The flash drive’s still decoding in the office, its secrets about Knox, Obsidian Ventures, and the cartel hanging over us, but out here, with the smell of charcoal and the boys’ laughter, it feels like we’ve stolen a moment from the chaos.
I pass Cole a beer, and he nods, his sharp eyes softening for once.
“Good call on the BBQ, man,” Cole says, clinking his bottle against mine. “Littles are happy, we’re fed, and we’ve got time to breathe.”
Max snorts, tossing a burger onto a bun.
“Speak for yourself,” Max retorts. “These boys are gonna eat us out of house and home.”
We laugh, and I plate up the food, calling everyone over.
“Grub’s ready!” I holler.
The boys scramble to their feet, their cards forgotten, and we all settle around a wooden picnic table, plates piled high with burgers, ribs, corn, and coleslaw.
Miles is beside me, his shoulder brushing mine, and Richie and Billie are across from us, their Daddies flanking them.
The table is a riot of noise—laughter, clinking glasses, the boys teasing each other about who got the most barbecue sauce on their face. Miles has got a smear of it on his cheek, and I wipe it off with my thumb, grinning when he blushes and sticks out his tongue.
This moment, this table, it’s a family vibe I’ve never known.
Growing up, my family was scattered—parents split, mom in Europe, dad chasing deals in Asia, siblings and cousins flung across continents.
Holidays were solo, just me and a microwave dinner, no warm gatherings or shared laughter. Even when I was older, the closer relatives—uncles, aunts—passed away, and the distant ones faded into phone calls that stopped coming.
The Guard filled that void, gave me brothers like Cole and Max, a purpose, a legacy.
But this—sitting here with Miles, the Littles, my brothers—it’s something else, something deeper. It’s not just loyalty; it’s belonging, and it’s got me choked up in a way I didn’t expect.
I look at Miles, his eyes sparkling as he steals a fry from Billie’s plate, and I make a silent vow…
I’ll see this through—Knox, the cartel, whoever’s behind that death threat.
I’ll burn it all down to keep him safe, to keep this feeling alive.
The flash drive’s our key, and I won’t let it slip away, not for Mr. G, not for the Guard, not for anything.
Miles is my Little, my everything, and I’ll fight to the end for him.
The young man’s voice pulls me back to the table...
“Daddy, can we go play in the woods?” he asks, his eyes wide, hopeful. Richie and Billie chime in, their voices overlapping.
“Yeah, there’s a clearing nearby!” Billie says. “We could explore, maybe find fairies!”
I exchange a look with Cole and Max, their faces hardening. The woods are thick, uncharted, and with a cartel out there, possibly watching, it’s too risky.
“Not this time, boys,” I say, my Daddy voice firm but gentle. “It’s not safe out there.”
Miles pouts, his bottom lip jutting out, and the other two mirror him, their disappointment palpable.
I soften, leaning forward.
“But here’s a deal,” I say. “You can have full control of the living area. Make dens, play whatever games you want. Go wild.”
Their faces light up, and Miles claps his hands, squealing.
“Dens! Yes!” the three Littles say in unison.
