The Other Side of Winter by G B Gordon

Author:G B Gordon [Gordon, G B]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science, Fiction, Romance, Mystery, 1056
ISBN: 9781626492660
Goodreads: 24017587
Publisher: Riptide
Published: 2015-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

He jerked awake to one of the phones ringing before the call was rerouted to the duty desk. He checked his grip—no message. He’d been out for hours. The inner storm that had brought him here had died down. He was still tired, had a crick in his neck, and felt as if every vein in his body had been filled with lead. But the nap had taken the edge off his sleep deprivation. Time to go back and face the music.

But the closer he came to home the more he wanted to be anywhere else. He didn’t want to fight with Alex. Alex had moved his whole life up here to be with him, and all they were doing recently was having one argument after the other. And all about unimportant shit. Bengt didn’t understand it, and that scared him. If he didn’t understand Alex, what was left? Alex was trying to adapt to some huge changes, and it was rough, that much he got. And he wanted to help, but as long as he didn’t know what exactly was tripping him up, he couldn’t. It had to be about more than just the fucking truck, didn’t it?

In any case, Alex wasn’t talking. So, maybe it was time Bengt did. It had worked once before, on Santuario. Taking the first step, telling Alex how he felt, had made Alex talk back then.

By the time he got home, Bengt was resolved to try that approach again. Lead by example, then let Alex choose what he wanted to do. They’d get to the bottom of this, one way or another.

But the house was dark. Alex’s anorak and boots were gone, so he’d probably followed his usual MO. Faced with anything emotionally difficult, he tended to run, work out, or walk it off. It was dark already, though, and cold. Bengt would always worry about him when he was out there at night, but in winter? Fuck.

He went to take a shower, pulled out a fresh shirt, and resisted the urge to bury his face in Alex’s clothes in the closet. Alex still wasn’t home. Maybe he was spending the evening with Tom or Freya. He’d be even more pissed, though, if Bengt called around after him. Bengt checked his grip again for a message, but came up empty. He decided to give Alex another half hour, make himself some tea, and then call if he wasn’t back.

He flicked the light on in the kitchen, and got himself a mug out of the cupboard, then stood, scanning the counter, his brain refusing to process what his eyes were telling him.

Alex’s tea chest was gone. It didn’t make sense. His other stuff was there, clothes, netpad, so why the tea chest? Bengt felt like he was trying to think through syrup.

He searched the house as he would a crime scene. Alex’s kit bag was gone, along with what he’d had with him when he came, what he’d bought, and the winter clothes that had been his Jól presents.

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