Page 38 of Consumed
“I like you, Con. A lot. I feel more comfortable around you than anyone I’ve met. Like, you definitely have my back when we’re out in the field, but we can also sit in a car or a hotel room or wander around antique stores, and I’ll just want to be where you are.”
Con let out a long, noisy breath. “Ditto,” he whispered. “I don’t know exactly where I’m going emotionally right now. It’s been quite a week. So I can’t tell you… well, when or if I’ll be ready for something more physical. But no matter what, I’d really like you as a friend.”
Isaac reached over to squeeze Con’s knee. “Good. It’s all good, Con.”
“Salvation.”
“Huh?”
“My parents named me Salvation. Conrad was my middle name.”
That made Isaac huff a small laugh. “My middle name is Nirvana. Given to me well before Kurt Cobain used it.”
“Who?”
“Oh, dude.”
They spent the next hundred miles listening to and discussing grunge music.
Later, when Isaac was driving and darkness had embraced the desert, Con leaned his seat back and thought about what Isaac had said about his parents.Even their bad decisions were made with good intentions.Couldn’t the same be said about Con’s mother and father? They had been rigid and judgmental, they’d cut him off from most of the world, and they’d rejected the fundamental aspects of his psyche so thoroughly that he still couldn’t fully accept himself. However, they’d done these things not out of cruelty per se, but rather out of the misguided but sincere belief that this was how to ensure Con’s eternal salvation.
God, if he could forgive orcs, couldn’t he find it within himself to forgive his own flesh and blood?
Maybe.
Not tonight, at least not fully. But something had softened inside Con, as if maybe the process had begun.
* * *
It was nearly midnight by the time they reached HQ, and the parking garage was mostly empty. They retrieved their belongings from the back of the SUV and then stood there, surrounded by echoey concrete. “The boss is probably around if you want to check in now,” Isaac said.
“He can wait until tomorrow. I’m beat. And you need your rest too. You’ve been overdoing it for someone with a recent concussion.”
Isaac grinned broadly. “Are you going to keep on nannying me even now that we’ve completed the mission?”
“Somebody has to.”
“Do you feel comfortable letting me kiss you before we go?”
Con smiled back. “Very comfortable.”
* * *
When Con got home, he dumped everything onto the couch, changed into swimming trunks, and padded out back for a swim. Yes, he was exhausted, but the buoyancy of the water felt good, and the movement eased the travel-kinks from his muscles.
There were a few household chores to catch up on, like going through the mail and getting groceries, but they could wait. It was wonderful to climb into his own bed, beneath the quilt he’d bought at a crafts fair a few years earlier—but it was weird to have a bed to himself. He missed sleeping-Isaac’s company. And he’d wait for another time to analyze what that signified.
Although Con arrived at HQ a little after nine the next morning, Isaac—predictably—did not. Con busied himself in the Antarctic, surveying the evidence that had come in while he was in Arizona and triaging it for analysis. There was a baggie full of large scales that especially intrigued him; he looked forward to reading the report that accompanied them.
Then the door opened and Isaac strolled in.
He wore a suit, slightly rumpled, without a tie, and he still hadn’t shaved. And man, Con felt a little thrill, knowing exactly what those whiskers felt like against his own scarred cheeks.
“It’s freezing in here,” Isaac announced.
“Why did you think everyone calls it the Antarctic?”
“Because it’s full of penguins.”
