Page 8 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

Trevor’s cafe was nestled a few streets inland from the docks. Connor hadn’t ever been here, but he could picture it during the summer. Tables swelling with beach-goers and families, sand and saltwater dirtying the wooden floor, ice-creams selling from the freezer as fast as the drinks disappeared from the cooler.

Connor stood behind the counter and the display of cakes as he surveyed the checkout, the coffee machine, and Nick’s glare. How fun this would be… Laurence worked in the kitchen with Trevor, which left the job of training Connor to Nick.

“Are you going to show me how anything works or just spend the day glaring at me?”

Connor asked once he got sick of the looks. He had gotten used to Nick the same way he’d gotten used to the guards at the lab; the difference was Connor had never been apprehensive about Nick’s hate, only resigned to it.

“You’ll clear the tables,”

Nick said shortly. “Take a tray and a cloth and bring them into wash-up.”

Connor looked around himself, finding the things he’d need. “Okay.”

He picked up the top tray and a washcloth. It was light, and—

“Leave it,”

Nick snapped. “There are no tables to clear yet.”

Connor’s hackles raised. He dropped the tray into place with a clatter and levelled a hard look at Nick. He understood Nick’s attitude. Knew it stemmed from concern for Laurence. Understanding didn’t stop the grating effect Nick’s tone had on his nerves.

Nick sneered. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Talk to me like that again and we’re going to have issues,”

Connor said calmly, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “And if we have issues, I promise those two in there are going to feel the hurt from them, too.”

Rage danced in Nick’s eyes. He advanced on Connor, body tensed, fists clenched.

“Don’t even think about it,”

Connor said, keeping his voice even as his heart thrummed in anticipation. “You’re not bigger than me, and it’s not going to go well for you.”

“You’re on probation. You’ll be the one in trouble.”

“Not when we’re standing under a camera and you swing first,”

Connor said. “What will your dad think about you acting like a violent thug? How’s Laurence going to look at you afterwards?”

Nick was furious but not so furious as to lose his reason.

Nick pulled himself back from the edge, restraint swarming back into his expression. “Stay away from Laurence,”

Nick spat. He turned on his heels and stormed back to his coffee machine. Jugs and cups clattered together as he violently worked on making a cup of coffee.

Connor leaned against the counter, waiting and wishing he could be anywhere else. Longing for the ocean. The open waters… If only Trevor trusted him enough to leave him alone for the weekend.

Wishes became prayers as the day went on.

The cafe quickly filled up with people, and Nick spat at him to go take orders. Connor was surprised by the attitudes of people and the mildness that he was treated with, even when he was recognised.

“Well, well. How the mighty have fallen,”

a girl taunted.

Connor, in the middle of wiping a board, turned. A red-haired belle with dark eyes stared at him from the small gap that gave them access to the floor. His back straightened under her scrutiny, and then stiffened as he saw the was obvious delight swimming in her gaze.

“What do you want, Mary?”

Connor asked. The air shifted behind him and knew Nick was looking.

“Why so defensive? Are you embarrassed at the sorry state you’re in now? How you’ve—”

“Stop it,”

a male voice cut in. From around the corner came a bigger guy with the same red hair but lighter, greener eyes. Those eyes flicked toward Connor, studying him. Connor hated those kind eyes.

If there was anyone in the town delighted to hear the mess Connor got himself into, it was these two. And rightly so.

“How’s life treating you?”

Mary asked, lips curved into a sly smile.

Sam didn’t seem to get the same perverse delight out of seeing Connor. “I said stop,”

his voice was stern. “Go order the coffee.”

Mary cast Connor another grin before making her way to the Nick at the coffee machine. Sam stayed there, eyes on Connor.

“What?”

“Can we talk outside for a minute?”

Sam asked.

Connor stayed rooted to the spot. What could they possibly have to talk about? Sam wasn’t sharp the same way Mary was, but he certainly wasn’t soft. Not toward Connor, not for years, now.

“Why?”

Sam glanced uncomfortably toward Mary and Nick, then back to Connor. Connor didn’t need eye contact to get that this wasn’t something he wanted to say within earshot of them.

