My middle kid was a phenomenal cook and I’d hoped he’d channel that into a career one day. He had other plans, ones that included law-enforcement, which I was not happy about, but his mother had made me promise our kids would have the choice not to join my club, and because I loved her beyond reason, I’d agreed.
“Yeah, I guess,” Drake said.
“What else do you have to do?”
“Oh, maybe seeing Alyssa,” he retorted.
“Still?” Orion asked. “Wow, that’s like a month.”
I grinned. Drake tended to fuck more than commit, so the fact he was still with Alyssa was a bit of a surprise. I liked Alyssa. She was nice. But I worried that she might be too nice and her hero worship for my son was a definite concern.
“Fuck you,” Drake retorted.
I chuckled. “You start cookin’. I’m gonna talk to Ori for a minute.”
“Are you eating?” Drake asked Orion. Valid question since Orion was spending more time with Raquel of late.
“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks,” Orion said, and I led him back to the den.
I closed the door and leaned against it. “So, it wasn’t Jaws.”
I’d called the president of the Apex Predators this morning, and he’d assured me he had nothing to do with burning our warehouse. It was looking like the Apex Predators’ were prepping for a coup, and although their current President, Jaws, was aware something was going down, he wasn’t sure what or when.
Orion shook his head. “Orca and Zilla.”
“Fuck me,” I said, flopping onto the sofa.
Jesus, I was exhausted. I did not need this shit.
Orion pulled one of his chairs to the edge of the sofa and sat down, stretching his legs out and setting his feet on a sofa cushion. “Zilla and I had a really nice conversation. He’s not gonna be able to jerk off for at least a month.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not,” he admitted.
“How’s Raquel?” I asked.
“Hurtin’.”
“Jesus, we’re gonna need to nip this shit in the bud.”
“Agreed.” He dragged his hands down his face. “Sorry about the shit I said about Mom.”
To say my relationship with my oldest son was complicated was an understatement. He’d been hit the hardest by the death of my wife and I knew if I was going to pass my patch on to him, he needed to know the truth.
All the ugly, ugly, fuckin’ truth.
“About that,” I said, leaning forward and settling my elbows on my knees.
Orion studied me warily. “I don’t want to fight, Pops.”
“Me neither, but there’s something you need to know.” I met his eyes. “You think you can stay calm?”
“Jesus, what the fuck?”
I sat back again. “That’s a no.”
Orion leaned toward me. “Tell me.”
