Tomas E-Book

L.J. Diva

• Herausgeber: Royal Star Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Porn Star Brothers Series
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 239

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

This series is dedicated to…

Jackie Collins is the biggest inspiration in my life when it comes to writing, if not the only inspiration. She had the passion; the brains, the ballsy rollicking attitude, and the kind of life that made me want to be her.

And to the three Stefanovic brothers, Carlos, Pedro, and Tomas, without whom I would not have had names for my porn stars.

In the tradition of the bonkbustingly good Jackie Collins comes L.J. Diva’s Porn Star Brothers series.

Follow the meteoric rise of 70s Porn Star, Tomas Stefan, and the rocky path he took to find the life and love he craved in the Porn Star Brothers series.

Tomas Stephanopoulos is the second of three Australian born and Greek Island raised brothers. He loves his job as a personal trainer and has no interest in emulating his elder brother by bedding all of the eligible women on the island.

He lives the good life, training the ladies at the island’s resort, and taking on personal clients at night. Then he meets one client who wants more than personal training. A client who wants intimate training.

With his brothers on the run, he chooses to spread his wings and moves to Miami to personally train the ladies who were his clients back on Mykonos. After meeting the love of his life he moves into porn movies with a new name and a new life, but the drama has followed him from home and continues with his lover’s car being trashed, porn stars being killed off, and a double kidnapping that leads to a dramatic car chase across the country.

And it all comes down to one person…

One person who’s out to end the life of Tomas Stephanopoulos…

****Tomas is the third novella in the Porn Star Brothers contemporary romance series featuring the sizzlingly sexy middle Greek Australian bad boy brother. If you like family sagas, heartfelt romances and dancing to ’70s disco, then you’ll love the latest instalment in L.J. Diva’s page-turning series.

Unlock The Porn Star Brothers Series to start the romance today!

***If you think the story ends abruptly, or without a conclusion, that’s because part 4 of the Porn Star Brothers series, Retribution, is the conclusion to all three Porn Star Brothers books.

Leseprobe

TOMAS

Porn Star Brothers Book 3

L.J. Diva

TIMELINE

July 1977

August 1977

October 1977

About the Author

Other Titles

Dedications

Copyright

July 1977

The pounding on the door woke Tomas Stephanopoulos from a deep slumber. He heard his father stumble through the house to answer it, only to hear a man burst in demanding to know where Pedro was.

Sliding out of bed, he pulled a t-shirt on and went into the lounge room. “What’s going on?” He eyed the big brute of a man standing in their home.

Spiros sighed. “Can you see if Pedro is in his room, Tomas?”

After examining his father’s expression for a moment, he turned and walked into Pedro’s room. Empty. He went back to his father. “Not here.” His eyes moved to their large windmill-shaped wall clock. “But then it’s probably too early for him to be here. Why are you looking?”

The man, Magnus, was guarded. “He left a gig early. Mr Poulos wondered if he’d come back here and was okay.”

“You couldn’t have called?” Tomas asked, intrigued by what was happening.

Magnus nodded. “Forgive my intrusion.” He backed out the door, and Spiros shut, locked, and bolted it behind him.

“That was strange.” Tomas crossed his arms. “Very strange.”

“Not really.” Jenny emerged from the bedroom. “Especially since…” Her hand flew to her mouth and she sobbed.

Tomas saw the letter in her hand and took it when she held it out. “Dear Mama and Papa, something bad has happened and I must leave. I’m okay and will call when I can. I love you both, Pedro.”

“What?” Spiros thundered. “Another son has left us. What is it with these two boys? The eldest and the youngest have both gotten themselves into trouble and left instead of staying and sorting it out. What did I raise? Criminals? They should be ashamed of themselves.” He slumped onto the couch. “They should be ashamed.”

Tomas looked from his father to his mother, who sat beside her husband, to the letter. It wasn’t possible. Just not possible. First Carlos, then Pedro. What the hell was happening for his brothers to be leaving so suddenly? Why hadn’t they heard him come home? Why hadn’t he woken them and said something? He wondered what the man at the door was telling his boss. That Pedro wasn’t there? Why had he left work early? He never leaves early. Wasn’t it a birthday party for the boss’s daughter? So what happened for Pedro to take off before the job was done? He re-read the note. Something bad has happened. What could that be? What could it mean? With both Carlos and Pedro in trouble, it was time someone found out.