“I called you,”

Sam said. “You didn’t answer.”

“Doesn’t that tell you enough?”

Sam’s lips pressed together, thinning into a hard line.

“You’re always such a shit, Connor,”

Mary said, voice sharp.

“Mary, I’m serious. Stop it.”

Sam scowled at her.

Nick didn’t seem smug that someone had taken up the role of verbal abuse, nor did he seem opposed to it. He glanced at Connor as if curious how he was going to respond. And what could Connor even say? He didn’t want to be sharp to Sam. But what choice did he have? If he showed weakness, he’d be eaten alive.

“Fine,”

Connor said. He joined the siblings on the other side of the counter. “Let’s talk.”

He paused as he passed by Mary. “Me and Sam, all alone, with no big sister to save him from me.”

Anger flared in her eyes. “Don’t you—”

“I’ll be out the side door,”

Connor said over her head, directing it toward Nick. Connor didn’t wait for anyone’s reply; he strode down the side hall that led to the bathrooms and went outside the staff exit. He stood on the gravel path that lined the building, and a second later, Sam joined him.

“What do we have to talk about?”

Connor asked, cutting to the chase. They weren’t friends and had scarcely talked in years.

Sam stood in front of Connor, his hands relaxed at his sides. Connor studied his eyes, seeking a hint of what he wanted.

“I’ve seen the articles about you,” Sam said.

“Everyone’s seen the articles about me. I’m a local celebrity now,”

Connor replied coolly. Was he here to gossip?

Sam nodded at him, a hint of distaste glimmering in his eyes. “You beat on your boyfriend?”

“Of course not,”

Connor snapped, the denial whipping out of him before his mind could cool the spark of anger at the suggestion of something so shitty. A few seconds later, he reminded himself that he had beaten someone up, so what difference did it make that it hadn’t been his boyfriend? It didn’t make him any less of a crap person that the one he’d hit wasn’t a friend, as opposed to someone closer.

Relief filled Sam’s features. “I didn’t think you would do that. I wanted to know for sure.”

“Why? Did you decide to become the town gossip instead of a fisherman?”

“I didn’t want to offer you an olive branch if that’s what you were doing,”

Sam answered Connor’s sharp tone with a mild one. It was one of the things Connor didn’t like about Sam; his cool head. His annoying tendency to think before he spoke. His ability to see right through Connor’s bluster.

“An olive branch?”

Connor hoped the scorn in his voice was clear. He was, as Mary said, being a little shit. Sam hadn’t even done anything wrong to Connor. Their break-up had been stupid and all Connor’s fault, which made this—this olive branch—sting.

“Nobody else is coming forward to help you,”

Sam pointed out. “All those rich kids you went partying with? Hooked up with? And nobody is talking about how you get with a dozen guys each summer?”

“I don’t get with a dozen guys each summer.”

“Half a dozen.”

“Jesus, Sam. Did you think I was hooking up with every guy I went out on the water with?”

“You did with me.”

Connor huffed in annoyance. He partied; he drank; he danced. He didn’t get with guys. His crush on Austin started early, and even when he came home for the summer, even before they’d started going out, Connor could never get his shining eyes out of his mind. Worse was that smile. That stuck to his mind like thick tar whenever they parted for the holidays.

It was the reason Connor ended things with Sam. Blow-in rich kids entertained him, occupied his thoughts during the many lonely hours that having nobody left him. But Austin’s sly grin dominated; nobody else managed to block it out.

The fight deserted Connor as he remembered more of him and Sam. Of when he’d tried with the thoughtful fishing boy that was smart and could handle Connor’s sharp edges.

Sam watched him go quiet. “I can talk to whoever I need to. Tell them you’re gay, and we dated. Mary can back me up.”

Connor stared at Sam. Things had ended so badly that they didn’t even say hi when they ran into each other, yet here he was offering to help Connor. He looked away, releasing a harsh breath to stop the swelling feeling in his chest and the burning in the back of his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. I just have to get through a few weeks of probation, and I’m done.”

Connor’s voice came out subdued.

“It does matter,”

Sam said. “This will follow you around for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

“Drop it, Sam. I gave you my answer.”

