His sister caught Sebastian’s eye, and he dropped his gaze, looking down into his cup. Their mother was still oblivious to the time Mike and his buddies had beaten him up.
“People hate what they don’t understand,” his dad said.
“Or maybe they’re just crazy jerks,” Julia said. “There doesn’t have to be a reason. Some people are just vile.”
“Maybe they just never knew any better,” Vlad said quietly.
Tensing, Sebastian shot Vlad a look over the rim of his cup. He had been basically ignoring his bodyguard since their arrival, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. Having Vlad in his childhood home felt strange on so many levels. He’d never imagined Vlad having an actual conversation with his family.
“What do you mean, dear?” his mother said.
Vlad shrugged slightly, his expression closed off. “Some people grow up knowing nothing but hate toward...anything different. They don’t know how messed up some of their beliefs are. They simply don’t know any better. They don’t question what they’ve been told by adults.”
Sebastian stared at him.
His father was the one to ask a question that was undoubtedly on everyone’s minds. “Are you speaking from personal experience, son?”
Vlad’s face was positively stony. He gave a clipped nod, his blue eyes fixed on his tea. “My uncle used to tell me and my brothers that gay people were like rabid dogs that ought to be shot. He was the only male authority figure we had, and we had no reason not to trust his words.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
“That’s...awful,” Sebastian’s mother said, her dark eyes wide and her hand covering her mouth. “He couldn’t have been a good parental figure.”
“What a psycho,” Julia muttered.
Their mother shot her a reproachful look. “The important thing is that now you know better,” she said, turning to Vlad with a soft smile.
When Vlad said nothing, her smile slipped off.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in Sebastian’s throat. God, the whole thing was almost hilarious.
“He hates me, Mum,” Sebastian said with a snort.
“Don’t be silly, Sebastian,” Melinda said. “How can anyone hate you?”
“He does,” Sebastian said.
Melinda was frowning deeply, looking from Sebastian to Vlad. “Surely my son is mistaken? You can’t possibly hate him.”
Vlad shrugged. “I don’t want him dead.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Julia said, not without sarcasm.
Vlad was frowning. “I don’t ‘hate’ him. Hate is the wrong word. But he’s a pretentious little shit, too idealistic for his own good.”
Melinda opened and closed her mouth.
Julia started snickering. “I like you,” she told Vlad.
Sebastian kicked her under the table and looked at Vlad exasperatedly. “You could’ve refrained from insulting me at least while you’re in my mother’s house.” But he was a little bewildered. Vlad didn’t hate him? The day was getting stranger and stranger.
“Don’t see any point in lying,” Vlad said, his eyes fixing on Sebastian with an intensity that was a little unnerving. “If you weren’t against violence, you could have learned to protect himself. You’re not a wimp.”
“Well,” his mother said, looking uncomfortable. Sebastian felt so sorry for her. She was clearly very torn. Melinda Sumner prided herself on being a gracious, warm hostess, but she was also fiercely protective of her children.
Melinda took a sip from her tea. “At least tell me you know that your uncle was wrong.”
“Of course I do,” Vlad said. “But if I hadn’t moved to Moscow when I was thirteen, I would’ve likely kept believing everything he told us.”
“And might have been one of those fanatics now,” Julia murmured.
“Doubt it,” Vlad said. “Killing someone for religious, ideological reasons is beyond stupid. They don’t even gain anything from it.”
Sebastian’s mother, father, and sister all stared at Vlad unblinkingly, shock plain on their faces.
Sebastian couldn’t hold it back anymore: he threw his head back and started laughing. He’d grown so used to Vlad that he’d become desensitized to such remarks from him.
“It’s not funny, Sebastian,” his mother said, looking flustered and frustrated.
Taking pity on his poor mother, Sebastian stood up, grabbed Vlad’s arm, and pulled him to his feet. Vlad let him, which was a relief, because Sebastian didn’t feel like looking like an idiot in front of his family.
“I’m knackered,” he said. “I think I’ll go to bed early.” He pulled at Vlad’s arm, leading him out of the room.
“Wait, sweetheart!” Melinda called out. “Are you sure it’s safe to...” She trailed off, blushing when Vlad looked at her.
Sebastian almost laughed. If only his mother knew what he had allowed Vlad to do to his body...
“He won’t kill me in my sleep,” he said with a wry grin. “That I’m sure of. Good night.” And he headed to his old room, Vlad following him behind closely.
When the door of his childhood bedroom closed behind them, Sebastian cleared his throat. His bedroom had never seemed so small before. “There’s a sleeping bag in the closet. The bathroom is down the corridor.”