*****

Tomas went to work later that morning at the Mykonos Desert Resort, the same resort Carlos had worked. He was the personal trainer in the hotel gym and started at nine every morning, much to the women’s delight, as many were also clients of Carlos.

“Oh, my dear.” Bette Olander held out her bejewelled seventy-year-old hands to him. “I have heard the terrible news that your other brother has left.”

Jesus, news travelled fast on the Greek grapevine.

“How did you hear that, my dear Bette?” Tomas took her hands and air-kissed both cheeks. “We only just found out early this morning.”

“Well…” She glanced around to see if anyone else was watching. “I heard it from Bertha, who heard it from Willow, who swears she overheard two police officers talking about a seaplane that had disappeared without booking a flight plan, and that the DJ from Santorini had disappeared with the boss’s daughter. Well…” She stepped closer to him. “I remember you telling me about your brothers and what they do, and I put two and two together. Especially since Carlos had already gone. I’m so sorry.”

Tomas breathed in. “So am I. Now, do you want your workout session?”

She looked surprised. “You don’t want to talk about it?”

Shaking his head, he said, “Not today, Bette. Let’s get you onto the bike.” He guided her over to the exercise bike and started her off. “Five minutes and then we move on. Gotta get you warmed up.”

She mounted the bike in her deluxe velvet workout tracksuit, with the bejewelled collar to match her bejewelled hands, ears and wrists. Bette Olander never did anything half-assed. Why would she when she had millions to her name and clothed herself in the best those millions could buy? Jewels adorned her at all times. Her feet were swathed in jewelled kitten heels, and anything she wore had some sort of shiny, sparkly ornament on it.

At seventy, she’d had her share of rich husbands who provided her with rich homes and anything else their money could buy. Now, in her twilight years, she was spending it how she liked, when she liked, and on whom she liked, and she liked Tomas Stephanopoulos very much.

Although, she thought he leant more to the male side of things, she wasn’t in it for sex. She’d given up on that back in her fifties. No, she liked Tomas because he made her feel special, wanted, and like a young girl again. Besides, she’d already had one closeted gay husband and wasn’t after another one. No, Tomas was simply a young man who made her feel alive. And she recommended him to all of her friends, telling all of those rich snobby Miami women who either had no husbands or no sex lives with their husbands to come down to Mykonos and spend the summer with Tomas. He would get them into the best shape of their lives.

She studied him as she cycled. Five eleven-ish, jet-black hair, dark brown eyes, in the best condition a man could be in. Abs that you could eat food off, arms that could carry you, and legs that could wrap around you. Yes, he was a fine specimen of a man, regardless of which way he turned.

Bertha finally made it through the door dressed from top to bottom in white spandex that showed off the figure she’d worked so hard for. “So sorry I’m late, dear Tomas, I was having a massage from that new man they’ve hired to replace your brother. He’s okay, but not as good-looking.” At fifty-nine, Bertha St John was twice widowed and twice engaged. This time it was to a twenty-five-year-old stud she’d picked up in Miami the year before. With the plastic surgery she’d had to look younger, she looked forty, and he’d been the trainer she’d gone to when she wanted to lose weight and tighten up. And she tightened up all right. He tightened her up in ways she’d never known and promptly suggested they get married. Now she was waiting until her sixtieth to do so.

“That’s okay, Bertha.” Tomas air kissed her. “You can warm up on the bike. Bette, time to change.” He escorted Bette to the stretching machine, and Bertha took her place.

“How are you, dear, with your brother being gone?” Bertha asked, patting her dyed brown bun into place.

Tomas sighed. It had been this way when Carlos had left, and now they were reliving it with Pedro. “We’re fine. Obviously, they thought it was time for them to leave for bigger pastures than the Greek Islands. They have their things.” He shrugged. “Whatever they need to do, they’re doing it.”

“I’m finally here.” Willow Bertran floated through the door. “Oh, Tomas.” She came over to him. “I am so sorry about your brother. The police are involved, and now that nightclub owner wants to press charges against poor Pedro.” Her blue-green bejewelled kaftan settled around her. “I’m so sorry.”

Tomas frowned. “What do you mean, the police are involved? What charges?”

“Oh, my dear.” She took his hand. “Do you not know?” She looked over at Bette and Bertha. “Have none of you heard?” They shook their heads and stopped exercising. “Well…” Willow settled in for a long chat. “It seems that Pedro was DJing at the going away party Andros Poulos was having for his daughter, Angelina. She’s going to Juilliard in New York, you know.” She fluttered her lashes. “Oh, I love New York, it’s so lovely, especially in the fall.”

