Mom bit her lip as she sat on the edge of the bed beside me, her eyes scanning over my face like she was assessing the state of my injuries.
“It looks worse than it is,” I said, letting her take that double meaning whichever way she chose. I meant it both ways, but she chose to focus on me while my father continued to stare Solo down.
“Oh baby,” she said, her chin quivering as she lightly touched my face.
I could feel the tension in the room, so thick you could cut it with a steak knife. Solo cleared his throat where he stood in the corner of the room holding his clothes and blankets over his practically naked body, though he didn’t seem uncomfortable about that fact at all.
“You good?” he asked me, and when I nodded, he returned the gesture. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll give you all some privacy. I’ll be next door not listening through the thin wall, so don’t say anything I wouldn’t.” He grinned as he slipped out of the room, but when he saw the steely expression on my father’s face, it dropped slightly.“I’ll see you around, Captain Hughes.”
My father raised an eyebrow. “Hopefully not as…muchof you.”
Solo chuckled. “Right.”
As soon as Solo was out of sight, my father finally stepped inside and shut the door firmly behind him.
Here it comes…
“I thought I told you not to associate with that young man.”
“Can we not talk about—”
“The fact that your door was just opened by a fellow trainee of yours who was practicallynaked?”
The contempt in my father’s tone had my blood boiling, and before I could stop myself, I fired back, “Considering the time of day, don’t you think you should be grateful he didn’t answer the door fully naked?”
“Grant Fredrick Hughes,” my mother said as she reached for my hand and patted it, no doubt trying to calm me. But I wasn’t in the mood. I’d close to died days ago, and the first thing out of his mouth was this shit? Fuck that. “You know your father is just worried about—”
“Himself?” I sat up a little straighter in bed, wincing at the effort. “His reputation? Oh yes, I know he’s worried about that, Mom.”
“That’s enough, Grant.” My father’s voice was like a whip cracking in the room, and as I looked at him, spine ramrod straight, grim set of his lips, I almost felt bad for running my mouth—almost. “The last thing you need to do right now is get worked up.”
“Worked up?”
My father let out a sigh and walked closer to the bed. “Would you stop being so defensive for one minute and let us take a look at you? Your mother has been worried sick.”
Low blow.But damn if it wasn’t effective. If there was one thing I hated to do, it was worry my mom.
“I’m sorry,” I said, as I turned my attention back to see her eyes wandering down over my shirt.
“Come on, I want to see the worst of it. Show me,” she said, and gestured to the hem.
As I raised the material up past my ribs, to where the blue and purple bruises were the darkest, she winced and reached out to gently run her fingers over the raised welts of skin.
“My poor boy,” she said, shaking her head. “Why didn’t you call us when you woke up? We would’ve come and taken care of you. Brought you home so you could heal and be somewhere familiar.”
And have to deal with my father twenty-four seven? No thanks. I’d take Solo and his bad poker and never-ending chatter over my father’s steely silence any day.
“I’m fine, Mom. They postponed the course for a couple of weeks and I just need to rest up and take a few physical therapy courses.” Which I was so not looking forward to.
“Well, I could drive you to and from those. I don’t work anymore—”
“Mom, it’s okay. I’d really much rather stay on base.”
“Stay on base? Or stay close to him?” It didn’t take a genius to work out which “him” my father was referring to, and with the mood I was in, I didn’t really see the point in beating around the bush.
“If you mean Solo, then yes. I do enjoy his company. He’s a good friend—”
When my father grunted, I narrowed my eyes.
