Hello, Darkness by Sandra Brown

email. There was one from his mom, which he deleted without reading. Anything she had to say was salve for her conscience and he didn’t want to hear it.
    You’ll come to realize that this is best for all of us.
    You and your future are our main concerns, Gavin.
    Once you have adjusted to the change…
    Sure, Mom. Whatever you say, Mom. Bullshit, Mom.
    He sat down at the desk and began composing an email letter. But not to his mother. His anger with her was mild compared to the animosity he felt for the recipient of this letter. Not that he planned on sending it. And because he didn’t, he poured out all the anger that had been roiling inside him for days.
    “What makes you think you’re so hot anyway?” he wrote.
    “I’ve seen better. I’ve had better.”
    “Gavin?”
    When the overhead light flashed on, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He quickly exited his email before his old man could read what was on his screen. He pivoted in his chair, hoping he didn’t look guilty. “What?”
    “I’m home.”
    “So?”
    “You okay?”
    “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m not a kid.”
    “Did you eat some dinner?”
    “Oh yeah,” he said, smacking his lips. “Microwaved leftover pizza.”
    “You were invited to join Liz and me. You chose not to.”
    “Bet that broke your heart.”
    In the even, unruffled voice Gavin hated, his dad said, “If I hadn’t wanted you to come along, I wouldn’t have invited you.” He came into the room. Gavin thought, Oh, great. “What’ve you been doing all evening?”
    “Nothing. Surfing the net.”
    “What’s that on your shirt?”
    Perfect. He’d forgotten about the filth on his T-shirt. Dirt. Probably vomit, too. Ignoring the question, he turned back to face the computer. “I’m busy.”
    His dad took him by the shoulder and turned him around. “You went out. Your car isn’t in the same place it was when I left and the hood is warm.”
    Gavin laughed. “You’re checking the temperature of my car’s engine? You need to get a life.”
    “And you need to get with the program.” His father said this in a raised voice, which was rare. “You stink of vomit and you’re drunk. Driving drunk, you could’ve killed somebody.”
    “Well, I didn’t. So relax and leave me alone.”
    Dean stuck out his hand, palm up. “Give me your car keys.”
    Gavin glared at him. “If you think taking my keys will keep me cooped up in here, you’re wrong.”
    Dean said nothing, just kept his hand extended. Gavin fished the keys from the pocket of his jeans and dropped them into his father’s palm. “I hate the damn car anyway, so no big loss.”
    His dad pocketed the keys but didn’t leave. He sat down on the edge of the unmade bed. “Now what?” Gavin groaned. “One of your famous lectures on how I’m pissing my life away?”
    “Do you think I enjoy punishing you, Gavin?”
    “Yeah, I think you do. I think you get off on being the big, bad father, having me to boss around. You enjoy telling me everything I’m doing wrong.”
    “That’s ridiculous. Why do you say that?”
    “Because you’ve never done anything wrong in your whole goddamn life. Mr. Perfect, that’s you. It must be boring as shit to be so right all the time.”
    He was surprised to see his dad smile. “I’m far from right all the time and nowhere near perfect. Ask your mother. She’ll tell you. But I know I’m right about one thing.”
    His dad paused and looked at him hard, probably hoping he would ask what that one thing was. He could wait till hell froze over. Finally he said, “It’s right that you’re living with me now. I’m glad you are. I want you here with me.”
    “Right. I’m sure you’re just thrilled over the new living arrangements. You love having me around, cramping your style, getting in the way.”
    “In the way? Of what?”
    “Of everything.” The exclamation caused his voice to crack. He hoped his dad didn’t mistake it for emotion, which it sure as hell wasn’t. “I’m in