Especially Major.
He had reached out to Beckett and Holden ahead of time to see if they thought Hikaru would like to light the bonfire, and of course, they trusted him implicitly. Now my grandson ran up to Major, hugging one of his tree-trunk legs. Major produced a comically large match approximately the length of Ru’s forearm.We gathered around as Major helped Ru drag the match head along the specialty flint and touch it to the perfectly stacked kindling.
The stack went up with a thrillingwhoosh, and watching Ru’s eyes light up with Major at his back, making sure he was safe, tugged at my wretched heart once more.
“Hey, Dad,” Holden said. “You okay?”
I’d stepped away as everyone gathered round the flames with marshmallows on long sticks. Perhaps it was a little too obvious that I was trying to avoid the group.
I shrugged, unable to speak for the catch in my throat.
“It’s bittersweet, coming out here like this, isn’t it?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I leaned into his warmth. “It really is.”
“You don’t have to separate yourself when you get emotional, you know. The Lost Boys, we… Well, it’s okay if this is hard. There’s no need to hide how much it affects you to be reminded of the past.”
I let out a long breath. “When did you get so smart?”
“I’ve always been smart, Dad. You and Pops were the first ones to see it and encourage it.”
If I had to describe parenthood to someone who’d never experienced it, I’d say it was a bunch of hard, strung together with moments like this. I was damned lucky to have Holden as a son, and the fact that he appreciated what we’d tried to do as parents lifted an unvoiced worry from my heart.
“All we did was make sure you had food, clothing, and shelter, and then we did our best to stay out of your way.”
“Your best was a helluva lot better than what I’d had before I came to you,” he said, his eyes roving the tree line.
I looked up at him, scanning his features. “Are you sure you’re okay being here?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly. Then he paused, a grin spreading across his face. “There’s something reassuring about knowing that if Chase and his cronies showed up right now, they’d find themselves in a world of hurt.”
“And that’s just from me.” I tried to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn’t.
I’d never admit it to anyone, but there were still days I wanted to drive up to Dallas and beat the shit out of that man. I’d overheard, however, that he might actually enjoy that sort of thing.
I supposed that a more evolved person would be happy that Chase DeWitt had finally freed himself of his family’s clutches and found acceptance in the queer BDSM community, but that was never gonna be me.
Forgive and forget?Highly fucking unlikely.
“Pretty sure Beckett, Walker, and Hendrix would compete to see who could break his nose first,” I retorted, enjoying the visual.
“Ha. Don’t forget Major,” he said.
As if I could.
“He’s quiet, but he’s got some serious muscles,” Holden continued. “I bet he’d make quick work of that entire crew.”
I stifled the panic rising in my throat at hearing Major’s name come out of my son’s mouth.He doesn’t know anything. Don’t overreact.
Instead, I said, “Can you imagine Major ever getting violent?”
“To protect someone he cares about, sure,” Holden said as he watched Ru and Beckett roast marshmallow after marshmallow, a small smile playing on his lips.
With everything spinning in my head, it was easy to overlook the wonder of watching my son become a father. And he was such a wonderful father. Hikaru was my little buddy, sure, but the way he’d come out of his shell under Holden and Beckett’s care was nothing short of a miracle.
I probably used the word “miracle” a lot for someone who was on the more secular side of things, but I had to wonder if there wasn’t some kind of invisible string that had always attached the four of us, making us bound to become a family.
I wished like an ache that Robert could have lived to see it. Tears spilled as I imagined how much he’d have loved being the grandfather of such a special young boy. Even if the title would’ve wounded his pride.
