by Michelle Day
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Wayward Son
Book Three of the Jensen Family Series
By Michelle Day
Text copyright © 2015
Michelle Y Day
All Rights Reserved
To Yana and Stephen.
My life, my heart, my inspiration.
Cover courtesy of: Kerry Heavens
For the Unholy Trinity
Prologue
Stumbling backwards, one hand covering his nose from which blood cascaded, he came to an abrupt stop when his back met the wall. His ears were ringing and he was seeing stars, yes stars. Like the ones in cartoons. He was looking hard for the little blue bird that usually accompanies them when his hearing returned, the sounds of wet thuds reaching him, spurring him in to action.
Spitting out the blood that had pooled in his mouth, he tried to ignore the pain in his face as he moved cautiously forward. The patented Novak bear hug and heave hadn’t worked the first time which was why his nose was now of the broken variety. This time when he reached out he grabbed a handful of hair and the back of a t-shirt and pulled back with all his might only wrapping his arms around his struggling friend when he was sure he had a firm enough grasp.
Sagging in Novak’s arms, his adrenalin rush fading as fast as the red mist that had clouded his vision, Gavin asked in a cold, emotionless voice “Is he dead?”
Letting his friend slump to the floor, Novak lent over the inert male that Gavin had taken a dislike to and felt for a pulse. “He’s still breathing but he’s a mess Gav.”
A shout of, “hey, what’s going on there?” brought Novak upright. Curse his golden blond halo of hair for catching the light. The next thing would be sirens. Oh, there they were, that was quick.
“We need to get out of here.” He reached for Gavin, now crying silently. “Gav, come on.” Pulling the younger boy to his feet, he wrapped an arm around him and pulled him away from the scene but not before Gavin saw what he’d done.
“Shit. What have I done? I should stay here, talk to the police.”
“Not without a solicitor you don’t. Your old man would crucify me if I left you to face the music now come on.”
Chapter 1
He’d been sitting here for hours. How many he didn’t know because they had taken his watch, along with his belt and laces before putting him in this stark room.
He had plenty of time to reflect on just how much his life had changed in a few short months. Leaning back against the wall, resting his sore hands on his legs, he closed his eyes as his grief threatened to overcome him. He hadn’t given in to it yet and he had no intention of doing so any time soon.
Instead of focussing on that, he cast his mind back to better times. Times spent with his best friend, the one he classed as a brother, Novak. The same person who had persuaded him to hand himself in once he’d got a tenuous tether on his temper.
Remembering the good times they had enjoyed together. The band they had formed with two other friends James and the quiet Canadian Ed, or Mystic as Novak had christened him. Due to his propensity to disappear but always turn up in time for rehearsals and gigs. And of course there was the après gig entertainment.
Gavin smiled. None of them were shy and had spent many a memorable hour with the ladies who frequented the bars they played in. It was during those times that his friend had introduced him to the joys of the threesome, foursome, moresome. No, wait, the threesome part at least had happened before then with their comely neighbour Cara.
He’d known Novak all his life so climbing the ladder to their loft den and finding the big blond male naked wasn’t exactly a surprise. They had shared almost everything since he’d been born, why would this situation be any different?
Cara was comfortable with them. She enjoyed them both equally but she particularly enjoyed the times she spent sandwiched between them. Part of him felt guilty about using her like they did. They both dated other girls from time to time and indeed Cara would bring to the loft any number of girls or boys, whichever took her fancy at the time, she wasn’t fussy. They would also pick out people for either each other or Cara and developed a habit of watching her in action before getting a piece of it for themselves.
Those things were in the past now. Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. Waking up each day, thinking everything was alright but then remembering that his world had ended, was a living nightmare. Those first few minutes of each day were the only time he felt normal before the crushing weight of his unexpressed grief returned to crush the breath from his lungs as he fought the daily battle with his emotions.
There was a very real possibility that he was going to spend some time behind bars for what he’d done last night. He didn’t know the man he’d beaten bloody, the man he’d been told was currently in hospital preparing for extensive surgery to his face. His temper had overcome him and it had only taken the merest hint of a nudge to get him to flip. And flip he had.
If, by some miracle his solicitor managed to talk him out of jail time, his life was still going to change. His mother was gone. They had buried her less than a month ago. His home was being sold. He was being ripped away from everything he knew and everyone he loved to live with his father and his new step mother. Maybe time behind bars wouldn’t be so bad after all.
He already had a juvenile record thanks to the fights he’d had at one school or another. As was the way these days, he’d been expelled despite otherwise being a model pupil and his behaviour had been reported to the police. It was only thanks to some fancy footwork by the solicitor he was currently waiting on that he’d got away with just expulsions so far.
Standing as the door to his cell was unlocked, he met the eye of the burly officer sent to escort him to the interview room. Yeah right, because he’d get so violent in a police station that they’d need the heavy mob to fetch him. It must mean his solicitor had arrived.
