Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Confounded: Part II - 19. Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19 --==Taylan’s POV==--
It’s not easy to get me at a loss for words but this one had gotten to me completely out of left field. I felt like a huge dick, knowing what I did now and having punished my nephew so harshly. There was no doubt in my mind that he was speaking the truth; I could definitely see how it had gotten him to the point where it’d taken him. And since Kit knew already and hadn’t even so much as said a word to belie what Tom had said, doubt was the last thing on my mind.
I got up and kneeled before my nephew and reached out, pulling me against me in a tight hug, ignoring Kit’s somewhat angered stare when I did.
“Oh Tommy, I’m so sorry…”
I didn’t even know what I was more sorry for; punishing him the way that I had or for him, having had to go through all of that. Alone.
Then the strangest thing happened; Tom pulled out of the hug and sought Kit’s comfort again by turning towards him and burying his face into his chest.
I felt a little lost there, sitting on my knees in front of the both of them, not knowing what to offer that would make it feel better. Even I couldn’t fool myself into thinking I could make it go away.
Gaining Kit’s attention, who had wrapped his other arm around my nephew and held his head to his chest, I sent him a silently mouthed ‘what do I do?”
At first he didn’t seem to understand; then, when he did, he motioned his head to the door. Leave.
**********
“Punishment’s off,” I announced, as soon as I made it back to the living room.
“What? Why?” Mitchell answered, looking up as I approached. He frowned then, when he saw me using the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I plunked down beside him and just leaned over, curling up to him.
“Just…shut up for now, okay? I need you to just sit here and not say a word.”
“Ooookay,” the slow answer came as an arm settled around me. Moving around a bit, I found a comfortable position and tried to relax.
We sat there for some time, with the game sounds in the background before Mitchell reached for the remote and flicked it off.
“Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“Not yet,” I murmured, listening to his heart beating steadily against my ear.
If anything, I needed a constant right now and this was as good as it got. My whole system seemed out of whack after that entire last half hour.
A warm hand cupped the back of my head, the fingers sliding into my hair, slowly beginning a massage.
“Alright, Shorty…talk to me,” Mitchell gently said after long minutes, coaxing me to sit upright. “You’re giving me ideas of hard chairs in hospital rooms here, waiting for news and getting worried sick. What’s wrong?”
I spent the next several minutes relaying Tom’s explanation, watching Mitchell’s face go from concern to horror.
“He’s just a kid…he isn’t supposed to go through that. No one should but definitely not a kid,” he said, pulling me closer to him, letting his chin rest on top of my head. “That boy needs help.”
“Yeah,” I replied softly, “and he’s getting that, from Kit but I’m just not sure if he can handle that sort of thing. We forget sometimes, because he’s like…insanely mature. More than me, at times, which is saying something.”
Mitchell breathed a soft laugh and squeezed his arms around me.
“But he’s still a kid too, y’know. They’re both eighteen but…”
“I know what you mean, and I agree. So how about this; a close friend of mine is a psychologist. Maybe I should give her a call and have her talk to Tom…?”
“Do you think it’d work? You know what Roman told us. The kid has been through more therapists than you have undies.”
“It only takes one good one, shortsy,” came the reply, my petname cleverly adapted. “And she is good. Very good; she talked to Kit when Sienna and I divorced and let’s just say; look how he turned out.”
“Yeah,” I said, nuzzling his throat. “He really is a great kid. I don’t think I’d ever get a better son than he is.”
That one earned me a press of warm lips on my cheek. Then I thought of my conversation with Kit.
“Mitch, there’s something you should know. And maybe you’re not gonna like it.”
“What…?”
“Kit likes Tom. As in…likes. We went to his room, to talk? Before Tom came? He told me about his feelings.”
“I see. So?”
I sat up then, frowning at him.
“You don’t mind?”
A corner of Mitchell’s mouth turned up an notch and he shook his head.
“Nope. Why would I? I think he’d be good for Tom. You’ve seen how they can be, together, once the crap was gone between them. Maybe I’m biased, as his dad, but I think Tom’s mellowing a bit can be directly credited to that son of ours."
He paused there.
"Sounds to me like maybe you have an issue with it..."
“I don’t! I just…well, I thought you might not like my bad boy nephew getting close to Kit and rubbing off on him.”
“That would’ve been a justified thought a month ago, but now…”
Mitchell let his voice trail off and seemed to mull over his next words, as if choosing them carefully.
“I think Tom is, by nature, a good kid. And our son is bringing that back to the surface. So far, I like what I’m seeing, as far as the change in Tom goes. He seems to trust Kit, like you said. Kit’s warming to him…they might end up needing each other like we need one another. Think of how they might end up, then?”
I groaned.
“We’re gonna need lots of o-negative.”
Mitchell threw his head back and laughed loudly.
“Think they gonna fight like we do?”
“God, I hope so…”
“Why’s that?
“Means they care and love each other to death?”
“Good answer. Very good answer.”
“Thank you. I try.”
“Let’s hope they are as good together as we are.”
“Weeeell, I know one thing,” I answered, mischievously looking up.
“What…” it came back, guarded.
“We’ll need a new roof soon; they’ll fuck each other silly.”
That one earned me a quick slap on the back of my head.
“Hey!”
“Sorry. Habit.”
“Well stop it. All that slapping; I think it’s done something to my mind. I’m starting to forget things. Hey, who are you?”
Laughing softly, he nuzzled my neck.
“You’re funny.”
“No, seriously. Who are you, man? You’re cute, I’ll give you that, but that’s no reason to start doing that! Eww! Perv!”
He’d started nibbling on my ear and I moved away.
“Perv? What are you doing; get back here.”
“No?”
“Yes. Let me show you what a real perv does.”
- 25
- 21
- 1
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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