“Get on with it, Willow,” Bertha told her.

“Oh.” Willow fluttered. “Well, it seems that sometime during the party Pedro and Angelina were caught in the alley and Poulos demanded they stop, but Pedro hit him over the head and then hit the bodyguard over the head, and they have both left the island for the mainland.” She gasped for breath.

“They’re in Athens?” Tomas muttered, thinking about the new information.

“Doesn’t mean they’re still in Athens,” Willow said. “But at least you know they’re not here anymore.”

Tomas sighed; a deep guttural sigh that filled him as he breathed in and then left him on the exhale. “At least we know something. But what are the charges?”

“Assault on Poulos and the bodyguard, rape and kidnap,” Willow said.

Tomas’s frown deepened. “Rape and kidnap? Who’d he rape and kidnap? The daughter? Angelina? How old is she anyway?”

Willow touched a finger to her lip. “Eighteen, I think.”

“Well, that’s hardly rape and he…” His voice trailed off as he remembered the red marks on his brother’s back that morning in the bathroom. He’d asked if she was legal. Pedro had said he’d hoped so. Shit! “Do they know for a fact Pedro kidnapped her?”

“Well...” Willow’s gaze wandered off so she was looking at the ceiling. “Not really.”

“What do you mean, not really?” he asked.

“Well,” she repeated. “They’re taking Poulos’s story as gospel.”

“So, he could be lying to get my brother into trouble?” Tomas sighed once more and scratched his head. “What is it with my brothers getting into trouble? What is with these people wanting to blame my brothers…” He wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and gazed out over the ocean. “What the hell is going on?”

“Tomas, darling,” Willow called. “Are we getting on with our session?”

He heaved another sigh and turned around to see other guests had come in for their morning workout. “Of course, of course, let’s get to work.”

*****

Tomas hit up the resort’s beach bar at lunchtime. “Hey, Antonio.”

“Hey, man, haven’t seen you for a while.” Antonio was shaking a martini for a guest. “Here you go, ma’am.” He slid it toward her then glanced at Tomas. “What can I get you?”

“A juice, and news on my family.”

Antonio stopped what he was doing to stare at Tomas. “Yeah, I heard about Pedro. Disappeared like Carlos, huh?”

Tomas raised his brows and knocked back the drink Antonio gave him. “Seems so. What have you heard?”

Antonio threw a smile at a guest and took another order. “That he got into it with a club owner on Santorini, attacked him, and now there are charges.”

Tomas sighed. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. “Yeah.” He watched Antonio flirt with the girl. “That’s what I heard. But what I don’t get is this only happened in the early hours of this morning, yet everyone knows more than the family does. And besides which…” He stopped while Antonio served another customer. “How come the cops haven’t knocked on our door yet?” He eyed off the good-looking, lightly tanned, dark-haired guy a few paces away. They guy eyed him back and smiled. Tomas blanched and looked away.

“You don’t know they haven’t. They could be at your place right now.”

Tomas thought about it. “Yeah. Jesus, I won’t know anything more until I get home.”

Antonio handed a margarita to a customer. “Any news on Carlos?”

Tomas shook his head. “Nothing. We’ve been told the charges have been dropped, but no letter, no call, nothing.” He glanced over at the hot stud that was still standing nearby. Teeny tiny red swim briefs held a huge package together. A soft gathering of chest hair spread across lean, tanned muscles and down into the briefs. He saw the man looking with a cocked brow and even cockier grin and reddened. “I gotta go. Let me know if you hear anything,” he told Antonio and walked toward the hotel.

*****

When Tomas arrived home at five-thirty, he found his mother crying over the hot meal she was making. “Mama.” He moved to her side and held her in his arms. “Mama.”

“Oh, Tomas, what are we going to do?” she sobbed.

“About what? Tell me what’s happened.” He stroked her hair as he gently swivelled his body left to right in a semicircle, like rocking a baby to soothe and calm.

“The police,” Jenny cried into his chest. “They were here today asking about Pedro. But I didn’t tell them anything. What could I tell them? That my son had disappeared?” She sniffled.

“Did they hurt you?” He pulled back to look into his mother’s eyes. “Did they touch you, or hurt you, or even,” he looked around, “wreck the place looking for him?”

