Page 2 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

Trevor took a deep breath. “Let me clear up what you may find upsetting. We didn’t give away your room to Laurence, and I apologise. I should have thought about how offering you the storage room would make you feel.”

“You didn’t give away my room to Laurence?”

Connor repeated. “That’s an interesting interpretation on how I no longer have a room in this house because Laurence now has it.”

“We’re building an extension,”

Trevor said. His eyes were dark, but there was an undeniable earnestness in them. And there was just this… softness in his expression. Like he was a gentle person. Connor didn’t mix well with gentle.

“We already have planning permission,”

Trevor continued, “and I have the contractors lined up to start work on the house next month. It was originally supposed to be finished before you came home for the summer.”

Connor believed there was an extension on the way. He didn’t believe his mom thought he’d ever be coming home after he finished school. If it weren’t for the whole… mess, he doubted he’d ever have returned to this seaside town. There was nothing here but resentment and bad memories.

“The boys are picking up pizza. What toppings do you like? Vegetarian? Meat feast? Do you like pizza?”

Trevor asked him.

Connor wasn’t so stubborn that he would turn away food. After all, he’d been travelling for hours and had scarcely eaten since everything went down. Sore ribs made for painful everything. “I’ll eat whatever.”

“Are you under any advisement from the doctors?”

Trevor asked him.

Connor wondered, suddenly, what version of the story Trevor had heard. Had his mom lied about what happened so Trevor didn’t think she’d raised a little devil? It didn’t seem likely. Not with all the news reports and outrage that had stemmed from his quick sentencing, which, he knew thanks to the people out there spitting his name, had been woefully soft. A maelstrom of negative emotions bled through his body.

“I was the one doing the beating up, in case you hadn’t heard,”

Connor said stiffly.

Trevor’s eyes inexplicably softened. “Nobody assessed you?”

“If you mean a mental assessment, then no.”

“I mean the physical kind,”

Trevor said calmly. He brought his arm up, checking the silver watch banded to his wrist. “The doctor’s office will still be open. If I call ahead, I’m sure Dr. Long will fit you in before they close.”

So Trevor was the meddling kind. “I’ll pass,”

Connor said.

“It’s better to be safe.”

“If I was hurt, I would have seen someone already.”

The idea of a doctor’s visit wasn’t high on his list of goals. In fact, it was pretty much near the bottom. Right next to moving back in with his mom.

“You looked hurt getting out of the Jeep.”

Trevor nodded to Connor’s midsection. “Your ribs, is it?”

Connor could just imagine the gossip if he appeared at the local doctor’s office. It wouldn’t be long before people knew he was home; how exciting it must be for a quaint little town to have someone from the area turn out so rotten.

“I’ll pass.”

He didn’t need a doctor to tell him he had bruised ribs. And he didn’t need to force his presence on Dr. Long, who the entire population of their little seaside town knew was gay. He should have talked about his blackout with a doctor, but when he’d told his lawyer about his memory loss, he was not believed and was told to keep quiet.

An apprehensive look crossed Trevor’s face: something that dipped his calm into unhappiness. “I can bring you to the hospital if you would prefer to be seen by a different doctor.”

Ah ha. Trevor must have been a local to know about Dr. Long. Connor offered a humourless smile. “I’ll pass on whoever that is, too.”

“If that’s how you feel, I can leave it be. Now I know you don’t know my sons or me, and it’s going to be uncomfortable for you to see us in your space. If something is bothering you, you can talk to me about it. I’ll do what I can to help you get settled in again. And I know these aren’t the circumstances that everyone was expecting, but I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

Trevor had that warmth in his expression again. Connor stared at him, wondering if he’d be saying the same thing had Connor murdered someone. It didn’t seem right to be hearing this now.

As awful as the comments were that declared he was a horrible person, the ones defending him turned his stomach.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in,”

Trevor said as he stood and walked to the kitchen. Just how one talked to a guest in their house. Connor wasn’t a guest, more like an unwanted visitor. He lay on the couch, using an uncomfortable throw pillow to support his head. He toed off his shoes. I’m more like an inescapable burden. His parents hadn’t been able to evade responsibility for him this time, though he wondered how long it would be before his mom kicked him out. She’d been longing to do that for years, and now that he was eighteen, she could do so without legal repercussions.

Except she’d gone and married Trevor.

Connor stared at the ceiling, examining the old wooden boards in the fading daylight. Despite himself, Connor relaxed. He had been staying in one uncomfortable bed after another for the past week and this was a glorious respite from those hard pillows and scratchy blankets, even if he was still in enemy territory.

Connor dozed off, waking with the front door opening and a young voice announcing, “We’re home!”

