Page 29 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)
They stopped outside the house, Connor’s mind whirling. It had been evident for a while now that what happened hadn’t been a mere coincidence. That there had been a force working against him. But now? Now that he knew those guards were explicitly involved, evidence pointed to his dad’s involvement. “Why”
eluded him. Connor couldn’t hazard even the wildest of guesses why his dad, or anyone, would do something like this, but the fact remained that someone had.
“Laurence.”
Connor leaned between the two front seats. “You go talk to Trevor. Nick, if you’re up for a drive…”
“A drive where?”
Nick asked.
At the same time, Laurence said, “I want to come!”
“You can explain it to your dad and tell him who those guards are. You’ve met them before, and Nick hasn’t,”
Connor said.
“Where are you two going to go?”
Laurence asked, visibly unhappy at being left behind.
“I want to meet with some classmates who were at the party. Hear from them what happened and what they saw.”
“I want to come. Nick can tell Trevor about it.”
“Trevor will worry all day if the two of us go off. He trusts Nick to keep an eye on me so I don’t get sick again. And,”
Connor leaned forward, pressing in close to Laurence’s ear to whisper, “You’re the only one who can talk to Adonis. I’m sure he’ll be worrying by now. Please, Laurence.”
“Okay,”
Laurence agreed as Connor pulled back. “But you have to tell me everything you learn.”
“Promise,”
Connor said.
When Laurence left, he got into the passenger seat and took out his phone. He didn’t have anyone’s numbers anymore, but he could log into Messenger and get their contact info that way.
He felt Nick’s stare.
“If you don’t want to come, I’ll go alone,”
Connor said.
“I’ll come,”
Nick said, voice lacking anything combative. He started the engine. “Which direction am I going?”
“Inland. I’ll find out the exact address on the way. Let’s go before Trevor notices.”
“He’s not going to be happy about this,”
Nick said.
“I’m bringing you. That’ll keep him happy enough.”
They reached the main road as Connor sent off the first round of texts. He hesitated after finding Peter’s contact details. He mulled it over several times before typing out, give me your address, and hitting send.
“Are they really the guards from your dad’s lab?”
Nick broke the silence.
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t recognise them?”
“No. Like I said, I don’t remember much of that night. After a certain point, my memory just goes blank.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
None of the case made sense.
“Who are we going to see?”
Nick asked when Connor didn’t say anything.
“Peter.”
“He was there that night?”
“He’s the guy I beat up.”
Nick cast Connor a sideways look. “Would you listen if I told you why that’s a terrible idea?”
“I can’t picture it anymore,”
Connor said. He kept his phone screen unlocked to see when the message was opened and read. “I could at first. Obviously, I didn’t become a bigot overnight and decide to beat Peter up, but I reasoned that if I came across him in bed with my boyfriend, maybe I was pissed enough to fight him. But…that’s on Austin, right? He’s the one I was dating. At no point have I been mad at Peter—dude was always an asshole, but it’s not like he’s the one I was dating—so why would I hit him? And be mad enough to hit him? I’d be mad at Austin, and there’s no way I’d punch that shrimp. He’s smaller than Laurence.”
“So what do you think happened?”
“I have no idea. I hadn’t been drinking, and I blacked out. I woke up covered in bruises like I’d been in a fight. I was arrested by the two yanks who are now standing guard at my dad’s lab. And the sentencing was a complete joke, given by someone who had received bribes from my dad’s boss.”
Maybe if Connor hadn’t been so confused by everything, he’d have realised back then that something was seriously wrong with what was happening.
Nick’s phone rang. Connor picked it up off the dash and saw the caller ID pop up as “Dad.”
He answered it and pressed the phone to his ear. “Trevor,”
he greeted.
“You couldn’t have come in for two minutes?”
“You’d make a big deal about staying if I did.”
“Where are you now?”
Connor glanced out the window at the nearest sign. “Just getting onto the national road now. Don’t worry; Nick is going to keep an eye on me. We’ll be back by dinner time.”
“Can you put Nick on?”
“He’s driving.”
“Speakerphone.”
Connor hesitated. “I’m just going to see an old classmate.”
“I won’t stop you.”
“Hm.”
“Speaker, Connor.”
