We're walking toward his car when I see someone familiar leaning against my truck in the parking lot. My stomach drops.
Clint.
What the hell is Clint doing here?
"Gav?" Doc notices me tensing. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just—" But Clint's already spotted us. Already pushing off the truck and heading our way with that swagger he picked up from Troy.
"Well, well. Baby cousin."
"Clint." I keep my voice neutral. "Didn't know you were in town."
"Had some business. Thought I'd grab dinner." His eyes slide to Doc. Narrow. "Who's this?"
"This is Sebastian. Seb, this is Clint."
Doc kind of jerks beside me when I call him by name, not nickname.
But he's a polite guy, so he extends his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Clint looks at the hand. Doesn't take it. Just looks Doc up and down with barely concealed disgust.
"Right." He turns back to me. "Heard you talked to Uncle Bill today."
Shit. Word travels fast.
"Yeah. We talked."
"Talked." Clint snorts. "That's what you call it? Because from what Troy told me, you pretty much told him to go fuck himself."
"That's not?—"
"Whatever, man." He's already backing away, hands up. "Your funeral. Just don't come crying when it all blows up in your face."
He shoots one more look at Doc, dismissive, cold, and then he's gone. Climbing into his truck and peeling out of the lot like the asshole he is.
Silence.
"Gavin?" Doc's voice is small. Uncertain. "Who was that?"
"My cousin. Clint." I run a hand through my hair. "He's... we're not close. He's more my brother's friend than mine."
"He didn't seem happy to see you."
"He's never happy about anything." I try to smile. It feels wrong. "Don't worry about it, okay? He's just... he's like my dad. Got the same shitty opinions."
Doc doesn't say anything. Just stands there in my oversized hoodie, looking up at me with those dark eyes that see too much.
"Hey." I take his hands. "It's fine. Really. Clint's a dick, but he doesn't matter. None of them matter."
"You sure?"
No. I'm not sure. Clint showing up here, knowing about my call with Dad already, that's not good. That means they're talking. Comparing notes. Building a case against me.
But Doc doesn't need to worry about that. Not tonight.
"I'm sure." I lean down, press my forehead to his. "The only thing that matters right now is you."
