Shiver(69)

“This is messed up.” Fox curled his lip into a sneer and fell back against the back of the loveseat.

“I was young, Fox. Scared.” Raven glanced between the two of them. “Still scared.”

“You’re scared of him?” Fox asked with a raise of his brow.

“Yes.” Raven leaned forward, anchored her arms on her knees. “Fox, I’m scared of losing you. I kept your parentage a secret for reasons that I truly believed, at the time—” she flicked a glance at Aidan “—were in your best interest. I did it to protect you. It was a different time, there were circumstances I couldn’t control, and I was very young.” She took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew? Why didn’t you come and talk to me? I thought we could always talk about everything.”

It was Fox’s turn to look down. “He made me promise.”

“Earl?” Raven asked.

Fox nodded then rushed to say, “I wanted so bad to know who my father was, and Mr. Harte was the only one talking.”

“What…what kind of relationship did you have with him?” Raven asked.

Fox shrugged his shoulder, not meeting her gaze, rather he seemed fascinated with the invisible pattern his finger drew on the leather of the couch. “Mr. Harte liked to talk and show me stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

He glanced up at her tone. “It’s not what you’re thinking. He was lonely.”

The hell he was, Aidan thought. Earl had an agenda. He liked being alone, chose to live his life as far from civilization as he could comfortably get. He hadn’t been lonely. He’d either been using Fox, or maybe he enjoyed the kid’s company. Could the old man have mellowed as he’d gotten older and liked the idea of being a grandfather? The thought was hard to swallow, but it was easier to take than knowing Earl had befriended Fox, and kept his relationship from Aidan for the pure evil enjoyment of it. The bastard was probably laughing his ass off from whatever Hell he’d ended up in.

“What kind of…things…did you do with him?” Raven asked.

“Mr. Harte talked, mostly. But he showed me how to do things.” He looked down as though he didn’t want to admit what kind of things.

“Weapons?” Aidan prompted, his guts twisted.

“Uh…yeah.” Fox quickly tried to explain, “He thought it was best that I knew how to protect myself.”

“What kind of weapons, Fox?” Raven asked, her voice trembling.

“Uhm, target shooting, traps, how to blow up stuff.”

“You were playing with explosives?” Raven jumped to her feet. “I have always told you to stay away from that monster. You knew that he killed my dad, your grandfather, by setting off a bomb!”

“Raven.” Aidan rose and placed a hand on Raven’s shoulder, hoping to lend her support and also calm her down. Fox wasn’t reacting to Raven’s anger in a positive way. His lips had tightened, and his breathing came in hard pants.

Turning, she shrugged off Aidan’s hand. “This is why I didn’t want Fox to know about you. I didn’t want him anywhere around that sadistic bastard.”

“He wasn’t like that!” Fox yelled, getting to his feet too. “I liked him. He treated me decent. He told me that Grandpa Fox’s death had been an accident, but nobody would believe him. They just blamed him. And you would have kept me away from him.” Fox pointed an accusing finger at Raven. “Just like you kept me away from my father!” He turned and ran out of the cabin.

“Fox!” Raven rushed to follow. “Fox, come back here.”

Aidan grabbed her arm. “Let him go.”

Raven turned on him. “Don’t tell me how to handle my son.”

Aidan felt like she’d slapped him. He released her and took a step back. “Our son.” He left her standing there, knowing if he didn’t get away he’d do or say something he couldn’t recover from. In the arctic entry, he grabbed his coat and noticed Fox’s smaller one still hanging on the hook. He grabbed it and slammed the door on his way out. Hearing the sound of the door crashing in its frame soothed the snarling beast inside him.

He found Fox with his dogs. It was where Aidan had always gone as a boy, until Earl had killed Nugget. Fox was on his knees, his face buried in the thick fur of Lucien’s neck, the Husky taking the kid’s weight and grief like a champ. There was a reason a dog was considered man’s best friend. No other being on earth loved unconditionally like a dog.

“Hey,” Aidan said as he approached, giving Fox time to wipe his tears, pretending that he didn’t notice his son had been crying, though the thought of the troubles wracking Fox, caused pain to tighten his belly. “You forgot this.” He handed Fox his coat. “It’s more than chilly out here.” By his calculations, and the white plumes of air his words produced, it had dropped to twenty below.