by Onley James
Elijah’s hands flailed. “What? No. I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to be rich.”
Shep shook his head. “My parents aren’t rich. Comfortable, maybe. They are both tenured professors at Berkeley, but my mother’s textbooks are the standard curriculum for several behavioral psychology programs throughout the country and she gets paid a great deal of money to guest lecture.”
This time Elijah knew he was the one making the weird face when Shep said, “Why do you look like you’re trying to disarm a nuclear missile?”
“It’s a strange coincidence that your mother studies sociopaths and psychopaths and then she gave birth to one.”
“You’ve got it backward. My mother was finishing her Master’s in Sociology with an emphasis on women’s studies when she first became… concerned with my behavior. When she realized what I was, she became obsessed with ensuring I wouldn’t become a statistic. All of this…” he gestured towards the house. “Came later.”
The door opened before Elijah could ask another question. A woman with a gray braid that curled over her shoulder, a long floral dress and china-blue eyes beamed up at Shep. She couldn’t have been over five-foot-five. She grinned at them both before raising her arms up to hug Shep. He bent down to scoop her up, lifted her from the ground. “Hey, mom.”
Something squeezed in Elijah’s chest seeing the fond look on Shep’s face. Was his affection for his mother real? Could it be? Elijah always dreaded run-ins with his mother. She would never look at him the way Shep’s mom had looked at him.
When Shep returned her to her feet, she patted his face. “Hi, baby. I hope you’re hungry. The whole family came to see you.”
Before Shep could respond, she was turning her gaze to Elijah. “Oh, my. I never thought I’d have a bonafide celebrity in my house, much less as a guest of my son. Well, not this son anyway. Mac, well, we never know what he will bring home. He’s like a tomcat. Sometimes he brings home a rat.”
Elijah laughed. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Shepherd.”
“Dr. Shepherd,” Shep whispered.
Molly threw a perturbed look at her son. “Oh, God. Please don’t call me that. I’m Molly. Just Molly, please.”
She stepped back, allowing them entrance. They only took two steps before Shep’s family swallowed them up in the crowd. Elijah was used to being mobbed by people, but never like this, never by people with no agenda. He’d never experienced a large family before.
When Shep’s mother put an arm around Elijah’s waist, he draped his arm around her shoulders without thought as if he were posing for a photo. His cheeks flushed at his mistake, but she didn’t even notice. “Okay, back away from the boy before you damage him. I’m sure he’s worth gobs of money. Elijah, this is my daughter Katie and her husband, Brandon. These are their sons, Thomas and James.” Elijah gave a slight wave, Katie appeared to be in her late thirties with bright red hair but shared her brother’s same golden eyes. Her husband was a short man with a receding hairline and a bow tie. Their sons were thin like their father with sharp features, but they had their mother’s eyes. “This is my sister, Fiona and her husband Owen and the tall one back there with a pint of Guinness in his hand is my husband, Padraic.”
Elijah had only a moment to acknowledge Fiona and Owen, his gaze dragging to Shep’s father almost against his will. The man was a mountain, five inches taller than Shep, at least. That put him at close to six-foot-nine. With his ruddy complexion, bulbous nose, and long frizzled white hair and beard, he looked like Santa Claus in a maroon cardigan.
“Moving up in the world, I see,” Owen crowed at Shep. “Hobnobbing with celebrities and whatnot.”
“Well, I couldn’t stay a military grunt forever,” Shep said, plastering a grin on his face. He looked at his mother. “I’m starving.”
She beamed at him like feeding Shep was her only goal in life. “Dinner will be ready soon. Your father’s cooked enough red meat to feed a horde of barbarians,” his mother promised.
Shep’s father loomed over Elijah. “You’re not one of those vegans, are you?”
Elijah shook his head. “No, sir.”
His father grinned as if Elijah had passed a test, smacking him on the back hard enough to send him stumbling forward a bit. “Oh, good. Seems like everybody in California has signed a waiver giving up meat and dairy in favor of grass and almonds. Fucking hippies.”
