Chapter Text
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Will you two,” Aaron Pittman’s voice was strained but he was clearly trying to sound reasonable, “just shut up already.”
Connor Bennett settled more firmly into his seat, glaring across at Jason Neville. After a moment he mouthed, “Did too.” Jason’s face twisted and he looked undecided if he was going to stoop to Connor’s level but Connor felt what he was pretty sure was a pillow hit him upside the head and he clawed it off his face to see Adrianna Greene glaring at him. There wasn’t much he didn’t like about Adrianna, he’s decided after three days of traveling with her. She was pretty, had a great body and a biting wit that made her just enough of a challenge to be interesting. The fact that Jason Neville seemed to be trying to avoid her as well was just bonus.
“Don’t you even start on that,” Adrianna warned, her voice sexy-firm in just the way Connor liked and he smiled at her.
“Of course, Querida,” he purred, emphasizing the accent that he’d perfected in his years in Mexico. To the locals, he would always sound like a foreigner but he was guessing that to a girl who’d never left the East Coast, he’d sound exotic.
“Really!” There was enough scorn in her voice to make Cynthia sit up, glaring across the car as if she was trying to make sure Connor wasn’t going to far but Connor smiled at the former teacher in what he hoped was his best good boy manner and he flicked his eyes towards Jason, who was clearly furious.
Connor tucked the pillow under the left side of his head and sighed, like it was the most comfortable thing in the world, even if it put his neck at an angle that was just short of painful. He could feel Jason glaring at him even through closed eyes.
“Hey, Dick,” the younger man snapped and Connor tried not to grin as the pillow was yanked out from under his ear. “Give her that back. Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Connor responded, lifting his head enough to glare at Jason. “She was murdered.” Emma’s death would always hurt, he realized, but it was starting to fade from a constant clawing at his heart to a dull ache at the back of his soul. He could tell from Jason’s guilty glare that the retort struck a nerve and he settled back, counting to himself. Five. . .four. . .three. . . .
“I’m sorry,” Adrianna’s voice was soft and Connor heard the rustle of fabric as she moved to sit next to him. “How long ago?”
“A little over a year ago,” he replied, sitting up and smiling sadly at her. “But I didn’t find out until a few months ago, when I first met my Dad.”
He winked at Jason with the eye facing away from Adrianna and watched the other man practically have a coronary in the seat across from him from rage but the woman glared at him. “Jason, have a little respect. I know you don’t like his father much but still. . .I’d think with as close as you came to losing your mother you could at least have some sympathy.”
Jason settled back in his seat, his glare promising potentially violent retribution at their next stop and Connor made a mental note to stay as close to Cynthia as possible and Connor turned back to smile again at Adrianna.
It was childish – baiting Jason Neville – and almost a little too easy but that almost made it more enjoyable and after three days on the train he was so bored he was ready to scream from being cooped up. While his last train trip had been even more cramped in cheap seats, he’d had Charlie next to him to tease and he’d actually enjoyed listening to Miles’ stories about Charlie’s grandparents.
His glare this time at Jason was a little more genuine and he was almost glad the younger Neville wasn’t watching. Despite the time, Jason was still a little more attached to Charlie than he was comfortable with, even if his father didn’t seem worried that his young wife’s exceedingly good looking ex-boyfriend was back in their lives.
Except, he corrected himself, it was more likely that his father was too distracted by everything that had happened lately to fully process what it meant. Connor had to admit that Charlie gave no indication that she had any regrets about marrying Sebastian Monroe but she’d also been distracted and Bass might be a sociopathic former dictator but he was also emotionally delicate – hadn’t that been a trip to learn – and even if Charlie had no regrets, his father was bound to wonder if she did.
He glanced back at Adrianna who looked like she wasn’t sure if should be continuing the conversation or leaving him alone and the way Jason was glaring at them both and he ruthlessly suppressed a smile. Jason Neville apparently had a competitive streak a mile wide and though he’d barely seemed to even notice Adrianna until Connor had started flirting with her, he’d certainly reacted to that.
Adrianna was pretty, Connor reflected. But she and her brother had both been appointed as Colonels in the new U.S. Militia – along with Connor, Charlie and Jason – but her father had also been the last mayor in D.C. prior to the blackout and the whole family dynamic would probably require a respectability and commitment he wasn’t ready for. Jason, he reflected, was practically a walking hormone waiting to find some object to worship, even if he was still convinced it should be Charlie.
He’d be doing them all a favor, he reflected, if he managed to turn Jason’s affection to Adrianna. And if the entire endeavor kept him from of dying of boredom between D.C, and back via Texas and Mexico, that was just a delightful bonus.
He turned back to Adrianna, smiling just a little in the way that had always gotten the girls rushing to his chair in the cantina’s and her eyes sharpened a little so he let a bit of wistfulness slip. Right, he decided, this one wasn’t impressed with the caballero. But she could clearly be motivated by pity.
“Her name was Emma. She had the most beautiful red hair I’ve ever seen.”
Jason twitched in his seat and Connor saw him looking at Adrianna’s hair, which was an auburn-brown. It was a happy coincidence but he smiled to himself that Jason thought he was trying to draw some sort of parallels between the two women. Adrianna’s hair was nothing like the vivid shade of red his mother had usually dyed dark brown before the blackout. Emma had never really wanted to stand out and she’d used the dye to blend in, even if she hadn’t really managed that because her personality had glowed as much as her hair.
Connor felt a very real emotion start to choke at him and he was faking the breaths he took, even if Jason’s sneer implied he clearly felt otherwise.
“She was. . .I. . .I just miss her.”
That was no lie but he settled back in his seat, turning slightly away from Adrianna as if his emotion embarrassed him. There was once a time when they would have; when he had thought his tears were nothing more than a sign of weakness. But learning his father did the same thing seemed to make it more acceptable. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had an excuse – it was genetics – or if it was the fact that since the once hated and feared Sebastian Monroe – now oddly revered since the Patriots had created such a disaster and Monroe had been partially responsible for beginning the clean up – could get away with crying, so could he.
He felt her stand and shot her a half-smile as she sat back in her original seat.
Her smile was completely genuine and she didn’t actually say she’d be there if he needed her but her meaning was clear.
He glanced back at Jason, feeling a tiny flicker of guilt at potentially setting up such a nice person with such as asshole but Jason’s glare was savage and Connor recognized pain behind the rage because he was all to familiar with that himself. The other man was really hurting, he decided, and if Adrianna really was as nice as she seemed, she might be good for him. And, he almost grinned when he recalled the pillow, not one to put up with shit. Yes, they’d do well for each other. If Jason’s misguided devotion to Charlie was any indication, he’d be absolutely loyal once he could be convinced to notice. And if he was drawing conclusions between Adrianna and Connor’s comments about his mother’s hair than he’d already started to pay attention on some level.
He was almost grateful for the fact he was on the verge of making himself cry, because otherwise he would have started laughing at what a bastard he was – and not just because of his parentage.