Project Apollo: Book Two ✔️

Chapter Two

Apollo Diaz

The breakfast table was quiet. Too fucking quiet. Mama was hardly bothered by the presence of Jason, and neither was my father. But my friends were glancing in his direction–not daring to be discreet about it either. As for me, I kept my looks to a minimum. Anytime I reached for my coffee cup, I'd glance at him over the rim, and leave it there.

Now was one of those times when I gently grabbed the handle of my mug, tipped it to my lips, and analyzed the boy who seemed like he'd rather be in a sinkhole than sitting with my family for breakfast. I watched the way he'd flicker his eyes to Emery as if he was going to pull him out of his own personal Hell. And I supposed that was what he entered. His own little personal Hell by being in my house.

Granted, we didn't get off on the right foot. I was always very wary of people approaching me with those shining smiles. Nine times out of ten, they held lies behind them. I was untrusting. And from the moment Jason thought he had the right idea about me–he never spared me a second to breathe from his hatred. It wasn't like we came face to face very often. In all honesty, this was the fourth time I'd seen him since I met him a year ago. Any time he was in town, he went out of his way to avoid me and my friends. Valid.

Except, now he had the truth, and it came from the mouth of someone he trusted. Yet, he still held distaste toward me. It didn't make much sense, and I wasn't sure how much I cared to figure out why. We both had our reasons, didn't we? But there was something about him that caught me off guard when we met. Something I never allowed someone to do. The way those blue eyes stared at me, I saw the hint of fear in them. As if putting himself out there would either cost him everything, or it might give him something to ease some kind of monster hiding underneath his skin.

And even now, he was quiet. After spending an entire night in the place I lived. If he wasn't looking at Emery, he was staring at his plate of uneaten food. He wasn't comfortable–that much was obvious. My friends didn't like him. Hell, I wasn't the biggest fan of his either. But something lingered in those blue eyes of his–and while I didn't want to allow myself to be curious–I was ever so slightly curious anyway.

Mama broke the silence as I set my mug on the table. "Jason, have you figured out what you'd like to do?"

Jason's hands were hiding under the table, but I saw his muscles tense. Like maybe he was squeezing the napkin in his lap. "I am still...working on it." He gritted through his teeth. He didn't want to be disrespectful to my mother. Good call on his part. "I will be out of here by tonight."

My gaze flickered between them like I was watching a tennis match as they began to have a conversation. "Nonsense, Sweetheart. If you will be unwelcome in your own home, you will be welcome in mine. There is a reason you decided to leave college, and a mother should always listen to those reasons, should they not?"

"Not mine."

"Well, then I suppose it's settled. You will stay here until you can figure out what you can do. And before you think you have limited time–you don't. You may stay here as long as you like." Mom lazily gestured toward Axton. "Been here since he was eleven." Then Alaric. "Been here since he was sixteen. Emery comes and goes, but he's just as welcome as you are."

Jason didn't respond, and I didn't expect him to. My gaze shot to Axton, who didn't wear any kind of emotion on his face. Only Triple-A was privy to what he was truly thinking. Axton didn't want him here at all, and who could blame him, really? Refusing to hear what I had to say, and using me to fuel his hateful agenda–not only that, he was almost the cause of Alaric and Emery breaking up. However, something told me those two would have figured it out regardless.