Molly scoffed. “Language, Padraic.”
“Fucking bohemians. Better?”
She rolled her eyes and looped her arm through Elijah’s. “Why don’t we let them get caught up and you can help me in the kitchen. Ask me your questions about this new role of yours.”
Elijah’s gaze snagged on Shep who was laughing and joking with his teenage nephews. It was odd watching him outside their bubble, looking animated and engaged. He had seen it before, but it was just so convincing. Maybe somebody should put Shep in a movie? Elijah’s stomach rolled, unease trickling down his spine. Which one was the real Shep?
Elijah allowed Molly Shepherd to drag him away but felt the need to warn her, “I don’t think I’ll be much help in the kitchen. I can’t boil water.”
“I’ll sort out the food, you can just ask your questions.”
“Deal.”
The kitchen was airy, with bright blue cabinets and a blue and white tile backsplash that seemed the perfect backdrop for Shep’s mother. She moved with practiced ease, almost like she was one of those chefs who hosted a cooking show out of their home.
As she moved about the kitchen, her sundress swirled around her ankles. She seemed both young and old to Elijah. She was clearly in her mid-sixties, but she had only a few lines at the corners of her eyes and along her forehead. The only thing that gave away her age was her long silver hair and a sparkle in her blue eyes that gave the impression she knew far more than she ever let on.
“Okay, how can I help you? Jaynie said you had questions about sociopathy for an upcoming movie role?”
Elijah could give two fucks about the movie role at the moment. He was there to learn about Shep, but he couldn’t very well say that. “Yes. My questions will seem sort of basic compared to the things you talk about, but I’m starting from scratch.”
“That’s how we all start,” she said, giving him a reassuring pat on the forearm before turning to pull bowls of potato salad and macaroni salad from the double-wide fridge. Shep’s mother was the most unprofessor-like professor Elijah had ever encountered, but his only frame of reference was professors in movies. They tended towards a lot of typecasting, all tweed, wire-rimmed glasses, and sensible heels.
“What’s the difference between a sociopath and a psychopath. Is it that one is more violent than the other?”
She gave him a patient smile. “Both can become violent given the right circumstances. A sociopath has limited empathy and can form some level of attachment. A psychopath lacks the ability to feel empathy, guilt or remorse and can never form any meaningful attachments. Sociopaths are more prone to violent outbursts. As criminals, they are often sloppy and impulsive. They often stay on the fringe of society, with very little career success.” She spoke as though she’d given this answer a thousand times. “Psychopaths, are charming, manipulative and patient, and often successful. Twenty-one percent of CEOs are psychopaths,” she said as if discussing the weather. “They are great at faking emotions and many marry and have children and never commit a violent crime. If the psychopath in question commits a crime, they will likely plan it down to the last detail and you will only get a confession if it benefits their egos.”
Shep didn’t seem prone to violent outbursts, he was not sloppy or impulsive. And he was out there faking his heart out like a professional. Was Shep a psychopath?
Elijah jumped when Shep’s mother placed a hand on his arm. “You seem upset. That was an info-dump, huh? Is there something you’re not understanding?”
“Are all sociopaths like you say?” Elijah asked, heart in his throat.
“Yo
u’ll never find a person that mimics one hundred percent of the criteria for sociopathy or psychopathy and with proper conditioning, many sociopaths can build on that small shred of empathy or guilt that lives within them. I believe we can teach them to control their impulses, to harness their conscience and create a somewhat normal life. I’ve based my entire career on this theory.”
It all sounded so bleak. “Can sociopaths fall in love?”
Molly leaned forward, propping her arm on the counter and her chin on her fist, examining him the same way Shep often did. “You know, don’t you?”
“What?” Elijah asked, his gaze falling to the butcher block countertops.
“You know about my son. That’s why you’re really here.”
Elijah wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that. He just gave a stilted nod, before chewing on the inside of his lip until he tasted blood.
“Do you— Do you have feelings for my son?” she asked with a breathless hopeful tone as if she was both excited and wary.
