Page 68 of The Chameleon

“Guys, I’m going to have to let you go. I’ll see you all in a few days. Try not to kill each other,” Matteo said, pressing the disconnect button on his tablet.

“Is that your family?” Jorge asked, taking a step out onto the back porch.

Matteo sat on an old patio chair, taking in the morning dew.

“Yeah, they’re a collection ofpains in the assI gained over the years.”

“They sound like they really miss you.” Jorge sat down on the empty chair and wrapped his jacket tight around his body. His bruise looked better today, and the dark circles under his eyes didn’t look quite so dark.

“I miss them as well. My parents died a while back, so it’s just been me all these years. It’s nice to have a second chance at having a family with these guys. Many of them are like you. They came from abusive families or were battling addictions while living on the streets. I gave them a safe place to stay and helped them get clean if they needed to. Many of the guys I’ve taken in have decided to stay and ended up working for me eventually as well.”

“So, you’re some kind of hero?” the boy asked, glancing shyly at Matteo.

That was strange. The boy almost looked confused and unsure.

“Hardly. Given all the bad things I’ve done in my life, I don’t think anyone would describe me as a hero.”

“That’s not true,” Ares said, popping his head out the door, wearing an apron covered in flowers. The man looked ridiculous. “There’s a house full of untrained puppies that would argue differently.”

Matteo blushed. He didn’t like it when Ares said nice things to him. It confused him and made him feel all…mushyinside. Plus, he was still mad at the asshole.

“Breakfast is ready if you guys want to come in,” Ares announced, waving a spatula around like he was Martha Stewart or something.

Jorge glanced over at Matteo as if asking for permission.

“Let’s go inside. He might look rough and stupid, but his cooking is actually pretty good.” Matteo placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and walked with him into the cabin.

23

MATTEO

They had spent the day playing board games, munching on snacks, and listening to Ares complain about every little ailment that afflicted his body, from his sore back—score one for the couch—to this weird clicking in his knee when he bent his leg a certain way. Matteo didn’t mind the complaining; at least he wasn’t telling him how stupid he was for taking in someone he didn’t even know. He wasn’t going to apologize for being a good Samaritan.

After dinner, they decided to sit down and watch a movie together. Apparently, Jorge had never seenDie Hard, which, coincidentally, was also Ares’s favorite movie of all time. Go figure.

So, it was decided—Die Hardfor the win.

Groaning, Matteo tried to ignore the pain in his knees as he straightened up from the tiny shelf that held the random selection of eighties movies.

“Not a spring chicken anymore, are ya?” Ares teased.

“Still younger than your old ass,” Matteo retorted.

Ignoring the lot behind him, Matteo threw the old video tape into the VCR—yes, he still hadn’t replaced the vintage videomachine that had been sitting in the cabin when he purchased the place—and pressed play.

“Dammit,” Matteo huffed, pressing stop on the machine when the movie started playing in the middle of the film.

He pressed the rewind button, then waited patiently, crouched on his knees for the video to rewind. “This is one of the reasons people got rid of these damn machines. You never have to rewind DVDs.”

Jorge let out a chuckle.

He wondered if the boy had a DVD player at home or if his family was still using a VCR machine as well. Judging by the boy’s appearance, Matteo guessed that the family would have prioritized food over luxury items… at least, he hoped they did.

“I’ll get us some snacks while we wait.” Matteo stood, doing his best to make it seem like his knees were not bothering him—fuck Ares and his cocky half smile—and made his way into the kitchen.

He glanced over his shoulder at the two: Ares sitting in the armchair looking like a grouchy old man and Jorge sitting on the couch, phone in hand, texting away. Was this what married life could have looked like had he and Ares not broken up? His husband lounging in his chair while their son played on his phone, ignoring them like all teenagers do.

But Matteo had that at home—minus the husband. He had a mansion full of sons, all playing on their phones, annoying one another, but always there for each other when it really mattered.

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