“What Roderick wanted would always come first above anything else, no matter who it hurt. That included me. He was still that angry little boy, raw and hurting, and he didn’t care what the consequences were as long as he was able to make his enemies suffer.” Alistair emptied his wine glass in one big gulp. “I left him because I simply had nothing more that I could give him. I knew if I stayed it was only a matter of time before I got in his way, and I would suffer too.
“I wanted to believe that I was somehow the exception, but…” Alistair smiled sadly. “I was not. It was a difficult decision, perhaps the worst of my life, but I could not stay with him. My angry boy had grown up to be a monster.”
“I’m sorry.” Noah reached over for Alistair’s hand. “He sounds like a real fuckin’ asshole.”
“He has his moments.” Alistair squeezed Noah’s hand.
“He’s that Cold guy. Isn’t he?”
“Ever the detective, dear Noah.”
Noah couldn’t help but feel a little pleased he was right. “You dated the freakin’ gangster king of Strassen Springs?”
“Sounds like someone has been rather chatty with you. Mmm, Junior?”
“Hey, you’d make a good detective too!” Noah grinned, and it warmed his heart to see Alistair smile. It was a real smile this time, and he was glad to see it.
“Perhaps in another life.” Alistair took his hand back to refill their glasses, letting out a sigh as if he’d been holding his breath. “I have not shared that story in a very long time.”
“Well, thank you for sharing it with me. He really fucked you up, huh?”
“Yes.” Alistair lifted his glass. “He truly did ‘fuck me up,’ as you so eloquently said.”
“Well, I guess it’s messed up of me to say, but I’m kinda glad that he did.”
“Oh?”
“If he hadn’t, you’d be in Strassen Springs doing your gangster Daddy thing with him. You wouldn’t be here. You know… doing it with me.”
“I suppose not.” Alistair nodded. “Thank you. That’s actually a very nice way to think about it.”
“Yeah? Good.” Noah shrugged. “It’s kinda like all this shit with Uncle Patrick. Even whoever’s trying to kill me. I mean, it’s screwed up. It’s majorly screwed up. All of it… but it brought us together, right?”
“Why, dear Noah.” Alistair grinned. “Is that the sound of you being sentimental?”
“Maybe a little.” Noah’s head was fuzzy from the wine, but he had a peculiar moment of clarity. “For the first time in my life, I actually want more for myself. I want to do something. Maybe cooking, you know? I could handle that. I could be a great chef.”
“You would be,” Alistair confirmed.
“See? That. That whole believing in me thing. And you mean it.” Noah leaned forward, on the edge of his seat. “I could actually do something with myself. I have potential. Me. I never had anybody tell me that, and it just… okay, it means a lot to me.”
“The lack of encouragement you’ve experienced only confirms that you’ve been associating with fools,” Alistair said firmly. “However this turns out between us, I would like to give you something.”
“What?”
“I would like to send you to culinary school.”
“Huh?” Noah scoffed. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You know I’m still technically rich, right? I can send myself.”
“Ah, but I would have you attend the Hart Institute of Culinary Arts here in Moultrie.”
Noah had definitely heard of it. “That place is like impossible to get into. Thousands of people apply there from all over the country. I remember a guy talking about it back in high school.”
“I have my ways,” Alistair said mysteriously.