Annoyance crept into Sam’s expression. “You’re going to ruin your life by being too proud.”

“So what? You and Mary will have something to laugh about.”

“Nothing about this is funny.”

Sam’s fingers tugged at the edge of his shirt, and he cast his gaze away from Connor, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he worked it over. “You don’t have that kind of temper,”

Sam eventually said. “You can be mean, really mean, but I’ve never seen a hint of anything violent in you. And I can’t say that about most guys I went to school with. Whatever happened that night, I know it wasn’t because you—”

“Two seconds ago, you asked if I beat up my boyfriend,”

Connor interrupted. “You obviously don’t know that.”

“Just let me help you.”

Connor focused on the ocean. The waves were just a speck of white on the horizon as they broke; they were too far away to see the rise and swell of the waves. Somewhere in that bay a merman lurked, and from what his dad said, there were even more of them out there. Connor was one of the few that knew they even existed. A small part of Connor’s tension eased.

“Find any sea monsters out there yet?”

Connor asked. He had been so angry that everyone had turned their back on him, that nobody had stood up and said, “no, Connor wouldn’t do that.”

And now that someone was saying it, his anger didn’t abate at all; the hurt was still there. Why was the person he’d been awful to the one offering out his hand?

Sam was too soft, that was why. And Connor had been too tough.

“Just the usual kind,” Sam said.

“What’s the usual kind?”

“Your favourite.”

Connor’s nose scrunched up. “Squid?”

“And octopi,”

Sam added. “Only place in Ireland you’ll find them, and they get big now, too. I pulled up an orange octopus the size of a dog a few weeks back.”

Connor shuddered. “You did not.”

He turned to Sam. “An eldone cirrhosa? They don’t get that big here.”

He stopped, seeing Sam’s small smile. “Asshole.”

“It’s only ever small squid holding onto fish that get caught in the nets. I just fire them back into the water. They’re too small to be worth the calamari. Besides,”

Sam added, a soft look in his eyes, “You were the one who told me never to kill them, despite how much you hate them.”

“They’re smart enough to get scared,”

Connor grumbled. “You can’t just go killing them.”

“Fish don’t get scared?”

“Have you seen those soulless eyes?”

The door to the hallway swung open, Nick leaned out. Connor must have looked too relaxed because Nick’s curious look turned sour.

“I’m coming back,”

Connor said, beating him to the chase.

“Dad wants you,”

Nick said briskly. He was gone again in a moment.

“Right.”

Connor started for the door. “Nice chat, Sam.”

His walls resolidified. How this had turned into a normal conversation, he had no idea. They hadn’t had one in years.

Sam caught his wrist in a loose hold, stopping Connor in the entranceway.

Connor glanced at him, already guessing what he was going to say. “My answer is the same.”

But since the start of the conversation, he’d softened; remembered why he’d been so drawn to Sam in the summers, and remembered how much he’d enjoyed his company. “Thank you, though. For offering.”

He couldn’t form the pitch of his voice to make it mean or stabbing. It came out genuine. And he saw the effect that had on Sam. His expression melted entirely; his thumb pressed against Connor’s pulse point.

“Let’s go out on the water sometime,” Sam said.

Connor tensed. Sam shook his head and let go of Connor’s wrist.

“I just mean as friends.”

“And since when were we that?”

The words should have hurt, but they didn’t land. Sam regarded him calmly. “When you get sick of dry land, come join me on the water.”

Connor didn’t want to tell him how tempting that offer really was. How weak he was to it at that moment. Part of him felt as though Sam somehow knew that anyway. That despite Connor doing his best to keep Sam at a distance, he saw every sharp word for exactly what it was: bluster.

Mary waited inside with two takeaway coffees. She searched her brother’s face for answers as they approached, and her shoulders relaxed as she read his expression. When her gaze slipped to Connor, it was like twin daggers were aimed toward him; a reminder of how he’d treated Sam, how he didn’t deserve his help. Connor knew he wouldn’t ever take him up on that offer. He couldn’t.

“See you around, Connor,”

Sam said as they headed for the exit. “Think about it, okay?”