Connor opened his eyes. The sky had dimmed to a dark blue, and the yellow lights that had been around him when he’d fallen asleep were all shut off. The hallway light was off until the boy who entered flicked the switch by the door. He illuminated himself and a stack of pizza boxes.

The boy was nothing like Trevor, airing far too much on the side of delicate and small. He had the same blonde hair as his dad and even darker eyes.

“Shh,”

Trevor trotted out of the kitchen, talking in a low voice, “Connor is asleep on the couch.”

“Oh!”

The boy’s voice was suddenly a whisper. “I didn’t realise.”

They both looked Connor’s way.

It wasn’t so dark that they missed him staring at the pair of them. The boy’s expression dropped like he’d committed a cardinal sin.

Trevor patted his shoulder. “Go on into the kitchen with the food. Is Nick on his way?”

“He’s parking around the side,”

the boy, who must have been Laurence, replied.

Connor sat up. A heavy blanket fell from his shoulders as he did. Connor looked at the blue-sheeted duvet, wondering how he hadn’t woken to something so heavy being placed on him. He hadn’t been disturbed at all.

“Sorry about that, Connor,”

Trevor apologised to him. “You can go back to sleep. We’ll save you some pizza.”

Connor considered lying back down to avoid eating with everyone. But as soon as the thought entered his head, he decided against it. As out of place as he was here, this was supposed to be his home. He wasn’t going to run away and hide in a corner.

“I’m awake now.”

Connor got up, ignoring that jolt of pain in his midsection, and walked to the kitchen. Edith was opening the pizza boxes and setting them out on the kitchen table. Her expression was pinched before she even saw him. As soon as she had… well, that look turned rather severe.

Laurence hovered by the food, his dark eyes darting to Connor as he walked in. His expression wasn’t as easy to read, his fussing hands a little more revealing as he picked at the tablecloth. Connor picked up a slice of the nearest pizza, the one with plain cheese. All the rest had different types of meat on them.

He leaned against the counter, his back to the window, and acknowledged the glare his mother cut his way as he took his first bite. He raised his eyebrows at her. Was she not going to even attempt to hide her hostility? But then again… Connor wasn’t about to pretend they were friends, either. They both knew what was up.

“Do you say grace now or something? Your new husband said it was fine to eat,”

Connor said.

She straightened out invisible lines on her shirt, and Connor watched the battle play out across her features. He watched her decide to bite her tongue on whatever sharp word she’d been poised to deliver. He had a feeling if Trevor’s son wasn’t standing two feet away, it would have been delivered promptly and with as much venom as she could muster. Austin used to call his dad Orotund Bastard when talking badly of him. On the rare occasion that Austin needled him into talking about his mom, Connor stuck to simpler language. Mean seemed a sufficient enough description to him, though it seemed to irk Austin that he wouldn’t rail about her more.

“We usually sit together,”

Laurence ventured, his dark eyes landing on Connor’s face for a split second before darting away, only to return a second later. It was as if Laurence thought looking in Connor’s direction was a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself. “Dad likes to eat as a family.”

“Don’t let me stop you,”

Connor said.

His mom bristled.

Laurence seemed to contemplate that for a moment, then reached for a slice of pizza. He took one of the meat feast slices and approached Connor, leaning against the counter next to him. Connor didn’t process his actions for a moment; then, as he took a bite of pizza, Laurence’s cheeks turned bright red.

“Laurence, dear,”

Edith said in a pained voice. “You should wait for your dad and Nick. Don’t let Connor’s bad habits rub off on you.”

Connor snorted. “My bad habits? And tell me when was the last time we ate a meal together? Was it my responsibility to get everyone to the table growing up? You should have told me. I would have put in a bit more effort.”

“Don’t,”

she snapped.

Laurence went from red to white.

Trevor stepped into the kitchen just as the sharp word left Edith’s mouth. Next to him was a boy taller than Laurence, shorter than Trevor, but well on his way to filling out like his dad. Nick didn’t have the same dark eyes that his family did; his were lighter, more amber-coloured. And as they jumped to Connor and Laurence, they darkened as his features solidified into anger.

Connor only had a moment to register the meaning of that expression, but it was more than enough. He’d faced looks of disgust and hate non-stop since his birthday.

“Laurence.”

Nick scowled. “Come here.”

Laurence’s shoulders scrunched up. “I’m eating,”

he said timidly. He wasn’t eating. He’d watched Connor exchange with his mom with a fearful look.

