Some of the tension bled from Seven at the older man’s words. He wanted to believe that was true.
When Jericho had first met Atticus Mulvaney—now dubbed Freckles by anyone close to him—Seven and the other boys hadn’t really understood what Jericho saw in him. Like what could a vigilante mechanic from the slums want with a prissy doctor who also happened to be the son of a billionaire? Or vice versa? On paper, they made no sense.
It certainly wasn’t the money. Even now, Jericho still kept his garage open. Except now, he fixed carspro bono.
But as they’d gotten to know Atticus, they realized he wasn’t unkind, just guarded. He made Jericho insanely happy, and they’d even given Seven two little adopted brothers, Jett and Jagger. Seven trusted Freckles as much as he did Jericho. If Jericho hadn’t been available, Freckles would have been there solo.
They were his real family.
It was funny when people called Jericho a gold digger. Freckles was far more generous than Jericho. Freckles would have paid the bills of every one of Jericho’s boys if he’d let him. But they’d all been raised to stand on their own two feet. To work for what they wanted. They now teased Jericho a lot about how he lives in a penthouse in the fancy part of town, but truthfully, he’d earned every bit of luxury he had. Karmically, anyway.
A heavy hand settled on his shoulder, and Seven knew without looking that it was Jericho. Seven didn’t know how long he stood there, letting the older man comfort him, but he stayed there until he heard Jericho say, “Hey, man. What’s the word?”
Seven forced himself to step back, then turned to see Enzo standing there, expression grim. “Is it that bad?” he all but wailed.
“Relax, baby,” Enzo said, pulling Seven against him carefully, like he thought he might break. “I’ve got it under control.”
“What are we looking at?” Jericho asked over Seven’s head.
“It’s not good,” Enzo answered, absently rubbing Seven’s back. “I managed to have my mom call in a few favors and get Neith pushed to the front of the line so we can get her bailed out.”
“What are we talking?” Freckles asked.
Maybe Seven should have been offended that they were discussing things around him instead of with him, but he couldn’t really think straight at the moment. His rational thoughts had taken a vacation, leaving him with “I want my mom” playing on a loop in his head. He didn’t care how childish it was.
Enzo sighed. “They’re claiming that, over the last six months, Neith somehow managed to embezzle 1.3 million dollars from the company.”
“That’s fucking bullshit!” Seven shouted. “My mom didn’t steal anything.”
The officer at the desk shushed him with a scowl.
Seven gave him a nasty look in return. “Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize it was a fucking library.”
A guy sitting on a chair in the corner snickered at that, earning him a glare as well.
“Don’t piss me off, kid,” the officer snapped. “Or you’ll find yourself sitting next to your mother back there.”
It was on the tip of Seven’s tongue to tell the guy to go fuck himself, but Enzo just said, “Easy, baby. I can’t help your mom if I’m trying to bail you out of jail for disorderly conduct.” He squeezed the back of Seven’s neck in a way that made him want to purr.
“When’s the bail hearing?” Jericho asked.
“We got about twenty minutes to get across the street to courtroom sixteen. Judge Olivera. She’s usually pretty reasonable. It’s the ADA who’s kind of a twat. He thinks being an attorney is performance art or something.”
Freckles frowned. “Is there another way to get to the courthouse?”
Enzo stiffened. “Why?”
“Someone tipped off the press,” Jericho said, his disgust evident.
“The press? Why?” Seven asked, bewildered. “We’re not famous. Why would they care about this?”
Freckles sighed. “It could be anything. It’s a lot of money. It’s a charity. Your dad is a notorious bookie and suspected murderer, and she’s one of his many baby mamas. Or it could be that you are one of Jericho’s boys and he’s married to me, a Mulvaney. It could be that your mom and Enzo’s mom are close enough to have been photographed together several times.”
Francesca and his mother’s friendship wasn’t exactly new information. They’d been acquaintances before they’d joined forces and had only grown closer.
Apparently, Freckles wasn’t done yet. “Your best friend is also a Mulvaney and you guys have a fan base with your channel.”
Enzo looked at him. “Channel?”
