Kate Hewitt - Ruthless Revenge - Sinful Seduction

Alekos followed, his gaze arrowing in on the little boy who sat in front of a computer monitor, his expression closed and wary.

‘Hey.’ Iolanthe smiled and stepped aside so Alekos could come more fully into the room. ‘This is Alekos. A friend.’

Niko eyed Alekos silently. His eyes, Alekos saw with a jolt, were golden-brown, a similar colour to his own. He was slightly built, but then Alekos had been at that age as well. One hand rested possessively on the keyboard.

‘Did you know my father?’ he asked Alekos.

‘I knew of him, but we’d never really met.’ It took effort to keep his voice mild and friendly. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Lukas.

‘You work with computers?’

‘Yes.’ Niko’s gaze flitted towards him and then away again, as if he was uncomfortable meeting Alekos’s eye. Alekos tried not to feel the sting of rejection. He was too emotional for this meeting, too raw. ‘Your mother told me you like computers?’

‘Yes.’ Niko had already turned back to the screen, clicking the mouse, having summarily dismissed Alekos.

‘Niko...’ Iolanthe began. ‘Alekos is here to talk to you...’

‘I don’t want to talk to him.’

Alekos drew his breath in sharply at such rudeness. Iolanthe, he saw, looked pained but not surprised. So his son was badly behaved.

‘He came all this way...’

‘I don’t want to.’ A new, sharper note had entered Niko’s voice and his hand clenched on the mouse. From across the room Alekos could see the tension in the little boy’s body; he was practically vibrating with it.

‘All right, Niko, all right,’ Iolanthe soothed. She threw Alekos an apologetic and faintly panicked glance. He felt as if he was missing part of the conversation; something was happening that he didn’t understand.

‘We can talk later,’ he offered, and Niko didn’t reply. He had started to rock a little back and forth, one skinny arm wrapped around his middle. Iolanthe stepped towards her son.

‘It’s okay, Niko. You don’t have to talk to anyone now.’ She put her hand on his shoulder and Niko flinched away.

‘Don’t.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Biting her lip, she withdrew. ‘I’ll come back later, okay?’

Niko didn’t respond. Iolanthe turned to Alekos and motioned for them both to go out of the room.

Alekos waited until they were back downstairs before he asked the question that was burning in his chest. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

‘Don’t say that.’ Iolanthe whirled around, her expression savage, her voice a crack of a whip that he hadn’t expected. Alekos blinked with the force of its sting.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...’

‘Yes, you did,’ she stated flatly. ‘Do you know how often I get that question? How people look at him?’ She drew a ragged breath and he realised she was near tears. He felt suddenly, overwhelmingly repentant.

‘Iolanthe—’

‘Don’t.’ She flung out one hand as if to keep him distant, even though he hadn’t moved. ‘Don’t ask what’s wrong with him, don’t assume he’s rude or badly behaved or whatever else I could see in your face. You looked...disgusted.’ Her voice trembled on the word.

‘I wasn’t,’ Alekos said quietly. He felt the stirrings of shame. ‘Surprised and disappointed, perhaps. I suppose, unrealistically, I was expecting for a better meeting. Interest, friendship.’ Politeness, at least. ‘I still don’t understand.’

Iolanthe tucked some stray tendrils of hair behind her ears and drew a calming breath. She seemed more composed, resolute, although her face was still pale. ‘I told you he was different.’

‘I know, but I don’t understand why or what that means.’

‘The truth is no one really understands,’ she admitted on a sigh. ‘He’s been to a whole raft of doctors and psychiatrists and therapists over the years. They’ve all had different diagnoses, but none of them really fit.’

‘So you knew there was some issue for a while.’

‘Yes, since he was small. Even as a baby...he had trouble attaching—breastfeeding was impossible, and he never liked hugs or cuddles. He screamed for the first three months of his life, non-stop.’ She spoke tonelessly, reciting these facts as if they didn’t matter to her, and yet Alekos knew they had to have cut her deeply.

‘And later?’ he asked.

Iolanthe let out a deep sigh and sank onto a sofa, her head bowed so Alekos could see the tender nape of her neck. He had the impulse to rest his hand there, rub the muscles he could see corded with tension. He didn’t move.

‘Similar things. He went to nursery for a short while, but he found it too overwhelming, and he fought with the other children.’ She gave a little shake of her head, lost in memory. ‘Forming friendships has always been difficult for him. Not impossible—by that time I’d started attending therapy with him, trying to figure out what was wrong and how to help him. Having a routine made things easier and, as he grew older, coaching him in ways to behave that weren’t rude or aggressive.’ She looked up at him, her eyes shining and damp. ‘He’s come a long way, Alekos, even if it doesn’t seem like it to you.’

‘I wouldn’t make such a judgment.’

‘You already did.’ She spoke wearily, without accusation, but even so Alekos felt a sharp pang of guilt.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that.’

‘You wouldn’t be the first. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on you. It’s just that this kind of thing has been happening for so long.’

‘I understand.’ Iolanthe gave him a small, grateful smile that pierced Alekos to the heart. She was thankful for that negligible bit of grace? And yet he realised that they were actually having a civilised conversation. An important conversation. Standing there, seeing Iolanthe look so tired and disheartened, Alekos realised there were things he could not begin to fathom about her life.

‘Tell me more,’ he said, and moved to sit across from her.

‘What more do you want to know?’

‘I don’t know. Anything.’ He shrugged, spreading his hands. ‘I want to understand.’

She pressed her lips together, her gaze distant. ‘Doctors suggested he was on the autism spectrum, but not all of his symptoms fit the classic diagnosis. Of course there’s a range, but they weren’t entirely comfortable with it and neither was I. Other doctors suggested a sensory disorder, but some of his emotional behaviours didn’t fit that either.’ She raised her slight shoulders in a helpless shrug. ‘In the end they slapped the PDD label on him and called it a day.’

‘PDD?’

‘Pervasive Developmental Disorder. A jack-of-all-trades diagnosis.’ Her smile was wan, heartbreaking. ‘We’ve both coped as best as we can. Taking him out of school helped—it was too much pressure on him to make friends, to behave a certain way. He gets along very well with his tutor.’

‘Where is his tutor? I thought he was going to be here this morning.’

‘I had him leave early, in anticipation of this meeting.’

Alekos frowned. ‘Is that a good idea? If routine is important—’

‘Don’t question me please, Alekos.’ Iolanthe’s voice rose sharply. ‘I know you like to be in control. I know you want to be the one giving the orders. But please, please trust that I might have a better idea of how to handle my son than you do.’

‘Our son, and only because I was kept from being involved in his life until now,’ Alekos returned before he could keep himself from it. Iolanthe flinched.

‘Will you always throw that in my face?’ she asked quietly.

‘No.’ He let out a low breath. ‘But it’s a hard thing to accept, Iolanthe. To forgive.’