His father could be seen pacing in the waiting room as Gavin was pulled to a stop. Looking at each other through the glass, Gavin could see that Paul was frazzled and at the end of his tether. He couldn’t find it in him to care. Paul was the one responsible for taking him away from his home and the years of hurt his mother had endured. Gavin knew his father would do anything to help him but surely that was just to save face and his precious reputation. Wasn’t it?
He was allowed a few moments alone with Jake, his solicitor, an extremely well appointed man. Jake pressed him for details and circumstances but Gavin’s memory was hazy at best. All he really remembered was overwhelming rage and Novak’s arms wrapped around him.
When Jake told him that not only was his victim in surgery but Novak was too, Gavin frowned and questioned why?
“You broke his nose, it’s a mess. So much so that he’s having plastic surgery, at your father’s expense I might add, so that he looks as he always has.”
Shaking his head, deep in denial “I didn’t punch him.” Gavin stated.
“You elbowed him.”
Turning his arm over, Gavin stretched and looked at the back of it. A bruise was forming alongside a memory. “Shit. Explains the bruise and why his fa
ce was a mess.”
“Violence is not the answer. I can probably get you off what with your current circumstances but I imagine there will be heavy provisos that come along with an acquittal.”
Gavin shrugged. “Prison might not be so bad.”
“Prison is not a place for you. Someone with a temper problem like yours won’t see the light of day again. Trust me on this. Speak when spoken too. Be honest. Brutally so, tears will help your cause and we’ll get through this.”
True to his word, Jake managed to avoid any custodial sentence for the time being other than Gavin being released into the care of his father. There was however, to be a closed hearing with a judge which would decide Gavin’s fate. Handing the boy over to Paul didn’t ease his fears at all. Paul was tense. Gavin was quite literally vibrating with animosity.
Taking Paul to one side, Jake faced him. “You need to keep a handle on him at all times. There’s only so much I can do within the bounds of the law. He steps out of line again and they’ll lock him up. He may still do a small stretch, that all depends on how contrite he is when he appears in front of the judge tomorrow. As far as tonight goes. Keep him under lock and key.”
“I’m trying here Jake. He’s a law unto himself and he absolutely hates me right now. If I have to watch him all night, I will. We’ll be there tomorrow and he will be contrite. I hope.” Paul paused. “I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
“You need to step up buddy. He might be giving you hate vibes but he needs you, he either doesn’t realise it, or doesn’t want to admit it but you are all he has now. You two need to find some common ground and work from there. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The following morning, after a peaceful night because Gavin didn’t say a single word all evening, Paul climbed out of Suzanne’s Volvo and waited for his son to exit before locking it. He’d prefer to leave it open and running in the hope that someone would steal it away but thought the better of getting on the wrong side of his new wife’s temper.
His hand made suit was at serious odds with the faded silver paintwork and peeling lacquer of the car. Looking over the roof as his son straightened, he forgot his dislike for the car and focussed on his boy. Gavin was pale. The animosity of the previous night had gone, to be replaced by a silence that was more unnerving than his previous and overtly obvious silent disapproving hatred.
Gavin leant back against the car and stared at the building in front of him. This morning would decide his fate. He’d like to say he didn’t care what happened to him but of course he did. He didn’t want to go to prison. Right now, more than anything, he wanted to apologise to the stranger he had beaten and offer some way to help. His guilt was eating him alive but he had no way to voice it. He had taken the small amount of grief that he had allowed to show and turned it against his father, his brother and a total stranger. He needed a hug right now but the only person’s arms he wanted to feel around him was dead and buried. He was lost.
He was put on the spot shortly after Jake stopped talking. Recalling the details of last night was difficult, not only because of the emotions it stirred up but because when in a rage, Gavin had little recollection of what had happened. He sought permission from the judge to visit his victim as he recovered in hospital and offer a sincere and heartfelt apology. He was given a severe dressing down by the judge and was told in no uncertain terms that his circumstances and obvious guilty conscience over what he’d done were the only things keeping him from a term behind bars. His situation was described as exceptionally mitigating.
As part of his penance and upon hearing that Paul would be removing him from the county, Gavin was told that should he return, he would have to report to the local police and advise them of the reason for his visit for the next ten years. If during that time he found himself in trouble again for using his fists instead of his voice, he would be taken in to custody.
Gavin took a seat when the judge’s attention turned to Paul. He received a thorough dressing down and almost repeated word for word what Jake had said to him the previous evening. Paul had every intention of stepping up, he just needed his son to give him a small sign that he was beginning to crack and allow him in.
As he turned the key and waited for the Volvo to rumble in to life, Paul muttered “Well that told me!” Referring to his dressing down from the judge. He glanced across at his son and could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smirk. “Do you want to do this now?” He asked.
Gavin nodded. He didn’t really want to do it at all, he needed to do it, for himself, for the man he’d beaten.