Connor watched them go before making his way into the kitchen. Trevor was bent over the frying pan, turning sizzling rashers. “You were calling me?” he asked.

“Connor, want to tell Laurence what you’ll have for lunch? He’ll put it together for you.”

Trevor called over his shoulder.

Connor searched the kitchen, finding no Laurence. He approached the back door and discovered a small room lined with stainless steel tables, all of them crowded with cake tins and batter. Laurence folded cake batter in a bowl, and grinned at Connor as he walked in. Splotches of flour covered his black uniform.

“Trevor said you’ll make me lunch?”

“What would you like?”

Laurence dropped the soft spatula into the bowl and grabbed a cloth from the table to wipe his hands.

“The goat’s cheese wrap looks good.”

“I’ll have it ready in no time.”

Connor leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “You do all the baking?”

he asked. He thought Laurence cooked with his dad, but seeing all the scattered utensils, Laurence had clearly been making himself busy back here baking.

“I have a talent for it.”

Connor repressed a grin. “You do, do you? And who told you that? Your dad?”

Laurence lifted his chin, a confident smile curving his lips. “Have you tasted the cakes I make? My work speaks for itself.”

Connor chuckled. A small, amused splutter that was more a smile than anything else.

Laurence’s eyes shone, and he beamed, apparently thrilled that he’d gotten a good reaction from Connor.

“Have you tried any?”

Laurence asked.

“Not yet.”

“What are you going to try first?”

Connor hadn’t exactly been planning on trying any, he didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. But it felt criminal to even consider turning Laurence down. “What’s your favourite?”

“The sticky toffee pudding. I make it with dates, and I make the caramel that gets poured on top. It’s delicious.”

“Because you’re so talented. Right?”

Laurence’s smile widened. “Right.”

“What are you doing?”

Nick’s voice came in sharp, hard. Connor swivelled his head to see a vicious scowl directed at him.

“I’m getting lunch,”

Connor said.

Nick’s glare was as lethal as it was tiresome. “And that involves boxing him in there?”

“I’m not—”

Connor glanced in. He was leaning against the doorway, and Laurence was inside the room. His mood tanked. “For christ’s sake, we were just talking.”

He kicked off the doorway, freeing Laurence from where he’d obviously been trapped.

“Nick!”

Laurence’s voice was pitched high in anger.

The raised voice caught Trevor’s attention. “What’s going on over there?”

“Nothing,”

Nick said.

At the same time, Laurence said, “Nick is being mean to Connor.”

Nick shot an irritated look at Laurence, but Laurence’s glare was far more fearsome. Trevor sighed. “Nick,”

he said, leaving the stove to come and stand by them. “We talked about this.”

“Connor was—”

“We were just talking,”

Laurence interrupted Nick, furious. “And you came over and ruined it.”

“Boys.”

Trevor looked between his two sons, the gears behind his eyes ticking as he thought about how to navigate the tensions. Movement at the till caught Connor’s eye. A guy stood there, waiting to pay.

Connor broke away from the squabble to go find out what he wanted. By the time Connor had sorted the bill for the guy, Nick was back, stewing in furious silence. Based on the scowl, Connor guessed he’d been scolded inside. Good.

Nick soon got over his silence: dousing down Connor with every sly insult he could muster. Connor was contemplating violence when they finally flipped the closed sign.

Trevor packed them all into the car to head home. Connor was in the back with Nick since Nick didn’t want him next to Laurence near him. Connor would throw a thousand punches Nick’s way before throwing even a dirty look in Laurence’s direction.

“That’s the busiest day we’ve had since the summer,”

Trevor said. He glanced in the mirror, trying to see them. “How did you two get on out the front? Run off your feet?”

Connor stared out the window and kept his mouth shut.

“It was non-stop,”

Nick said. “Another person would have been helpful. I couldn’t leave the coffee machine for even a minute.”

“Good thing we had Connor today. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have managed,”

Laurence piped up.

“Good thing,”

Trevor agreed warmly.

They returned to the house, and Connor went straight upstairs. An hour later, when he was digging into Orlando, there was a knock at his door.

