Page 83 of Goldilocks
Sam recognised the man even at a distance. The American guards that worked at the facility had been all over the news, so at some point this man’s silhouette – even with his face hidden beneath a baseball cap and aviators – became instinctively familiar.
“He’s a friend of yours, right?” Sam double-checked.
“Liam. He’s not my friend,” Austin said. “He’s—” He cut off. “He’s whatever.”
Sam pulled up before they reached the car. “I don’t need to drop you off here if you don’t want to meet with him.” Sam tried to read Austin, but that felt so impossible that he almost shook himself for trying. The only thing he could read from Austin was that the guy was a live-wire of hurt and anger, and the whole world was going to get it from him.
“Why are you interested in Goldilocks?” Sam asked.
He fully expected to be snapped at and for Austin to storm off, but Austin didn’t. He remained sitting, staring at Liam, who was watching them, his pose relaxed. Austin wasn’t relaxed. “I’m not interested in him,” Austin said. “I don’t care about any of them.”
Despite Austin’s previous actions counteracting that fact, the words somehow rang true to Sam. Austin spoke with mean conviction.
“So, why did you want him to be interested in you?” Sam asked instead.
Austin’s jaw clenched, the muscle so tight that Sam could hear bone on bone as his teeth ground together. Whatever the answer, it wasn’t simple.
“I don’t think they have any concept of genetic manipulation,” Sam spoke when Austin didn’t. “Or anything advanced like that. But they called you a siren.”
Austin’s face jerked toward Sam. “What?”
“When Goldilocks was an asshole to you.” Sam winced. “It wasn’t because of what Cessair did. He said it was normal behaviour for his kind. Me and him are together, so he was just being a dick to you because he thought it would make me happy. And Adonis doesn’t like you because you’re Connor’s ex-boyfriend.”
“And what about those other two?”
“I’m sure you were a dick to them first.”
There was a flash of something in Austin’s eyes, anger and embarrassment, and his cheeks turned from their pale ivory to a reddish hue. “So what if I was?”
“So don’t go blaming everything on your blood. They recognise you as their kind, sure, but that doesn’t mean they hate you. But you can’t expect them to be nice to you just because of that either. It’s not as if they all get along with each other either. Has anyone told you about over there yet?”
Austin stared at Sam as if he were going to try to tear out his eyes. Instead, he nodded, chin jutting down in a small jerk. “Connor,” he admitted. “Some. And Liam took pictures to show me of the sky.”
“I’ve been through with Goldilocks. He has a villa on the coast. It has its own personal pier for ships, and in the distance, you can see a city.”
“City?” For the first time, a flash of something other than unrestrained anger filled Austin’s eyes.
“I haven’t been there yet, but from the people I’ve seen, there’s just as many ‘other’ things as there are plain old humans.”
“What other things?” Austin leaned forward, and the seatbelt caught his shoulder. He unclicked it with an impatient grunt, all his attention on Sam.
Sam listed the names he’d heard, nymph, goblin, fae, and then described some of the people he’d seen himself. The strange and the wonderful. “The city is ruled by a pair of mermen brothers,” Sam said. “One governs, and the other likes to fight, I guess?”
Austin prompted Sam for more information. More descriptions. More everything. In the end, he sat back, and Sam recognised a brewing plan when he saw one.
“I can bring you,” Sam offered. If Austin was so petrified of beingotherover here, then maybe being over there, whereotherwas the norm, might help him relax for a change.
Austin blinked several times as if pulling his mind from a daze. “Why do you keep approaching me? Trying to be all…nice.” Austin said the wordniceas if it was the worst thing in the world a person could ever be.
Sam huffed, amused rather than stung. “According to my cousin, I’m secretly a masochist who likes to be yelled at and insulted.”
Those lines formed again between Austin’s eyebrows. “Give me an actual answer.”
Sam bet if he said he felt bad for Austin, always seeing him alone, that he would be pissed. Or if he said that seeing those slim shoulders alone on the dock set his feet moving even as his mind told him he was about to get himself into trouble. “You just keep entering my field of view.” Sam shrugged. But he could see in Austin’s face that the answer wasn’t good enough either. So he stopped himself from giving the answer he wanted to, stopped himself from brushing it aside. “I’ve been lonely,” Sam said. “And you looked lonely too.”
Austin stared hard at him, as if deciding whether that was a lie. Whether he was going to get angry about it or not.
“Then” – he sounded hesitant – “it isn’t an ego thing?”