Both our phones spout off message alerts.
KOK: Sterling, gonna be gone awhile. I would like you to check in on Claudia and Savannah if you have time. Also gonna ask that if you do, you swing by a hardware store and grab a lock like we have at our place. Maybe a couple of deadbolts that actually fit. Bronski tried. Moretti, get some fucking sleep.
Dash: On it.
“I got it,bro. We’ve changed locks at the Palace, what, two times?” He counts on his fingers. “Three?”
“I’m going.”
Dash squints at me, “For… security reasons.”
“Yeah, and to make sure you don’t propose to Bronski.” I push up off the couch. “Gonna grab some things, gonna get a room for a few days.”
Gotta make sure thelocksare safe. Definitely not using it as an excuse to check on a particular trauma-therapist-breast-milk-goddess-slash-girl-you-ghosted-via-app-two-years-ago.
“Puck Palace is gonna be quiet,” Dash chuckles. “Koa’s got the big ass house on the Hudson already.”
“Stuck here in Brooklyn while you’re all on the ice, while my head heals. The only thing to look forward to is room service.”
I walkinto the Hen house and see Paul and Claudia, with Savannah swaddled tight to her body, as they step out of a doorand into the entry. Looking at it now, I bet it was one hell of a foyer in its day.
“The Italian,” Paul nods as he looks me up and down. “You here to start trouble?”
“Only if you have a problem with a new lock on the entry door,” I answer, setting down the toolbox we grabbed on our way out the door.
“You’re going to love it, Mr. Bronski,” Dash says as he steps in. “Triple dead bolts, codes, and keys, and you can even hook it up to an app and see who’s coming in.”
“How much is this gonna run me?”
“Nothing, we uh, had it at the house,” he chuckles.
Bronski narrows his eyes.
“He’s telling you the truth. The Puck Palace has had visitors who have swiped keys on their way out.”
“Then we come home and they’ve let themselves in, uninvited.” Dash shrugs and Bronski chuckles. “So, I bought two of these, thinking we’d run into the problem again.”
“Which hasn’t happened, because one of us no longer has keys.” I shake my head.
“Systems changed, I can have keys,” Dash huffs. “I just don’t want them.”
“And you two know what you’re doing?” Bronski asks.
“Pro’s,” Dash assures him. He tosses his thumb over his shoulder at me. “His old man is a contractor back in the old country.”
“Huh,” Bronski says and looks at Claudia. “Guess you’ll have someone to ask if questions arise when you’re redoing yours and your little one’s place.”
“You’re moving in?” Dash asks.
She nods, “One of my foster dads taught me a few things. I know how to mud, sand, and paint. I’m sure I can figure out how to hang drywall.”
It would be very unwise to express how hot that is, right now anyway, so instead I go with, “Well then, you’ll need to know how to run a screw gun. You give me Savannah, and I’ll hold her while you install a new deadbolt.”
“Give me a minute to get back to my place, and I’ll hold the little nugget; the three of you can work on that together,” Bronski calls to us as he grabs his walker and starts that way.
Bronski shuffles out with his walker, and the second the door shuts, Dash whispers, “I bet he hears everything.”
Claudia smirks. “Good. Keeps everyone honest.”