She shook her head. “No. They checked his room, looked in the others, asked me a bunch of questions. But no, they didn’t touch me, or hit me.”

“Who? Who didn’t touch you, or hit you?” Spiros walked into the kitchen. “Who?”

“The police were here asking about Pedro,” Tomas told him, seeing a mirror image of himself.

Spiros sighed and ran a hand through his thick black hair. “They were at the shop today too. Asked a bunch of questions. Stupid bloody cops.” He saw his wife’s tear-stained face and gently pulled her into his arms. “There, there, we’ll get through this. I don’t know how, but we will.” He looked at Tomas. “Have you got any idea what your idiot brothers have done, or are up to?”

“Why would I?” Tomas shook his head. “But it seems the whole island has heard more than we have.”

“How could they do this?” Spiros hissed. “To their mother. We did not raise them that way.”

“This may not have anything to do with what they did,” Tomas said. “We know they’d never hurt women, we know they’d never shoot anyone, or assault anyone. So maybe they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Rubbish,” Spiros said. “My boys have gotten themselves into something they can get themselves out of.”

*****

On Saturday, Tomas spent the weekend on Santorini to see if he could find out what was going on. He walked the island by day and went to SantorPoulos at night. Striding into the club, he saw a new DJ on stage, but the place was only half full. Most of the crowd was standing around drinking or talking. Making his way over to the bar he ordered a beer. “I thought this place was jumping? A friend of mine told me it was the place to be on Santorini.”

Mikos, the bartender, grimaced. “It used to be, but the reason the tourists came here left.”

“What do you mean?” Tomas frowned. “Was there food poisoning or something?”

Mikos laughed. “Nah, man. The DJ flipped his lid and assaulted the boss out back in the alley.” He flicked his head in the direction. “Took off with the boss’s daughter, apparently. No one knows where they’ve gone.” He went to serve another customer.

Tomas looked around as he sipped his beer. The place was a tourist haven for skimpily clad women and hot men in shirts and shorts. The DJ was good, but not his brother.

“You want anything to eat?”

Tomas turned around to see Mikos. “No, thanks. This is fine for now.” He lifted his beer slightly. “So, what’s this new DJ like then?”

“He’s all right.” Mikos poured a beer. “Not as good-looking as the last one, not as hot as the last one, and not as good on the decks as the last one.”

“He was that good, huh.” Tomas hid a grin.

“Yeah,” Mikos said. “He was that good and better.”

Tomas stayed for another beer. The club, and club scenes in general, were not his thing, but Pedro’s, so the loud music was getting to him. Seeing no one he knew, he left and waited outside for a while, surprised to see Andros Poulos leaving by a side exit.

“I want Athens searched,” he was saying as he buttoned up his blazer. “Clearly they were taken to the mainland, and clearly they were going for the long haul with the amount of luggage there was. In the meantime, I’m going to get a private investigator to check into flights out of the country to see if they took off overseas. I want you to get the information I want. Regardless of how you get it.” He stepped into the back seat of his car.

“Yes, Mr Poulos.” The burly bodyguard shut the door and walked around to the front, getting behind the wheel.

So, that’s Andros Poulos, Thomas thought, trying to see through the dark night and club lights, but he couldn’t get a good look. He wandered over to the exit to see the car heading straight down the road and up the hill. “How am I going to get any information about what’s going on?” he muttered.

“Had enough already?”

Tomas spun around. “Huh?”

Mikos lit a cigarette. “Of the club? Had enough of the club already?”

Tomas gave a small laugh. “Yeah, clubs aren’t really my sort of thing.” He shrugged and tried to get more information. “My friend insisted I come to see the DJ, but he’s not here so, not much point me staying. I think my friend will be disappointed that he’s gone. She really talked him up and said how packed the place was.”

“Yeah.” Mikos took a long drag. “It was, but he bolted Thursday morning, and when everyone finds out he’s not working, they leave.”

“Thursday? You mean two days ago?” Tomas asked innocently.

“Yeah man,” Mikos said. “Two freakin’ days. He’s gone for two freakin’ days and the tourists are down by half. Mr Poulos ain’t happy.”

“No. I guess he wouldn’t be,” Tomas agreed. “This DJ must have been something for you to lose half your patronage in two days.”