Trevor put his hand on Nick’s shoulder, stopping the beginnings of an angry advance. Trevor gave Nick a pointed look that Nick met with a challenge that quickly subsided. When Trevor turned his attention to Edith, Nick directed a lethal glare toward Connor. Connor met it and took a bite of his pizza, hoping Nick would see how little he cared for his dirty looks. Nick’s face reddened in anger.

“I see we’re off to a good start,”

Trevor said, his voice light. He met Edith’s eyes and offered her a soft smile. The stress eased from her pinched expression, and she went to his side, taking his hand. In all his life, Connor had never seen his mom look at anyone with anything other than hate and exasperation. He hadn’t thought it possible.

“Shall we sit and eat?”

Trevor suggested, taking the time to look at everyone. Nick’s glaring must have caught his attention because he squeezed his son’s shoulder.

Laurence braved taking another bite. He seemed to do his best not to look at Nick. Trevor studied the two of them by the counter with a faint smile. “You’re quick to abandon us, Laurence,”

he remarked.

“We’re still in the kitchen…”

Laurence said, glancing shyly at his dad.

“A compelling argument,”

Trevor said in a humouring tone. “I’ll have to allow it.”

With his hand at Edith’s back, he directed her to the table, where he pulled a chair out for her and then sat next to her. Nick waited a moment by the entrance to the kitchen before stalking to the nearest chair and dragging it out. He sat facing Connor and Laurence as if ready to jump up and drag them apart at a moment’s notice.

Thanks to Laurence, Connor was suddenly more included in the little family dinner than he had expected or wanted to be.

“Is the pizza okay?”

Trevor asked, directing the question at Connor.

“It’s fine,” he said.

“What do you like eating?”

Laurence asked next, dark brown eyes looking up at Connor curiously. From the corner of his eye, Connor saw how Nick bristled and shot Laurence a look that obviously meant, don’t talk to that piece of shit.

“Fish.”

Laurence’s eyes lit up. Connor couldn’t tell if he was pleased by the answer or because Connor had answered him at all.

“Dad is really good at cooking fish,”

he told Connor. “Especially white fish, like hake or cod. And, well, I don’t like it, but apparently the mackerel he makes is good, too.”

“I’d have to put salmon as my number one,”

Trevor weighed in. “Should we do that for dinner tomorrow?”

He directed the question to Laurence, who nodded eagerly.

“You should have cooked something tonight instead of just getting pizza,”

Laurence told him.

Trevor’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, should I?”

Laurence raised his chin slightly, a glimmer of stubbornness flashing in his dark eyes. “Takeaway is lazy.”

That glimmer of stubbornness disintegrated into a grin. “I can help cook tomorrow?”

“I think it should be your job to cook dinner,”

Trevor said. “I wouldn’t want to teach you lazy habits, now would I?”

Laurence pouted. “I don’t want to ruin the salmon.”

Connor chewed his bite of pizza slowly. How good-humoured Trevor was. What a mismatch to his mother. Connor glanced at her to see what she made of all of this. The picture of a happy, harmonious family where a parent actually talked to their kid and liked them. He caught her eye as he looked in her direction, and her happy expression dropped.

It told him more than enough.

Connor looked away from her. It didn’t even spoil his mood anymore. He’d gotten used to her years ago.

“So.”

Trevor set down his pizza. “I hoped you two wouldn’t mind sharing a room for a little while,”

Trevor said. “Laurence, you got Connor’s room when we moved in, and now that he’s back, he’ll need a place to stay.”

Laurence’s gaze darted to Nick. The happiness was stripped away from his expression. “Share?”

he repeated.

“Connor needs a bed,”

Trevor said. “I’ll move the fold-up into Nick’s room for you to use.”

“What about the bed that’s set up for him already?”

Nick asked sharply.

Trevor winced. “That was a bad idea on my part. It’s scarcely more than a cupboard, and the extension is still a few months away from being complete. It’s not fair to ask anyone to stay in such a confined space for so long.”

“But it’s fine for Laurence to lose his room?”

“As if it didn’t belong to anyone else first,”

Connor cut in.

Nick’s icy gaze jumped to Connor. “He’s more deserving of a room than you.”

“Nick,”

Trevor said sharply, loud enough to make Nick jump. Nick swung his head around to Trevor, mouth open, no doubt ready to spew out all the reasons he was right, but he froze. Trevor’s face was a stern mask. Connor made a mental note that he got angry after all.

“Take a walk,”

Trevor told Nick. “And come back once you’ve calmed down.”

There was no room for discussion. Nick left the room, and a few seconds later, the front door opened and closed. In the silence that followed, Laurence inched away from Connor, pulled out of one of the kitchen chairs and sank into it. He kept his face pointed down. A pained look crossed Trevor’s face as he glanced toward Laurence and saw the change.