Connor sighed. He could just hang up and turn off the phone. But judging from the side eye Nick gave him, that would lead to them pulling over and Nick calling Trevor back, anyway.
“Fine.”
“Nick?”
“I can hear you, Dad,”
Nick said, inclining his head toward the phone.
“Pull in at the next shopping centre and pick up an ice pack for Connor’s hand and some painkillers,”
Trevor instructed.
“Alright.”
“And take the keys out, so Connor doesn’t take them and drive off on his own. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
Connor cursed under his breath and hung up. “You want answers, too, Nick. I know you do.”
He also knew that Nick would follow Trevor’s instructions. And he did. Connor ended up stranded in the car with an ice pack on his knuckles by the time Trevor pulled up next to them in the parking lot. Nick and him exchanged car keys, and Trevor sat in the driver’s seat.
He eyed Connor warily like he might explode at him, and when Connor didn’t, he leaned in.
“Can I see?”
Connor offered his hand for Trevor to inspect. It was sore, but there was hardly a mark. “You know,”
Trevor said as he rubbed the muscles of Connor’s wrist gingerly, “This isn’t what your hand looked like before.”
“Before?”
“When you came home, your knuckles were bruised and swollen, but not like this.”
“This was from one punch. Peter was beaten up.”
“So were you. The lawyer I’m working with called in an expert. None of your injuries were documented after the arrest, and only your knuckles and hands were photographed for evidence. The expert says the wounds on your hands weren’t caused by punches.”
Connor studied the concentrated look on Trevor’s face as he spoke and then looked at his barely marked hand. “What did he say caused it?”
“Blunt force trauma. He showed me pictures of other similar injuries. It most resembled people whose hands had been stomped on.”
Trevor placed the ice pack over Connor’s knuckles.
Connor needed a few seconds to be able to swallow. “My fingers would have broken if that was what happened.”
“It wasn’t from you hitting anyone,”
Trevor repeated. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Is your head okay?”
“It’s fine.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Tired?”
“Trevor, I’m fine,”
Connor said, letting sharpness into his voice. It drew Trevor’s gaze from his hand to his face.
They sat in silence for a few seconds before Trevor spoke. “So, where do you want to go?”
Connor cast him a questioning look.
“I know you well enough by now, Connor, to know that if I don’t bring you there myself, you’ll find your own way. And I’m sure you find me extremely annoying, but after what Laurence just told me, I’ll take you hating me if it keeps you in my sight where I know you’re safe.”
Connor leaned back and stared out the windshield. “I don’t hate you.”
He waited a few beats before continuing. “I don’t understand any of it.”
“We’ll figure it out, I promise. And I’ll keep you safe.”
Connor’s throat got tight. It wasn’t just that Trevor was earnest that caught him; it was that he believed him. Trevor meant it. His phone buzzed, and Connor dug it out, blinking away the stinging in his eyes. He didn’t know why his bottom lip trembled or why he felt like crying when he hadn’t shed a tear in longer than he could remember—but his chest swelled with emotion threatening to bulldoze his controlled exterior. The part that feigned disinterest in the world had long been broken down by Trevor and Laurence, and now the part that hid his inner emotions was crumbling, too.
The message on his phone distracted him.
Connor showed it to Trevor. “Here’s the address. Peter’s the only person I can think of who can tell me what happened that night.”
Austin had made it clear that he wouldn’t talk, and Connor wouldn’t trust anything he said even if he did.
Trevor took the phone and inputted the address into the car’s GPS. The route came up as four hours. “Why don’t you try nap? Nick said you were falling asleep as soon as you left the house.”
“Of course he did. Just when I started to like him…what else did he say?”
“That he can’t stand how Laurence copies you.”
Connor snorted.
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “I’m quite of the same mind…you’ve turned Laurence into a proper little accomplice.”
“As if. He only does what he feels like.”
“And what he feels like doing always seems to be what you want him to do. Funny how that works.”
*
Connor did what he didn’t want to. As soon as the car started moving, he fell asleep and woke hours later with a crick in his neck. He stretched with a groan and looked around himself. Trevor was in the driver’s seat, sipping a takeaway coffee and scrolling through his phone. He looked at Connor as he orientated himself.
“Pit stop?”
Connor asked with a yawn.
