Saving Isadore [MxM] (An Alpha's Fight Book 1)

Chapter 18

AARON ¤ POV 

-PRESENT-

The faint smell of marijuana wafted through the kitchen and out into the hall from the back door leading out into the garden. I quietly closed the front door, not even bothering to check the clock on the wall above the staircase quietly ticking away - a reminder that I was arriving well past my curfew. 

Although I knew that my efforts would be in vain, I tried to keep my footsteps light as I crossed the open space towards the steps. The fact that I could smell my father’s chosen method of stress relief meant that I was either in deep shit, or he was stressed over something else that would spill right over onto me. But I seriously wasn’t in the mood to be lectured.

My foot pressed into the carpeted first step for merely a second before I heard my name. “Aaron! Don’t play games with me, boy! Sit your ass down at the table!” Fuck. I winced at the sharp bark to my dad’s voice and let out a sigh as I turned and slinked into the kitchen. 

Dad had stubbed out his blunt and shut the back door, trapping the remainder of the smoke in the small space. His dark brown eyes were simmering as he watched me plop down in one of the chairs. His bald head shone under the warm light above us and his muscled biceps bulged as he crossed his arms and leant against the counter, staring me down. The flick of his tongue over his lip piercing was one of many indicators of his frustration. I had the decency to feel some guilt for staying out late, but I wasn’t ultimately sorry. 

“Where were you? It’s almost one in the morning on a school night,” he grunted, voice low. I tensed, many different answers running through my mind, most of them not so truthful. I was studying at Oliver’s and lost track of time. Twenty-four hour libraries were a thing, old man. I’d fallen asleep at an omega gathering at another of my classmate’s houses…. we painted each other’s nails and squealed over hot alpha’s in Hollywood. 

“Don’t lie to me-“ 

“I didn't say anything!” I gasped defensively, narrowing my eyes and he simply mimicked my gaze, unfazed. 

“You didn’t have to, you’re my son, I can read you like an open book,” he reminded me, moving closer and pulling out one of the chairs beside me with a large, strong hand. I looked away, rubbing at my temples. For some obsured reason, my eyes stung with tears I desperately tried to hold back. 

“I was with Oliver,” I mumbled and it was the truth. I’d played football on the astroturf after school with my friends, then followed Oliver home and never left. We’d done everything but study, from eating, playing music and video games, to gossiping and scrolling through our online socials. I had a feeling that Oliver was trying to distract me and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what from. 

He and Isadore had gotten close and I was jealous. So insanely fucking jealous that it twisted my heart everytime I saw them together - which made no sense. It had been a month since I’d pushed him away, since that day in my hospital room I called him a monster. Because he was. He was a child murderer and he was violent and I didn’t need him beating on me after what Landon did. At least… that’s what I kept trying to convince myself. 

But then why did it make me feel so… so fucking lonely and distraught every time I looked at him? Why was I so jealous of their friendship and why did I still want to reach out to Isadore even though I knew it wasn’t meant to be? Watching him from afar like a creep had only made me feel worse. Because Isadore seemed to be perfectly fine, if anything he seemed better than before I started talking to him. His broad shoulders weren’t so hunched, his hazel eyes weren’t so dull and he actually smiled more than I’d ever seen in the almost seven years I’d known him. The expression lit up his brown skin until he looked golden and it made my stomach blaze with affection I couldn’t stomp out.