Once more, he nodded.
Her gaze became hazy as she drifted off into her own thoughts. After a minute or two, she asked, “And he brought you here to meet me? Does he know about your feelings?”
“Yes.”
“Does he seem to reciprocate these feelings?” There was no mistaking the interest in her voice now.
“I think so,” Elijah managed.
“Well, now. That is very interesting.”
Elijah cut his eyes to hers and her face went soft. “I didn’t mean it like that, dear. This is just something new for my son after so many years. As a scientist, it’s an anomaly, but as a mother, it’s wonderful.”
“But it’s not real. His feelings for me, right?”
“My son is a sociopath, but he’s not your typical sociopath. I have gone to great lengths to ensure he has as full a life as a person like him can. He’s undergone extensive behavioral modification from the time he was very young. In many ways, my teaching has given him similar characteristics to a psychopath if one knows what to look for. The biggest difference is that my son can form attachments.” Her expression darkened. “But—”
Elijah’s heart plummeted into his stomach. “But?”
“Jaynie has only shown emotional attachment once in his life and… it ended badly.”
“Like their body is fertilizing your azaleas badly or he just stops returning my calls out of the blue one day and I wear black and become a sad Elijah meme?”
She chuckled. “I can see why he likes you.”
Elijah’s heart fluttered in his chest until she sobered. “He doesn’t process the little emotions he has the same way as most people. He can be… obsessive. When he’s decided something belongs to him, it is almost impossible to get him to disengage. If somebody tries to hurt that thing or take that thing from him, he will fight back… possibly with violence.”
Elijah stared at her, waiting for her to continue. “What’s the bad part?”
She shook her head. “I’m sure it all sounds very romantic. I may have thought the same thing at your age, but what if you decide you want out of the relationship? What if one of your screaming fans gets overzealous? What if somebody rear-ends you? It doesn’t have to be intentional. It doesn’t have to be even a large slight. My son will respond to these things with the same impulse. Protect what’s his by any means necessary.” She gave him a pitying look. “Being the object of my son’s affections is a huge responsibility.”
Elijah shook his head, refusing to believe that Shep would just snap over any little thing. If that were the case, he would have skinned Lucifer and wore her as a pair of pants. “I’m not afraid of him.”
She did that staring thing and once more Elijah was shaken by how much she looked like Shep. After a moment, she stood straight and shrugged. “Okay, I can see there’s no changing your mind about this. But I think we should all have a talk, just the three of us. Not tonight. Tomorrow, when the house is quiet.”
Elijah felt a shock of adrenaline run through him. “A talk?”
“Yes. A nice… long… chat.” She gave him a smile that chilled him to his core. “About everything.”
“Okay,” he managed.
Once more, she grinned. “Great. Grab a bowl. Dinner’s ready.”
Elijah suddenly had very little appetite.
Something was wrong. At dinner, Elijah regaled Shep’s family with stories about his movie roles and delighted his nephews by promising them autographs of their favorite celebrities. But in the quiet moments, when the others were caught up in their own stories, Elijah seemed uneasy, throwing worried glances towards Shep and his mother. Had she said something to upset Elijah?
Once dinner ended, and they’d cleaned the kitchen, Shep’s mother led them to the guest house just steps away. “You’re both adults, I figured you could use your… privacy.” She looked to Elijah, who seemed to pale beneath his tan. “There are two bedrooms, should you need them.”
Before either of them could say a word, she was already walking away. Elijah gave Shep another odd look and then he headed toward the room with the king-size bed. He opened his overnight bag grabbing clothes to sleep in. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
Shep watched him walk into the bathroom and shut the door before he sat on the edge of the bed. What could have happened between the plane and now that had the boy so upset? He could hear the water running, knew he should have waited or knocked, but he didn’t. He turned the knob and entered. Steam hung heavy in the room, fogging the mirror, saturating Shep’s t-shirt and jeans until they felt heavy and damp. “Did my mom say something to upset you?” Shep asked the curtain.