“Final destination. You slept the whole way. Here, eat this first and have some Lucozade.”
Connor looked around himself as he did. They were parked outside a large house with a massive driveway encircled by tall stone walls covered in vines. There were two cars parked aside from their own one.
“How long have we been here? They’ll call the guards if someone randomly pulls up to their house and sits there.”
“I’ve spoken to Tracy already. She offered you a guest bedroom to rest if you need.”
“Not typically what moms say to someone that assaulted their kid.”
Early in the case, the people defending Connor said it was Tracy Sullivan trying to frame him to further her political career. Connor was less interested in her role than he was in Peter’s.
“No,”
Trevor said. “It isn’t. Do you want to wait here while I go in and talk to them?”
“You can talk to Tracy, and I’ll talk to Peter.”
Connor expected a warning or a word of caution, but Trevor nodded. “Okay.”
They got out of the car and approached the house. Connor couldn’t help himself. “Aren’t you going to tell me not to beat him up?”
“Laurence isn’t here for him to insult, so I’m sure Peter is safe enough,”
Trevor remarked as he raised his hand to knock.
“Laurence is the worst gossip.”
“He does talk a lot…but there is also the fact that someone filmed your scuffle at the docks.”
Connor cursed. “Did it catch me throwing the punch?”
“It also captured why you threw it. The video has already gone viral, so it’s an established fact that you’re not a bigot.”
“Just violent.”
“In that situation, anyone can understand an emotional reaction.”
“I thought about it first,”
Connor said. “I decided that I’d hit him once. I figured you wouldn’t get mad at that much, and,”
he looked at him sideways, “I can see I was right.”
Trevor’s lips twitched as he fought a smile. He wrapped his arm around Connor’s shoulders and pressed a fond kiss to his crown. Connor’s brow creased in confusion. What about that admission had earned such a reaction, he didn’t know, but Trevor’s features were relaxed when he straightened. The smile he’d fought allowed him to win as he cast Connor an amused look, his eyes glittering.
“What?”
Connor asked, his bad temper clear in his voice.
“Needle as much as you like; it won’t make me angry. I’m glad you stuck up for Laurence.”
“You’re glad that I assaulted a guy?”
Connor heard the petulance in his own voice. Even his dad would be provoked to anger if he spoke to him like this. Edith would have lost the plot at him long ago.
“You don’t like people seeing you in a positive light, do you? Or perhaps it’s just that you’re not used to it. I would guess it’s a bit of both, personally. And you can test and test, but you won’t change my mind about you,”
Trevor said conversationally. He glanced from Connor to the door as footsteps approached. His arm remained around Connor’s shoulder.
Connor tried to mask his irritation. He hadn’t been purposefully trying to test Trevor. It just didn’t sit well with him that Trevor wasn’t at least giving him a lecture about why throwing that punch had been a terrible idea, given his situation. “Shouldn’t you bring up the case, at least?”
Connor snipped, irritated at himself for not being able to let it rest. “Remind me I’m already sitting on an assault charge? Bring up that repeat offenders get harsher sentencing?”
“If you were boasting about it, I might have given a lecture… I had to give Laurence a talk.”
The door opened. Connor, deeply unsettled, turned his attention to the young man in the doorway. Peter’s bleached hair was currently a pristine white, his ears were filled with studs of silver, and his bottom lip had a lip piercing that he chewed at. Hazel eyes glanced over at Trevor and turned nervously to Connor. There was clear apprehension in Peter’s expression.
There was a beat of silence. Trevor opened his mouth to speak; Connor cut in first.
“Are you going to invite us in or not?”
Peter stopped gnawing at his lip ring. “Yeah.”
He stayed blocking the doorway. Despite the irritation that bloomed at the mere sight of Peter, Connor kept his calm. All of Peter’s bruises had healed, leaving his skin unmarred and unblemished. There was a greyness to his skin that frequent visits to Europe usually kept tanned.
“Let’s go up to your room.”
Connor stepped into the house. He broke free of Trevor but looked over his shoulder. “Trevor’s going to talk to your mom.”
“Okay.”
Peter was still gnawing.
Connor stared at him at length. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he hadn’t beaten up Peter. Whatever had happened that night, it hadn’t been him that hurt him. However, Peter’s nerves were clear. “Or I can just talk to your mom instead,”
Connor said.
