Newt gulped. Not quite 24/7.
By the time they’d been through everything they thought he needed to know, his head was throbbing. He’d made a lot of notes on his phone.
“Don’t forget,” Max said, “if any letters come for him, addressed to either Leo Miller or River Lawson, forward them to me.”
“I will.”
Daniel started to tell him about the days the bins were emptied, what to put in them and where to put them, and that there was a key for the box where parcels were left, when he went quiet. Newt turned to see River slowly limping towards them, a scowl on his face, his right arm hanging limp at his side.
“River!” Linda sprang to her feet and went over to the hob. “Minestrone soup. Your favourite.”
River slumped onto a chair next to Max, glared at him, then glared at Newt. Even with that belligerent look on his face, he was gorgeous, but very pale and thin. Though when River managed a half-smile for Linda as she put the soup in front of him, Newt suspected he wasn’t as bad as he wanted everyone to think.
“Did Newt tell you he’s a language specialist?” Maxasked River.
Er…No and not really. But Newt didn’t contradict him. And it made him wonder what Max had said when he went up to River on his own. Wouldn’t he have told him that then?
River didn’t react.
“He’s going to live in the house and help with everything,” Max continued. “Cooking, cleaning, laundry… But especially your speech.”
River scowled.
“You need a greater vocabulary than the two words you seem fond of repeating ad nauseum. You’re not going to push Newt away. I’m paying him, not you and if you want to retain me as your agent, you’ll treat him better than you have everyone else who’s tried to help you.”
River didn’t speak. He kept eating the soup a little at a time with the spoon in his left hand. Newt could see even doing that was an effort. He was probably right-handed. Newt felt sorry for him and he knew that if River guessed that, he’d be even more difficult to handle. Newt had to tread a careful path. But hedidfeel sorry for him. The world had been at River’s feet and he’d lost almost everything. Hopefully only temporarily. Newt understood what that felt like. His experience was different but even so… They had losing dreams in common.
Four
River managed most of the soup and half of the sandwich before he gave up. He didn’t have much appetite but it wasn’t just that. He was used to Linda and might have eventually become used to Max’s father and now they were leaving him with some smart-mouthed, disturbingly cute stranger. River was already irritated because he’d failed to piss the guy off. The bastard even had the nerve to mock him!
Driving people away with his behaviour was one of the few pleasures he had. He wasn’t stupid. He knew it was a control thing when so much in his life was out of his control, but his world was currently shit and he’d take satisfaction where he could find it, even if it was in acting like a child.
He wished Linda wasn’t going. She reminded him of his own mum who he tried very hard not to think about. Now Linda was leaving, he regretted every sulky face he’d shown her, regretted not making more effort to say the wordsthank you.Max was lucky to still have her.
River went to the front door as they were going.Try to thank them!“Toonip,” he blurted.Shit.That wasn’t right. He tsked and clenched his fists. The frustration of having the right words form in his head, then not have them come out of his mouth was getting worse every day.
Linda put her arms around him and hugged him. He stiffened. He couldn’t help it. She noticed and pulled away. She’d only hugged him a couple of times because she knew it made him anxious. He didn’t even know why.
“Don’t give up, River! You’ll get there,” she said.
He wasn’t so sure. And get where?Back to where he’dbeen before he’d fallen? Was that possible? He suspected he’d been told his prognosis in hospital but at that point, he hadn’t fucking understood a word. Now he could understand better, Max hadn’t said much to him about the state he was in. River had the feeling he was being careful about what he revealed. River might not be stupid but he was worried. If the future looked bleak, he needed to know.
After Max and his parents had gone, he slunk up to his bedroom. He’d thought Max had intended to stay for a while, though he might have got that wrong just as he had with a lot of things. Now he was stuck with this stranger. Yet another person being paid to help him, this time to live in his house, and River had no say in the matter. Even worse, he was attracted to Newt, which was not a good thing. Green eyes, dark hair, almost as slender as River, a few inches shorter and a mouth that tormented in more ways than one. But Newt was dangerous and untouchable. Like a bomb. But not ticking. Not yet anyway. Shit, maybe he was.
River didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone with eyes that colour that weren’t contacts. Bright green eyes like Newt’s were rare. His eyelashes were long too. He’d look even better with eyeliner… All smoky-eyed and sexy and… River gasped as his cock thickened. He didn’t know whether to be pleased or horrified. Nothing had stirred for all this time andnowhis cock decided to wake up?
He had a sudden panic that he was going to be beset by unexpected erections, which Newt would notice and give him grief about.Fuck!He curled up on his bed. It seemed inconceivable that only a few months ago, his life had been normal. Fine, a privileged life. Nothing much normal about it. Only now he didn’t have a life.
In the circumstances, he felt exaggeration wasacceptable.
There had been improvements. The miracle of waking a month ago, to find himself able to mostly understand what people were saying had been so overwhelming, he’d sobbed. He might not yet understand everything he was told, but he understood enough.
He’d stupidly thought that the rest of him would be sorted just as quickly, that he’d find himself able to speak and read and write and maybe develop an extraordinary ability in something weird, like being fluent in Russian, as if a magic wand had been waved. None of that had happened. He had the words in his head—not Russian words, but they always came out of his mouth sounding wrong. Apart fromfuck off.At least that was something to smile about. Briefly.
Except now he had something to add to his list of worries. When Max had come up to the media room, he’d told him the Croatian police were still looking into what had happened. There was some question about the chalk marks on the rockface. River still didn’t remember that day, but he did know that there was no way he would have trusted any hold that wasn’t marked. How had they convinced him to climb, even though he now understood that Barney had been ill? Who had convinced him?
His throat thickened as he considered the implications of what Max had said. Had someone tried to kill him? That was crazy. He wanted to ask if Max had seen the footage, because the fall had been filmed, but River couldn’t make him understand. Or maybe he did and chose to pretend he didn’t.