Elijah yelped and then stuck his head around the curtain, glaring at Shep. “Jesus. Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?”
Shep closed the toilet and sat on the lid glancing up at Elijah who was slick and naked with suds clinging to his dark hair. A strange feeling settled into his chest. He was so beautiful. Perfect. His. “No,” he said.
Elijah snorted a surprised laugh. “You’re so weird.”
“So you’ve said. Did my mother upset you?”
Elijah disappeared behind the curtain. “Not exactly. No.”
“Did she tell you that we shouldn’t be together?” he asked, a quick flash of anger igniting his blood.
Elijah snatched the curtain back and gave Shep a long look. “Get naked.”
Shep blinked at the rapid change of direction. “What?”
“Do I need to talk slower? Get naked and get in here,” Elijah said, disappearing once more.
Shep stripped, stepping over the lip of the tub and ducking under the curtain rod. Elijah’s hands were on him immediately, skimming his chest, before cupping his face. “Kiss me.”
His anger dissipated in an instant as Elijah’s lips found his. The boy melted against Shep, their naked bodies pressed together under the heat of the spray. When Elijah broke the kiss, he stepped back, taking in Shep’s naked form. He ran his hands along the plains of his abdomen, his thumbs tracing the V of his hips, his gaze seeming to snag on Shep’s cock before he dragged his eyes upward. “You’re very… proportional,” Elijah managed, licking his already damp lower lip. He handed Shep a white cloth. “Wash me.”
Shep did as Elijah commanded without question, soaping up the cloth and running it over the sculpted muscles of his back. Shep took his time, washing Elijah like he was fragile, which is how he felt. Fragile. Like this thing between them was finite, breakable, like the universe could rip it from Shep at any moment. When Elijah turned to face him, water clung to his lashes like diamonds, highlighting the brilliant silver-blue of his eyes. Shep ran his thumbs over the boy’s cheekbones, his need to touch him overwhelming.
“Your mom knows about us,” Elijah said.
“Okay.”
“She… she wants to talk to us—to both of us—about everything” Elijah said, fingers air quoting the last part of the sentence.
A million scenarios ticked th
rough Shep’s brain. His mother wasn’t one to mince words. She always spoke plainly and honestly… at least with him. He couldn’t imagine what she wanted to discuss with them. Would she tell Shep to end it? Would she say that involving Elijah in his life was reckless? She’d cautioned him as a teen to avoid pulling people into his… experiments. To not play with them. Had she told Elijah about Shep’s childhood? The things he’d done before he’d learned to control his impulses? The faintest echo of panic shot through him. He wasn’t willing to end things with Elijah.
“Did she scare you away?” he asked.
Elijah scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, we can’t see each other anymore. This is our goodbye shower.”
Shep’s mood curdled, and he frowned at Elijah. Some part of him realized it was sarcasm, but even hearing the words unnerved him.
Whatever Elijah saw on his face had him pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Shep relaxed then, the tension leaving his shoulders as Elijah shook his head. “I’m kidding, babe. So, you’re a sociopath. All relationships have issues. It could be worse. You could be a republican.”
“I am a republican,” Shep said, keeping his face neutral.
When Elijah’s jaw dropped open, Shep smiled.
“Was… was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?” Elijah asked, staring at Shep in fascination.
“I’m programmed to make all kinds of jokes,” Shep intoned.
“Haha. A cyborg joke? Now you’re a comedian. How do I turn off this feature?” Elijah quipped, running his hands along Shep’s back as if looking for his off button. “I like being the only funny one.”
Shep gripped Elijah’s wrists, getting his attention. “Seriously, what did my mother say to you?”
Elijah hesitated, then said, “Take me to bed first. I’m getting pruney.”
They finished their shower, drying off and throwing on underwear but nothing else. They stared at each other awkwardly as they pulled back the covers and crawled into the huge bed. Shep had never shared a bed before Elijah. He’d done nothing before Elijah. It was such a simple thing to just lie beside each other, but it felt like a heady thing, like an act that carried weight.