“Dinner’s ready,”

Trevor called in.

Connor debated just shouting his reply. He pushed off the desk and opened up the door. “I’m not hungry,” he said.

“Oh. Do you want to come down and—”

“No, I do not want to come down.”

Connor should have read something else. Something he liked, that would have calmed his nerves after a day of Nick, instead of a text that frustrated him. But he didn’t want to be calmed. Connor didn’t do forgiveness. He didn’t let things go. He held grudges and hit back and fought.

Trevor looked taken aback for a moment. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Fine.”

Trevor took a moment before speaking. “You didn’t enjoy today?”

Connor almost laughed. “Was I supposed to?”

“A good day of work can feel fulfilling.”

“Not when you’re stuck working with the likes of Nick.”

Trevor’s good humour vanished.

Too far, Connor knew. Trevor loved his kids.

“I’m not eating with you lot,”

Connor muttered. He didn’t give Trevor a chance to scold him. He shut the door and waited. Waited for Trevor to demand he open it, to demand an apology that Connor would go to jail before spitting out. The floorboards creaked outside the door as if Trevor was shifting his weight around, and then footsteps tracked away from Connor’s room and down the stairs.

Somehow that made Connor angrier. Made him feel like a petulant child. He stalked back to his book and tore through several chapters without taking anything in. Footsteps approached once more. The knock was heavy.

Connor closed the book. Despite himself, his stomach tightened. Was this going to be it? The day Trevor kicked him out?

“Connor?”

Trevor called.

Connor got up. They lived together; there was no point in delaying this. Not that Connor ever delayed confrontation anyway. He opened the door to Trevor running his fingers through his hair. Trevor cast a small smile but didn’t get one in return. Connor hardened his features so that he could hide his reaction to whatever spewed from Trevor’s mouth.

“I talked to Nick.”

“Good for you.”

Trevor gave him a long look, but there was nothing sharp in his eye. It was more of a “really?”

Connor quelled the urge to shift his weight. Quelled the stupid anxiety in his stomach.

“If the day went so badly that you won’t even eat with us, then clearly something went very wrong. I hoped by working together, you two might get along better…but I was wrong to just put you two into a shared space and expect you to behave the way I wanted.”

Trevor sighed. “I’m sorry about today.”

Trevor wasn’t the one who made the day horrible. The apology seemed pointless. Maybe this was to apologise for forcing him to work for him in the first place? But that didn’t make much sense either. They made him work with them because they didn’t trust what he might get up to alone. A lecture was what would have made sense; a “word”

about Connor’s attitude.

When Connor kept quiet, Trevor continued, “Nick is going to behave himself from now on. And I hope you can eat with us at dinner tomorrow? Laurence spent the whole evening fretting at your absence.”

Fretting. Like an old maid. He could picture it clearly. Laurence playing with his food, glancing at the door as if Connor might step in any moment. He was too sensitive; Connor could see how Nick had become so protective of him. It would be hard to see that sensitivity meeting the hard edges of the world.

“I don’t want to work at the cafe again,”

Connor said. Nick’s attitude might be the chink in the armour needed to fell Trevor. “I’m not stupid; I’m not going to cause a scene anywhere. And it won’t do Nick any harm to have a break from me on the weekends.”

“I understand where you’re coming from,”

Trevor said carefully. “But Edith and I discussed it and agreed this seemed like the best course of action.”

“For who exactly?”

Connor challenged. “I know the requirements of my probation, and twenty-four-seven supervision isn’t part of it. I only need to be watched to ensure I’m the one doing the work.”

“This way gives us peace of mind,”

Trevor said. He was telling Connor no, and he wasn’t happy to be doing it.

“You can have your peace of mind for tomorrow. I’m not doing this again next week,”

Connor replied. The agitation from the day still pumped through his blood now. Being called stupid and brainless and being treated with so much disdain was irksome. Made worse by the fact Connor didn’t know what he was doing, and Nick was calling him stupid for doing something wrong was because he had, in fact, done something wrong.

Trevor frowned. He opened his mouth as if to object once more, but he sighed. “I’ll have to talk to Edith about it.”