Kyle pulled back to pin me with a curious expression. “Did you bring us cupcakes?”
“Don’t I always?” After giving Sammy the stink-eye, I replied, “But they’re probably smushed after the way Sammy went about getting his present.”
While Sammy only giggled again, Kyle reasoned, “They’ll still taste good.”
“I hope so.”
Trying to change the subject, Sammy grabbed my hand and tugged me into the dining room. The table was set, and the delicious aroma of lasagna wafted through the air. “Hmm, something smells good,” I said, as I took my regular seat at the head of the table.
Sammy beamed. “It’s a new recipe.”
“He’s been working on it all day,” Quint grumbled.
As I placed a napkin in my lap, I glanced at Quint. “Was he hogging the kitchen again?”
Quint jogged his chin back and forth. “I could barely get in for tea time.”
Sammy rolled his eyes. “You have a setup in your room.”
With an indignant huff, Quint replied, “It’s only a Keurig. I can’t properly steep the tea leaves in my bedroom.”
“Oh brother,” Kyle muttered as he passed me the bread basket.
After taking a piece, I pinned Sammy with a look. “Samuel John Whitfield, what do you have to say for yourself?”
“It was a new recipe,” he argued.
Shaking my head, I replied, “You should share.”
“Fine,” he grunted before stuffing a bite of lasagna in his mouth.
“After dinner, I think it’s only fair you handle the dishes while Quint makes the two of us a lovely cup of tea.”
While Quint beamed, Sammy reluctantly nodded. After taking a bite of my lasagna, I moaned in appreciation. “This is better than Mom’s.
And with those simple words, I made Sammy’s week, and his smile made mine.
CHAPTER THREE: MASKIM
As I sped along the highway towards the Newark airport, my mind twisted and turned in a jangled mess. More than anything at the moment, I missed my fucking bodyguards. Whenever I attended a hunt, I refused them. My transformation into the Beast was something I didn’t want to share with anyone in my world. I didn’t give a fuck if it meant I was vulnerable to our enemies.
But now that I was trapped within the steel frame with my spiraling emotions, I wished for someone to take the wheel. To be able to dissociate and not have to concentrate on the road and the drivers around me. All I could do was dial Dima over and over again.
Every time his phone went to voicemail, my chest clenched tighter. With no outlet for my emotions, I took it out on Dima’s phone. “Answer my fucking calls,mudak! T-Tell me to my face if I’ve got a fucking b-bullseye on me from the Kavanaughs b-because of your actions!”
The fact that he was ignoring me made me livid. He’d truly morphed into our father, and it was fucking devastating. After losing his mother at Father’s hands, I never thought it would be possible. We’d spent years keeping each other from that fate.
And now he’d embraced the evil we’d despised.
About an hour outside of Newark, my phone finally rang. I growled in frustration at the sight of Aleks’s name on the screen. Without even a hello, I said, “Let me g-guess. We’re at war with the Kavanaughs.”
“Dima’s been shot.”
Every molecule in my body shuddered to a stop. “What?” I demanded.
“One of the Kavanaugh bodyguards returned fire when Dima shot at Kellan.”
“Was Kellan hit?”
