The brightness inside their villa woke her early.
To her surprise, there was a wonderful smell that lingered. Coffee and bacon. Stefan must have sneaked in early and laid out breakfast for the two of them. A little creepy, but the gesture more than outweighed the minor invasion of privacy. She leaned over Trevor, whose brow was scrunched like he was trying to solve an equation in his sleep. She whispered in his ear, “Trevor. Breakfast.” He twisted in bed with a frown.
Erin grabbed a cup of coffee and held it close to his nose, finally waking him, his squinting bloodshot eyes confused and upset.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.
He groaned.
“Stefan brought us breakfast.”
No response, only shuffling around in the sheets.
“You should give me a hand with all of this.”
He dragged himself out of bed begrudgingly, and she could see the look on his face that was foul for no damn reason.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Fine, I guess.” He yawned.
“You were sleepwalking last night.”
His eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Yeah, it was freaky.”
“What’d I do?”
“You were at the end of the dock, lying down, looking at something.”
“Wow, that is weird.”
He sipped his coffee and looked out at the water, away from Erin.
“Hungover?” she asked.
“No, not really.”
“Stefan made us breakfast; come sit with me.”
He sat and she made a goofy face, at him but he ignored her.
Trevor pulled out his phone and began surfing through old emails, she assumed.
“You find a Wi-Fi connection I don’t know about?”
“Unfortunately not. It would have been nice to know about this in advance.”
“So you don’t work this week. Your dad managed for twenty-five years before you.”
“By failing to prepare—”
She cut him off, finishing his sentence for him. “You are preparing to fail… No one else is here.”
Erin continued, choosing for once to show her anger rather than suppress it. “You’re failing at enjoying yourself.”
“I’m having loads of fun,” he said unconvincingly, reaching for a piece of bacon.
“Is there something you need to tell me?” Good Lord, I sound like an obsessive freak.
“No.”
“I’m going to the beach.” She rose from her chair a little too aggressively, gaining his attention.
“It’s Stefan,” he blurted out.
She sat back down. “What about Stefan?”
“Last night while you were watching that movie… Well, you were sleeping, but he pulled me aside into this weird room and started asking me questions.”
“What sort of questions?”
“I don’t know really. It was more the way he looked at me, I guess. I know how that sounds. And this whole stupid contest thing. He said he wanted me to be a leader.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s the way he said it. It was messed up.”
“He’s your cousin. I thought you two got along.”
“I don’t really know him anymore. Haven’t for a while now.”
“I don’t think it’s weird that he wants you to be a leader. And maybe you were calling his plans stupid. I can see you doing that.”
“I’m sorry.” He set his strip of bacon back down on the plate and stared at it. “Maybe there’s a reason you’re defending him.”
“What?”
“I saw the way you looked at him.”
“I didn’t look at him any way. It’s called being nice and trying to enjoy my holiday, Trevor.”
“Right. You’re right.”
Erin sighed. “I’d like us to start this morning over. As long as you promise you won’t be like this all day.”
“Like what?”
“Casting your shadow of gloom over everyone.”
“You make it sound like I’m just a complete asshole all the time.”
“You’re not an asshole,” she said. “I just want you to be happy that’s all.”
“Did you know the door locked?”
“What door?”
“To his fucking interrogation room.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” he said smugly, with an anger smoldering that wasn’t appropriate for the level of “fight” they were having.
“Why was the door locked?”
“The power cut out and it was automated. Doesn’t that concern you?”
“Not overly.”
He looked at her like he’d just been slapped across the face. “Right on. Thanks, Erin.”
“You’re being dramatic. And I’m going to the beach.”
She took a strip of bacon and left him there to stew in his foul mood.
Chapter Six - Trevor
Walking down the beach, he couldn’t stop thinking of his father.
Alzheimer’s. He could tell himself it wasn’t, but that one look into his father’s vacant eyes after speaking of his ghost of a sister as if current routine, and there was no refuting the answer. Stress doesn’t do that. Fatigue doesn’t do that. Nothing does that. Only a failing mind beginning to collapse does that. He was so young though. It was difficult to grasp. It consumed the majority of real estate within Trevor’s mind. It had to have been a strange blip; a momentary lapse, never to happen again. He’s unorganized at work because he’s ready for retirement. He’s ready to pass the reins. Maybe he’s sick of it all? Maybe he’s dating someone? Distracted. Maybe he just missed her that much? A Freudian slip?
Trevor’s mother had left over a decade ago, and his father had no one but him; his golf buddies didn’t count. They were pretentious losers, and Trevor figured his dad knew that. Can’t golf alone, shouldn’t drink alone; most of the time, that is. Trevor shouldn’t have left on this trip. He should have talked to his dad, should have taken him to the doctor.
The hot sun made him feel sick. The lingering taste of red wine didn’t help. Just as he thought he was about to vomit, he spotted an old man in the trees staring at him, shovel in hand.
There are others out here? His morose stare persisted. He just stood there. The eerie moment pulled Trevor’s focus away from his father and back toward the disturbing conversation he had with Stefan the night before. Neither of them waved; they remained in a deadlock, the old man’s hand squeezed around the handle of the shovel. Finally, he turned away and continued shoveling at the sand.
Trevor caught up with the group. Ashton turned.
“Where you guys going?”
“Sorry, dude. Thought you were staying back. Feeling better?”
Erin must have spun some lie about him being sick. She had become oddly bold since arriving. Maybe it was the setting, but he loved it and hated it at the same time. He could have compiled every time they’d had sex and it wouldn’t have amounted to the way she screwed last night.
“Good as new. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise, cousin.”
“Does everything have to be a surprise?” he questioned with a tiresome exhale. Erin snapped her head around, giving him a nasty look.
“Yes, yes it does,” Stefan replied. Ashton handed Trevor a beer. At least he looked happy to have him along.
Erin rushed ahead to join Skye on the walk, leaving the boys behind.
“Trouble in paradise?” Ashton asked with a sly grin.
“You could say that.” They clanked beers and drank. “How about you?”
“Trouble? You could say that.”
“Still not putting a damper on the sex life?”