Page 28 of Bitter Heat
“I can drive myself.”
“Don’t be a turnip-head, son.” Pater put his hands flat on the table. “I’ll drive.”
“No. I’ll go alone.” Kerry shivered and wrapped his arms around his body.
If the Monhundys even saw Pater in the hotel lobby, their irritation at being reminded of Kerry’s connection to the mountains could sway the direction of their lunch conversation in ways that would leave Kerry at a strategic disadvantage for the coming months.
“Now look here, son.” Pater’s cheeks flared with blood, heat in his voice. “You made your choices the other day all on your own, and look at how that went. Today, you’ll let me drive. Whether you like it or not.” He hammered a fist on the table.
“Don’t get upset,” Kerry said, trying to soothe him. “I just don’t want you to abandon your responsibilities. Who will be here when Janus comes home? He’ll need dinner.”
Pater shrugged that off. “We should be back long before the priesty returns.”
Kerry couldn’t argue. Janus’s days with Dr. Crescent usually went quite late into the afternoon. If they hurried, and if Kerry managed to achieve his objectives in a quick lunch with the Monhundys, they’d be home before Janus. Pater could serve him cold cuts if necessary.
Kerry closed his eyes. If only this day was already safely behind him, like all the trying days of his past, and he was seated at their cozy table ready for dinner with his pater and a handsome alpha who didn’t terrify him quite the way he should. Kerry knew he was foolish to feel safe with Janus already, and yet he couldn’t deny that he did. Janus had such gentle hands, and he hadn’t even scolded him for what he’d done. At least not yet.
“Time’s a’wastin’,” Pater said, glancing toward the clock over the stove. “We need to leave now if we plan to make it there by lunch.”
Kerry read the note from his in-laws over again. The message truly was an order, not a request. While the Monhundys would never stoop to putting their threats in writing, they always managed to phrase things so that Kerry remembered everything he had to lose if he disobeyed. The most important thing he could lose—the right to remain here in the mountains with his pater away from the city and the memories—being the largest weapon in their arsenal. Holding things over each other was how things worked in that family.
Wilbet had been good at reminding Kerry of everything he’d given him, and all that he could take away, too. Though not quite as good with subtle threats as his parents. He’d been too thick-headed to play it smart, always so reckless and clumsy in his abuse. Kerry supposed that was how the police had caught Wilbet in the end. Cruelty combined with stupidity was destined to be uncovered. If only Kerry hadn’t been so quick to look the other way at first, to excuse and accept excuses for both Wilbet and his parents’ spitefulness, he could have avoided his current predicament.
Not that there hadn’t been warnings aplenty, even from the other omegas at the Philia soirees. Other omegas had pulled him aside at more than one of those splendid parties and warned of Wilbet’s nastiness. But champagne had buzzed in his veins, near enough to love, and the thrill of a future laced up with brilliant, untold opportunities had bogged up his wits. Wilbet, after all, had treated him so gently and grandly, at first. Gifts, and compliments, and nuzzles in dark corners. They had gone for wild car rides at night, romantic kisses under the moon, and sex that had been pleasant if not mind-blowing.
Kerry picked through these memories like shiny river rocks. Finding that once picked up, green slime covered the underside. Then he pushed them all aside. He had to keep his wits about him now.
Retrieving the small, green car from where they stored it in an outbuilding near the edge of the garden—along with the tiller, clippers, and household tools—Kerry tried to think of other ways to keep Pater from going all the way down the mountain with him. But in the end, he gave up. After what he’d done with Fan’s pills, the risk he’d taken on his own, there was no way out of Pater’s escort. He wouldn’t trust Kerry to drive down to the town alone. Too many appealing dropoffs, perhaps.
Convincing his pater that he didn’t want to hurt himself, that he was pastthatat least, was pointless right now. He’d been reckless. This overprotective companionship was the price they would both pay for his poor choice. Now he needed to focus his mind on how to make sure he paid the price today only, and that he wouldn’t be forced to pay even more by spending his pregnancy in the city.
With Pater driving, the bouncing of the car on the rugged roads caused Kerry’s bruised body to ache all over. It was a wonder the babe still clung to his womb. He was a determined little thing. Much like Kerry himself, he supposed. Kerry clung to the bar above the door as they jolted along the horrendously bumpy road.
At least the weather was nice.
They kept the windows down, the breeze raking Kerry’s hair into a wild bird’s nest. But the fresh air pouring in was somewhat calming, even if his hands still shook when they finally drove past the sign announcing they’d entered Blumzound.
It was a tiny town, really, with a small raft of modern houses built in a group after the railway had come through about five years back. Trade had picked up, improving the lives up-mountain to a degree with more easily obtained goods and services. But for the most part, Blumzound was still just a blip on the surface of the world.
The town’s houses and main street were tucked around the eastern base of the mountain, crouched between the slope and the curve of a dark, gray river called the Blum. The hotel stood at the opposite side of town, near the railway station.
“Drop me off here,” Kerry said, as they pulled up to the front of the four-story structure. The tallest building in Blumzound. “Park around back, Pater. I’ll meet you there when it’s all over.”
“Oh, no. I’m coming in with you.”
Kerry turned to him then. “Please, Pater. You’ll make it worse.” He hated to be so blunt. His pater liked people to consider him likable and, in the past, had striven quite hard to make a good impression on the Monhundys in hopes of altering their feelings toward him. His failure to do so was something that caused them both pain.
“I see.”
Kerry used a mirror and a brush they kept in a compartment between the seats to straighten out his hair. The tangles hurt, but he didn’t let himself wince, angrily tearing the brush through, trying to gather his rage into a shield. “Aren’t there errands you could run?” He began to tick some off. “Refuel the car. You could buy some more tea and sugar. Stock up on candles.” He tied his hair back and hesitated before adding, “Purchase some soft material for paternity clothes for me? I’ll be needing some soon. And other fabric to make clothes for the baby.” He touched his stomach, his throat going tight.
Pater leaned over then and pushed a stray lock of hair behind Kerry’s ear. With shiny eyes, he examined him up and down, and finally nodded his head. “All right, son. I’ll let you handle this on your own. I suppose I don’t have a choice about it, much as I’d like to go in there to protect you from them. Legally, I have no legs. And they don’t respect me much, anyhow.”
Kerry squeezed his pater’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
Pater pulled away, shooing Kerry’s apology off. “Don’t sign or agree to anything you don’t want to do.”
“I won’t.”