“Yeah,” Mikos said, drawing back. “He was something. Pedro Stephanopoulos. Hot stud. Drew the women and men in every night he was here. The place was packed to the rafters, and more were lined up outside to get in, but never could because no one ever left the club until he left the stage. Ten hours he was on stage. The women loved him.”

“Wow. Pity I missed him,” Tomas said, leaning against a stone wall. In actual fact, he had seen Pedro the year before work a crowd for the same amount of time and marvelled at his stamina and extreme talent. He was proud of him for achieving his dreams of being a DJ and being in the music industry. He went in harder. “So, if he’s taken off with the boss’s daughter like all the rumours are saying, that must make things awkward.”

Mikos shrugged nonchalantly. “The boss is like a bear with a sore paw, yelling at everyone. Fired two kitchen staff yesterday, but his assistant had to hire two more just to keep the food going. Poulos doesn’t care; he’s got bigger things to worry about than his club.”

“Must have cared about being assaulted by the guy that took off with his daughter? Was she underage; is that why he’s pissed?”

Mikos flicked his cigarette to the ground where he stepped on it and shook his head. “She’s eighteen, old enough to go off with a guy if she wanted. She was going to some big school overseas, so he had no problem with that.”

“Was the assault bad?” Tomas asked. “He seemed okay when he left just now.”

“Not too bad.” Mikos opened the side door. “Took a trash can lid to the back of the head. So did the bodyguard. No one knew they were out there for about two hours. But not my business. You coming back in?” He held the door open.

Tomas put up a hand. “No, thanks. I think I’ll get going. Let my friend know he’s not here anymore.”

“Suit yourself.” Mikos let the door close on its own.

Well, that’s interesting, Tomas thought. But if Pedro did assault him, one, why did he do it, and two, why has he left the country? He took the path back along the beach wondering what Andros was up to. What in the hell is going on? Two brothers within weeks of each other and now I’m here on my own. What about me? What do I do now? What about mama? Did they care what she thought, or did they think our parents would be better off without them and their troubles sticking around? And papa? He was all but ready to give up and disinherit them. How could he? He raised us better than what he thinks they’ve done. It’s as if he doesn’t care if they’ve even done it. The cops on our doorstep are enough to make him believe they have, and that isn’t fair.

He reached his hotel and went up to his room. Opening the balcony doors, he stood staring at the distant lights of the islands and the way they mingled with the millions of stars in the sky that enveloped them and him with their sheer power. It was an awesome sight you couldn’t get anywhere else.

He sighed. “Carlos, Pedro, where are you? Where the hell are you?”

*****

Sunday morning, Tomas walked around Santorini asking people about Andros and whether they knew anything about the assault on Thursday morning. No one did so he headed home, tired, dejected, and annoyed.

Maybe I should just let them go? Whatever has happened they’re now off living their own lives. At least I hope they are… “Oh, sorry.” He reached out to the person he’d bumped into. “Hey...”

“Hey...”

“I…sorry…I…did you drop anything.” Tomas became flustered as he looked around.

“No, got everything,” the man said and stepped out of the way as passengers from the ferry jostled them aside.

Tomas moved with him. “I, uh, saw you the other day, didn’t I?”

“At the beach bar.” The man nodded.

Tomas felt the flutter; the weird, unusual flutter in his stomach. “Yeah.” He stared at the six foot hunk before him. “Yeah.”

The hunk smiled. “Do you work at the resort?”

“Yeah,” Tomas said for the third time. “I’m the personal trainer in the gym.”

“Oh.” The man cocked an interested brow. “I’ve been wondering if I should get into the gym while on holiday.”

“Are you staying at the resort?” Tomas took a step closer.

“I am.” The man took a step closer.

“Maybe you should come in for a session.”

“Maybe I should.”

Tomas stared.

The man stared.

“I uh.” Tomas took another step. “I’m back at work tomorrow.”

“Do you do private sessions?” The man removed his sunglasses.

Tomas drowned in aqua blue eyes such as he’d never seen. Bluer and more aqua than the ocean surrounding them. He breathed in. “Um, yeah, I do, at night.”

“I’ll have to book you in then.” He took a step closer and ended up toe to toe with Tomas.

Tomas swallowed, his throat clenched, his stomach clenched and it was freaking him out. “Please do,” he finally managed.

*****

“Tomas, darling,” Bette said Monday morning. “Have you thought of leaving the nest?” She was straddling the bike in the resort gym.

“Have never thought about it.” He helped Bertha with her weight exercises.

