Everything he’d done was to take care of his grandfather. He’d carved out a life for them with blood and violence because there was no other path available to him. He hadn’t qualified for any pension from the military, he didn’t have the money for an education, and his one and only skill was taking human life.
He couldn’t stop now, and the consequences were heavy; such a contrast to how light his grandfather felt in his arms as he carried him down into the basement.
Whatever it took, he had to keep Pops safe.
“Here we go,” Mickey said as he eased him down into the bed. “See? Didn’t drop you.”
“Smells musty in here.” Pops wrinkled his nose as he got settled in with all the pillows Mickey had gathered. “How long am I gonna be staying here in this luxury suite?”
“Just for a little while, Pops.”
Pops reached for Mickey’s hand. “Are you in some trouble, son?”
Mickey froze, glancing warily at Duncan, who was hovering by the doorway.
“I’ll, uh, go wait in the car.” Duncan smiled at Pops and waved as he left. “Good to see you, sir.”
“See you later, Duncan.” Pops waved back. “Take care of yourself.”
“Bye!”
Mickey didn’t say anything, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. Pops was still holding his hand, and it felt like old paper. He didn’t want to look at him.
“So.” Pops smacked his lips. “Are you? In trouble, I mean. ’Cause I can’t imagine you brought me down here to enjoy the smell.” He cocked his head. “I’m not stupid, Michael.”
“I know.” Mickey didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t want to tell Pops the truth, but he didn’t want to lie. They’d managed to make it this far without discussing the exact nature of Mickey’s job, and he wanted that veil to remain.
“I’ve seen all the guns. The ammo. I’ve seen the blood in the bathroom before.” Pops squeezed his hand. “You ain’t that slick, kiddo.”
Great.
Mickey scowled.
“Well?” Pops pressed.
“I’m not in trouble. Not exactly.” Mickey hesitated. “Things are getting… heated at the office. We’re attempting this merger. Well, more of a takeover.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Mickey said with more confidence. “My boss has a plan, and it’s all gonna work out. But we gotta protect our assets for a little while.”
“Oh?” Pops grinned. “I’m an asset, huh?”
“Yeah.” Mickey smiled crookedly. “You are to me.” There was suddenly a tickle in the back of his throat. “You’re… you’re all I got.”
Pops laid his other hand on top of Mickey’s, pulling him in to kiss his cheek. “Don’t start that now. Come on. What about your little vampire, huh?”
Mickey scoffed, and he turned his head as his cheeks began to warm up.
“I’m still expecting dinner, you know.”
“Might be a little while, Pops.”
“Nonsense.” Pops patted Mickey’s hand. “This place got a kitchen, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Take your little ass to the store, get some real food down here, and let’s cook.”
