said, pretending that his emotions weren’t soaring steadfast into something positive.

“Best way to spend time, my boy.”

Marty laughed. “I worried you wouldn’t come to see me. You’ve been home a while, yes? But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

Connor felt a tinge of guilt that he hadn’t come sooner. But he’d been afraid. What if he hadn’t been greeted like this? What if he’d stepped into a childhood treasure, and Marty had turned him away in disgust? He followed Marty into the back where his house was. The kitchen connected directly to the store. Connor had spent days and days on the armchair in the corner, where Marty would let him stay and read for as long as he liked.

Connor released a slow breath as his body unwound in relief. I’m glad Sam told me to visit.