Peter’s gaze jumped to his face.
“If I’m making you nervous.”
Peter glanced between Connor and Trevor, then settled his eyes on Connor. He swallowed, and his shoulders dropped an inch as he relaxed them. “No, I want to talk.”
He looked at Trevor. “Mom is making you fresh coffee. Just in there.”
He pointed.
“Call if you need me,”
Trevor said to Connor before crossing the entranceway and disappearing into the next room.
Connor stood in silence with Peter as he eyed him. Was he skinnier than a few months ago? “I can just talk to your Mom,”
he said again. “You’re looking a little flighty. I wouldn’t want anyone to accuse me of coming here to antagonise my victim.”
“You didn’t beat me up.”
“I know.”
Peter’s bottom lip was white and marred with teeth marks as he released it. His gaze darted around, landing on anything but Connor. “I’m sorry.”
Connor licked his lips as he fought the urge to squeeze the truth out of Peter all at once. “Let’s go sit down. And you don’t need to be so nervous, Peter. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”
Peter’s shoulders had crept up again. He glanced toward the stairs, and Connor could see that this wasn’t going to work. He’d be wringing the truth out of a scared Peter. “You’ve told your mom what happened?”
Peter nodded.
“Let’s go sit with them,”
Connor said, and he walked into the kitchen where Trevor and Tracy sat at the kitchen table.
Connor went to Trevor’s side and sat down. “So what happened?”
he asked Tracy. She didn’t look scared of him, and he didn’t care about how she felt about him. Not that he’d ever particularly cared about what Peter thought of him, either. Peter had always been irritating at school. Flirty, loud-mouthed, and vexing. He picked fights with everyone. He didn’t scrunch his shoulders, nibble at his lip, and stare at the ground between his feet.
“You saw the post about the two guards? Peter say if those are the two guys that were there that night?”
Connor led.
Peter slid into the seat next to his mom. “It was them.”
His voice came out a little louder, more normal now. He seemed more comfortable now that he was next to his mom. “Do you remember any of it?”
“No.”
“We believe that Connor was drugged that night,”
Trevor said.
“Oh yeah, he was totally fucked,”
Peter said. “Um.”
He cleared his throat, and his cheeks reddened. “Sorry, I mean—one of the men jabbed a needle into his—your—neck. And you were just gone, you know? In seconds.”
Chills went down Connor’s spine. When he thought about being drugged, he thought of someone slipping something into his drink. Not of being physically injected with a needle. Trevor tensed up beside him.
“The shorter one stomped on your hand.”
Peter’s gaze dipped down to Connor’s right hand. He stared at his knuckles as he spoke. “And then he beat me up. They threatened me. They said if I told anyone, they’d—”
Tracy’s hand covered her son’s, silencing him. “Threats were made,”
she said. “But that is not keeping Peter silent any longer. I promise you, Connor, that we will speak with the investigators and clear up your situation. I have already started my own investigation and am more than willing to share everything I’ve found with the guards. And your lawyer.”
“I think my assault charge is the least of what needs to be cleared up,”
Connor said absently. He was drugged. Framed. The guards at his dad’s workplace did the dirty work. Cessair paid off the judge for a light punishment. His lawyer made him plead guilty. “What about Austin?”
he asked Peter.
“He was there. He watched.”
“Did he say anything?”
Peter shook his head. “We’ve been trying to track him down, but he’s been a ghost since everything happened.”
“Austin was in our home not so long ago,”
Trevor said.
Tracy’s gaze on him was sharp.
“What?”
Peter sounded outraged and more like his old self. “What did he say?”
“Nothing helpful,”
Connor said.
“Could you call him to come to meet you again?”
Tracy asked. “He’s involved in what happened. We’ve tried to track him down, but he vanished from school weeks ago.”
“I can message him. Though I don’t know if he’ll meet me.”
With everything coming to light publicly, he might go into hiding. Connor would try, at least.
“Let me get my folder. Just a moment.”
Tracy stood up and strode from the room in quick steps.
“Mom has been investigating everything from the start. As soon as they started blaming her for your sentencing, she started looking into it,”
Peter explained. “And then she realised I hadn’t talked about it…I’m sorry, Connor. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. I was scared, and they—”
“I don’t blame you at all,”
Connor said.
