“I didn’t say assumed. I said figured.”
“Semantics. Now, hush, the movie’s coming on.”
We watched several minutes before I pointed out the premise behind the movie.
“You realize that this whole series of movies is about a man avenging the murder of the love of his wife, right?”
“And his dog.”
“Yes. That’s wildly romantic. A man who would burn the world down for his person. Everyone deserves that.”
No response came other than him fidgeting and shifting behind me. My lips twitched, trying to contain the laughter. I failed. Miserably.
“You’re a fucking asshole. You know that, right?”
“But I’m your asshole. Your soulmate. You’d burn the world to the ground for me.”
“If you ruin this series…”
“I would never.”
“Good. And yes, cariño. If someone hurt you, I’d gut the motherfucker and string him up by his fucking toes so people would think twice about doing it in the future.”
“Awww. Look at you being all sweet and shit.”
“Shut up and watch John kick ass.”
We lost ourselves in the movie. Foster came in about halfway through but didn’t say anything. At least not to us. He was on the phone. By the sound of it, the call was with his oldest set of twins. Asher and Bauer were the same age as Jackson and his twin sister, Olivia. Only they worked for Holt Security, but it wasn’t what either of them wanted. Only Foster, like Walker, liked the idea of the boys taking over the security and PMC firms. Unlike Jackson, Asher and Bauer hadn’t gotten up the nerve to tell their daddy to kiss their ass.
Yet.
I felt Hayden shift under me to watch Foster leave the room. When he turned back he asked, “Whose ass is he chewing?”
“Asher and Bauer.”
“Who?”
“His oldest set of twins. He and Jules have five boys. Two sets of twins and a single in the middle. Asher and Bauer work for Holt. They’re in Nashville, sitting on the house Jackson and Katie rented to stay at between the New York trip and the Birmingham race.”
“Okay, but why’s he…”
“Chewing their ass? They work for him, and aren’t happy with the arrangement. I’ve always believed they had other aspirations.”
“Gotcha. They’re men, at least I hope y’all aren’t hiring babies, and they don’t appreciate him treating them like a couple of kids? And working for their old man…”
“You got it, Sergeant. He treats them like a couple of kids, and yes, they’re men. They’re the same age as Jackson and Olivia. They’ll tell him to kick rocks sooner rather than later.”
“Sounds like being raised as a Holt isn’t all beach houses and fancy cars.”
“Fuck, no. There’s a lot of responsibility. We’re all raised to work. Every single person in the family works roundup if they’re on the ranch, and if you aren’t on the ranch, you best be deployed or on an op. Jackson’s missed the last few, but Olivia makes it.”
“And you, vato, do you work roundup?”
“Haven’t missed one yet.”
“Hmm. I just have one question.”
“What’s that, Papi?”