It took a while to gain access to the room containing his victim. The call from the judge’s staff had been slow in coming. Finally gaining access, it was left to Paul to make the introductions and make the initial apology.
When Gavin found his voice, he was eloquent, humble and his apology was sincerely heartfelt. Paul was impressed. Gavin’s shoulders slumped visibly as his victim gallantly accepted his apology and sympathised with the boy for the loss of his mother.
The next stop before they started their journey to Kingston, would be considerably more difficult. Gavin was out of the car in a flash as it pulled to a stop outside Helen and Novak’s new residence. Novak stopped when he saw his friend and dropped the box he was carrying to his garage conversion apartment.
Helen joined Paul, a small child propped on her hip as they watched their sons embrace before Novak threw the box at his friend and they vanished inside his garage.
“How is he doing?” Helen asked while shifting the child to her other hip.
Paul sighed. “I presume he’s coping. He currently isn’t talking to me.”
“He can stay here you know.”
“She wanted me to care for him and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve never been beaten by anything Helen and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a teenager beat me.”
“You will be gentle with him won’t you?”
“As gentle as he allows me to be.” Paul confirmed. “How’s Luke?”
Helen huffed out a laugh. “Making the most of the sympathy he’s getting over his injury.”
Inside the garage, Gavin dropped the box he was carrying and looked around. “This is actually a cool space.” He breathed in, fresh paint and newly sawed wood, nice. There was racking on the walls holding Novak’s surf boards, Gavin’s was amongst them too. His wet suits hung next to his boards.
There was an upper level where Gavin found his friends bed up a newly constructed flight of stairs. A small bathroom was in the process of being built just off of the bedroom. Leaning over the bannister, Gavin looked down at the living area below. A large, comfortable looking sofa took up most of the area, a low table containing drawers rested in front of it, all angled perfectly for the massive plasma television attached to the wall. A gift from Paul. A fridge and a small counter top stove took up the back corner. His friend would be self-sufficient.
Running down the stairs and flopping onto the sofa next to Novak, he looked over as his friend concentrated on his current favourite video game. “You have a man cave dude.”
Novak smiled but didn’t take his eyes from the game. “That I do.”
All too soon it was time to leave. Novak wrapped Gavin in a hug and spoke quietly to him. “Things will get better bro. You just need to learn to chill a bit. Try not to give your old man too much of a hard time ok? He loves you man, he’s doing what he thinks is best. It sucks balls but it’s his decision and maybe getting away from here will be good for you.”
Nodding into Novak’s shoulder, Gavin found he was battling tears. “You know I can’t come back for a while?”
“Yeah, I’ll be down to see you. Don’t worry about that. I’ll miss you brother.”
“Novak. About your face.” Gavin stammered as he added another layer of guilt to his conscience.
Laughing, hugging his friend, Novak replied “Forget about it, you wouldn’t believe the advantages of being injured. You’ve done me a back-handed favour.”
The journey home had never felt so long. It wasn’t all entirely due to Gavin’s sullen silence and refusal of food either. God damn the Volvo was slow. He actually had time to take in the scenery as he mashed his way through the gears and tried to encourage the Swiss engineered tank into something that would resemble speed.
The electric gates were standing open when he finally guided the car into the driveway. It shuddered to a stop, almost with a sigh of relief. Suzanne was standing with the front door thrown open as they climbed from the car. Paul stretched his aching body as Gavin reached for a duffle bag.
“I only need this for tonight.” He turned to look at Paul. “I’ll empty the car tomorrow.”
“Good idea.” Paul nodded. That was the most Gavin had said to him in weeks. He bent to kiss his wife’s cheek and was just about to tell Gavin he’d show him to his room when again the boy spoke.
“Hi Suzanne.” He offered his new step mother a tight smile. “I’ll find my room. I’ll shout if I need anything.” And with that he hot footed it up the stairs.
Stepping into his wife’s arms, Paul buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent as he held her tight. “He hates me.”
“He needs time.” She soothed. “You know I’ll help wherever I can.”
“Thank you baby.”
Standing in the middle of the two rooms that had been designated as his, bag still clasped in his hand, Gavin was contemplating doing a runner. He had no idea where he would run to. He couldn’t go home. He had no money anyway. Shaking his head, he first turned towards the bedroom and dropped his bag on the large four poster bed. He couldn’t deny that he liked it. A lot. Running his hand down one of the wooden posts, fingers following the carved indents, he appreciated the beauty of the piece and how it carried its dark wood stain.
There was a small chest of drawers next to a door which he presumed was a closet but no, he had his own bathroom. No more sharing for him. He stood in the centre of the tiled room and for the first time in recent memory, he smiled slightly. This was nice. Next he walked through the bedroom door to a sitting room. Here there was a large couch and an even larger television attached to the wall. In the corner stood a desk on which stood three cardboard boxes. From the manufacturer branding, it was obvious a new desktop computer was hidden within the boxes.