“But you were expelled. And everyone hates you. And you ended up with a criminal record, too.”
“Honestly, Peter. You look way worse off than me.”
Peter studied Connor at length. “Yeah. You look good. I’ve been wracked with guilt for months, and you’ve been off sunbathing.”
His chuckle was self-deprecating. “Seems about right. You and Austin still dating?”
“Do I look insane?”
“Single, then?”
Connor was aware of Trevor sitting next to him. But he was even more conscious of Peter meeting his eyes, and his gaze brightened in interest, not fear. “No,”
Connor answered.
“Shame,”
Peter said.
“Want me to introduce you to someone?”
Peter looked at him, a glint in his hazel eyes. “Do they talk mean like you do?”
“No. They’re nice.”
“Nah. But if you come across a hot guy that’s mean, send him my way.”
Trevor, to his credit, stared stoically at the doorway Tracy went out of as if he hadn’t heard Peter.
“Is the guy you’re dating mean?”
Peter asked.
“No.”
“What’s he like?”
“Sweet.”
“Since when do you go for sweet?”
Peter asked, disapproval in his voice.
Connor had never been drawn to sweet in the past. He was too harsh for a sweet partner. But Adonis was made of stronger stuff than he was. Connor would break sooner than he did, and he preferred it that way. There was less to fear.
Tracy entered the room before Connor could answer. She gave Trevor a thick folder. “This is everything I copied while you were outside. There’s more on this.”
She placed a thumb drive on the table. “And if you text me your email address—I have my number on the front, there—I will send you everything new I come across.”
“Thank you.”
Trevor stood up to take the folder.
Connor’s energy was flagging by the time they talked through the details—the rest of which Connor had heard already from Laurence’s blogger. Trevor noticed.
“Thank you for meeting with us.”
Trevor shook Tracy’s hand.
Connor’s goodbye was waving off more of Peter’s apologies. In the car, he leaned back in the seat and picked at the loose seam by his thigh. He watched the house until they were pulled out of the driveway, and trees hid it. He was silent for a few minutes before he inclined his head toward Trevor.
“Peter’s an outgoing guy, usually. Loud and proud. He’s always got something to talk about.”
He paused. “I didn’t think about him as a victim. I mean, when I came home, I was bruised, too. I figured we were in a two-way fight. But he was spooked. You see how nervous he was? He should have been picking a fight with me like he normally does, not—”
Connor let out a frustrated breath, unsure what he was trying to say.
“It’s upsetting to see him hurt,”
Trevor said with understanding.
Connor stared out the window and didn’t blink until his eyes burned. “Yeah,”
he admitted softly. Trevor knew what he was getting at, even when he didn’t. “He shouldn’t be. Why would those two men beat him up? What did assaulting Peter get them?”
“They assaulted you, too,”
Trevor said quietly.
“I’m fine.”
He met Trevor’s gaze. “I don’t even remember it. And I’m confused, not scared like Peter is.”
“I know you wouldn’t admit it even if you were scared.”
Trevor was probably right. “Did you contact the guardaí? Laurence told you who those guards were from the picture?”
“I did. The head detective wants to speak with us. They’ll be at the house first thing tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“In the meantime, it’s safer for you to stay away from your dad’s lab.”
Trevor gave Connor an apprehensive look as if he might object.
Connor bristled. “Do I look stupid? Why would I go where the men who assaulted Peter—and me, as you pointed out—are?”
“I’m just making sure you’re not going to go off and confront them yourself.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay, good. And I also think it’s important not to contact Ben either.”
Trevor’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead at the road. The cat’s-eyes winked at them from the centre and sides, but beyond the illumination of the headlights, there was little to see. “I don’t want to assume anything or make any insinuations, but—”
“He’s obviously involved.”
Connor interrupted before Trevor tried to dance around the obvious. “I don’t have a clue why or in what way, but there’s something there.”
“The detectives will be here in the morning. We’ll coordinate with Tracy, and we’ll figure this whole thing out. I don’t want you to worry,”
Trevor said.
It was impossible not to believe him when he spoke like that.
“Yeah,”
Connor said. “I know.”