“Now that Carlos and Pedro are gone, what will you do?” she continued.

Tomas moved on to Willow who was standing on the vibrating belt machine.

Willow was groaning in pleasure, hanging onto the machine head as if it was a man’s as he pleasured her with his tongue. “Oh, God, this is good. Oh, God.”

“Don’t overdo it,” Tomas told her before answering Bette. “I don’t know what I’ll do. Even though this is my home, so is Australia. Maybe I’ll have to reconsider my options now.”

“You’re still young,” Bertha added to the conversation. “You could travel and see the world before settling down with a young lady.”

“Or an older one.” Willow sighed as she stepped off the machine. “Oh, God, that was so good.”

“Or if you aren’t interested in those things,” Bette slyly said. “Someone else to settle down with.”

Tomas flashed her a look. “And what do you mean by that?”

Bette, for all her years, didn’t back down. “Tomas, darling, we know.”

“Know what?” He glanced around the gym to see who was watching or listening.

“That you are of the opposite persuasion,” she said, getting off the bike and going to his side. “It’s okay dear, that’s what we love about you; that you’re not interested in getting us into bed, or trying to charm us to get our money. You’re the kind of young man every older woman wants in her life.”

“And what would that be?” He stared down at her, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d never discussed his sexual orientation with anyone. He’d never needed to. He just wasn’t interested in dating. The opposite sex or otherwise. He didn’t feel sexual toward anyone, so had remained single. He was only twenty-two after all.

“Gay, darling.”

Bertha and Willow crowded around him, much to the annoyance of the other women in the gym who wanted some time with him.

“We know you prefer men,” Willow whispered. “And that’s okay with us.”

“Better than okay,” Bertha said. “We can be open and honest and not worry about you trying anything.”

Tomas became angry, but kept his cool, and removed their hands from his arms. “Thank you for your concern ladies, but my sexuality is no one’s business. Please go back to your stations, or move on to the next.” He left them and moved onto to another client.

“That went down like a lead balloon,” Willow said.

“Maybe he hasn’t realised it yet,” Bette said. “He is still young. He may not have figured it out.”

“But the rest of us have?” Bertha asked.

“I had a gay husband,” Bette said. “So I saw firsthand what he couldn’t quite figure out for himself. He’s young, he’ll get there.”

*****

Tomas took his lunch break in the private gardens of the resort. It backed onto the beach, and staff members were allowed to use it. He sat and contemplated what the ladies had said. He’d never questioned his sexuality, never had reason to as he’d never been attracted to anyone. He just wasn’t interested. As his mother said, he’d know when the right person came along. Yet clearly the right person had never come along, not that it mattered, he was only twenty-two. Neither Carlos nor Pedro had girlfriends. Carlos did whatever he wanted, but had no one serious, and Pedro had only recently found himself a girl, even if she was the boss’s daughter. So why did he need to worry?

He thought about the guy he’d run into, twice, and sighed. The revelation worried him. I’m sitting here thinking about a man and not a woman. Am I gay?

He stopped thinking, breathing, being.

Am Igay?

Just because you have the tingles for a man doesn’t make you gay, he argued with himself.

Yeah, but it’s not like I’ve had the tingles for a woman.

True.

Suddenly the world seemed a heavy burden on his shoulders, and the weight of it on his chest made it want to collapse. Another sigh came from the pit of his stomach. Sighing was something he’d done a lot of since Carlos left. Standing, he breathed deeply and realised there was only one thing to do. Stop worrying about his brothers and start worrying about himself and his own future.

Whatever the hell that was.

*****

“Any word from Carlos or Pedro?” Tomas asked his mother when he got home.

She looked up, teary-eyed, and put the wooden spoon down. She’d been making lamb stew, but didn’t have the heart to put into it. “No.”

“Oh, Mama. I’m so sorry.” He hugged her.

“What for? You haven’t done anything.” She patted his arm.

Silence.

“No,” he finally said. “But I may be about to…”

She looked up with worry and surprise on her face. “What do you mean? What have you done or what are you about to do? Tell me, Tomas!”

“Mama, it’s okay,” he reassured her. “I haven’t done anything. It’s just…” He sighed yet again and leant against the kitchen counter. “With Carlos and Pedro gone, where does that leave me?” He shrugged a shoulder. “What do I do now?”

“You have your job, don’t you love that?” She moved over to her son, sensing he was in crisis.