Confounded: Part II - 37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37 --==Tay’s POV==--

It wasn’t easy to keep a straight face when the boys finally showed up in the kitchen. Holy hell, that’d been really something. Both me and Mitchell had finished our very positive call to Roman and had gone back outside, finding the boys gone and instead heard the racket coming from Kit’s room; the curtains were drawn and upon a check, the door was securely locked. It’d taken Mitchell a few seconds less than me to actually catch on at what exactly it was what we were hearing.
Then the snickering had started.

“Go, son, go!”

“Wow, do we go at it like that?” I’d grinned, equally snickering. “Sounds like he’s killing my poor nephew.”

“That’s my boy,” it’d sounded beside me, the snickering continuing. “Show him who’s boss!”
That earned him an elbow in the ribs.

“Maybe it’s Kit making those sounds; you don’t know…”

“Oh, believe me; that’s definitely not Kit. My son is a top, I guarantee it. He’s definitely his father’s son. And Tom seems to be a real Slattery. Needs to be shown who’s boss.”

“Pfft! You’re such a pig, sometimes.”

So when the boys showed up, Tom first, Kit right behind him, I couldn’t resist; it was just too good an opportunity to pass up!

“I’m surprised, Tom,” I muttered, unable to keep myself silent for much longer. “I’d expected you to come in here crawling, not walking. Need an icepack? Inflatable cushion?”
His obvious discomfort at having been found out had me go in stitches.

“Shut up,” he hissed under his breath, going for the coffee I’d made, a full pot waiting on the counter.
Turning towards Kit, who had already filled a mug, I grinned and he narrowed his eyes at me, suspiciously.

“Oh look, and there he is; our resident quarterback. He runs, he scores!”
I punched the air as I said it. He just blinked, completely unperturbed and raised an eyebrow as he sat down on one of the barstools.

“I think you’re confused, but that’s to be expected from a wide receiver.”
That one caused Mitchell to almost spit his coffee back into his mug.
“At least we now know 100% for sure that he’s definitely related to you.”

“How’s that?”

“Let’s just say being loud seems to be something of a family trait with your family.”
Oh-hoh! I grabbed my heart in a gesture of feigned shock. Mitchell began to snicker.

“That’s such a load of…”

“Oh, shut up, Tay,” Mitchell said, winking at Kit, “go down with some dignity when you’re bested.”
Kit grinned at that and raised his own mug in silent salute. Inclining my head, I admitted defeat, winking at him.

“Alright, I know when I’m beaten.”

“Since when?” it came from both father and son at the same time.

“Whatever. Ok, guys, here’s the deal; Tom, Mitch and I called your dad.”
Color drained from his face and he slumped down beside Kit, who frowned at his reaction.
“Now, I know you and him agreed to talk on Wednesday, when you called earlier, but it’s been moved up a bit. Instead, he’s coming tonight.”

“Wait…” Kit said, frowning deeper, throwing an inquisitive look to his left, “you called your dad? And you didn’t tell me?”
Tom kept quiet at that and for a second I wished I hadn’t divulged that little bit just now. Apparently he hadn’t told Kit. So I felt obligated to defend him.

“He was probably waiting for the right moment, Kit; give him a break. Even so; Tom, I think you’ll wanna hear what we talked about.”
His head came up at that.
“Mitch? This is your idea…why don’t you tell him?”

It was Mitchell who’d come up with a solution. Frankly, it hadn’t even entered my mind to try that avenue, until he actually said it out loud, during the conversation with Roman.

“Right,” Mitchell said, turning to my nephew, “Well, before I say anything else, I need you to know that Taylan filled me in on all of what’s happened to you. Miguel, your dad, Jay…everything.”
Tom’s gaze flicked to me for a second; then he nodded.
“Okay, so we think that you going back there, continuing as if nothing ever happened is just not going to work. And even if you and your dad can work it out, there’s still Jay. Speaking for myself, and Tay; we wouldn’t be able to do that. It’s too much. So… Tom, we think you should come live with us.”
I grinned and nodded when Tom’s head shot up, first looking at me and then Mitch. Beside him, Kit simply gawked.

“Nothing would really change,” I said, “you’re already with us, and you’re not intruding all that much on our personal time or space. Well, not anymore. And I know of a certain someone who would definitely not be against it.”
I winked and looked at Kit; nope, definitely no argument there! Even as the words left my mouth, an arm of his came up and went around Tom’s shoulders, a big smile on his face.

“Definitely! That’d be awesome!”

“Figured you’d say that,” I muttered.

“You and your dad need time apart,” Mitchell interceded before we got too much off track here. “Rebuild the father-son relationship, which takes a lot longer than a talk on Wednesday. It might be better to do that from afar, instead of forcing you to go back home. Aside from that; you’re a young adult. Even if you did move back, I could be quite wrong, which I doubt, but you’d be out of that house as soon as you could manage it. Live on your own, and there’d be nothing Roman could do about it. But starting your adult life that way…”

“You’d have the wrong start…” I nodded, agreeing there. I shuddered to think where he might end up, then. Some rundown apartment in a bad neighborhood, trying to make ends meet and too proud to ask for help.

“Exactly. So we figured we’d talk to Roman and make him see reason. That’s why we called your dad.”

At that, hope appeared in Tom’s expression as he kept alternating between me and Mitchell. And I couldn’t bring myself to even tease him any longer, or keep him waiting for the answer my brother had given us. Reluctantly.

“Yes Tom, he basically agreed. But there’s a few conditio…”
Whatever I wanted to say next was completely drowned out by Kit, who shoved his stool back and grabbed my nephew in a bear hug that left nothing to the imagination as to how he felt about all of this. The barstool clattered loudly on the tiles and I rolled my eyes at Mitchell, who winked back at me.

“Kit!”

It landed on deaf ears. He paraded around the kitchen, with my nephew clutched to him like some ragdoll, and I couldn’t help but wince in sympathy at the pained expression on Tom’s face; I knew those damn hugs of his.

“This is gonna be great!”

“Yes, Kit; now let the toyboy breathe for a minute, ok?” I answered dryly, shaking my head at the sight. “We’re not done yet. You can play with the puppy later.”
Mitchell snickered.

Be it reluctant, it seeped into Kit’s brain that he was behaving like a lunatic, and he lowered my nephew to the floor. But not before he’d kissed the kid senseless. Even I felt dazed after.
Returning to the bar and picking up the stool, he sat back down, not letting Tom go anywhere else but right in front of him, his arms locked around him, fingers knitted on his stomach.

“Right, where were we….?”
I frowned, having lost track of the conversation.

“Conditions,” Mitchell supplied, helpfully.

“Ah, yeah. Okay, so there’s a few conditions. You're legally not obligated to agree to any of this, but to live here, we think that One: you’ll see the psych. That's non-negotiable. A least a few appointments.”
Tom’s face fell at that, but he grudgingly nodded.
“Two: College. You’re going. I don’t care what you choose, as long as it’s at UCLA and you’ll better graduate Cum laude.”
Disdainful smirk but another nod.
“Three: work. You’re going to work at grandpa’s, as your dad’s PA. That'll give you time with him regularly. And you’ll put in the hours without any complaints.”
Soured expression, still a nod.
“Four: chores around the house. You’ll keep your room clean and all that nonsense.”
Just a nod.
“Five: Alternate weekends at your parents.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not while Jay’s there.”

“Then the deals’ off,” I said, shrugging; as if he had a choice. Well, he did, of course, but...really?

“Fine, then I’ll go have my wrong start.”
I stared at him.

That little shit…calling my bluff?