"Looks like you're the third one to join the daddy club," Steel says with a grin. "Tank, Rage, and now Torch. Who's next, Beast?"
Beast flips him off. "Not anytime soon."
The meeting breaks up, and the conversation changes to other topics as we move back to the main room. I grab a beer, just one,and try to relax, but my mind keeps drifting back to Sidney and Max.
"You look like shit," King says, appearing beside me.
"Thanks, brother. Just what I needed to hear."
He smirks. "I mean you look stressed. This is a lot to take in."
"No kidding." I take a long pull from my beer. "Yesterday I was a free man. Today I'm responsible for a kid I didn't know existed and a woman I barely remember from three years ago."
"What's your read on her? The mother."
I consider the question. "She's... tired. Stressed. But she's a good mom. Kid's clean, well-behaved, obviously loved. She did her best on her own."
"And now?"
"Now?" I shrug. "I help. It's my responsibility too."
King nods, approval in his eyes. "That's the right answer. But be careful. Make sure she's being straight with you."
"She is," I say, more confidently than I feel. "You should have seen her face when the dentist said he wouldn't charge us. Like she couldn't believe something was finally going her way."
"Dentist?"
"Kid had an infected tooth. Been in pain for weeks because she couldn't afford to take him in. That's why we were late today. I called in that favor Harrison owed us."
"Good call. You’re going to do great, okay?"
"Thanks." The support from my brothers means more than I can express. "I should head back soon. Kid's on antibiotics, still recovering from the procedure."
"Go," King says. "We've got coverage for everything here."
I finish my beer and stand, suddenly eager to get back to... what? The responsibility? The chaos? The strangers living in my house?
No. To Max. To my son.
I say quick goodbyes and head out, stopping on impulse at a toy store I pass on the way home. I've never been inside a toy store before, and the sheer volume of options is overwhelming. What does a two-year-old boy like? Sidney mentioned animals and trucks, so I gravitate toward those sections.
Twenty minutes later, I leave with more bags than I intended: a stuffed dog, a set of toy cars, wooden blocks, and a picture book about a father and son going fishing. The last one made my throat tight in the store, and I almost put it back, but something compelled me to buy it.
The smell of home-cooked food hits me when I open my front door, something so unfamiliar in my house that I pause on the threshold. Sidney is in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that smells amazing. Max is on the living room floor, running his toy truck along the coffee table.
He looks up when I enter, his face brightening. "Bike man!"
"Hey, buddy," I say, setting down my bags. "Feeling better?"
He nods enthusiastically. "Yeaaah. Ice cream for lunch!"
"Special treat for being brave," I agree, crouching to his level. "I brought you something."
His eyes widen as I reach into one of the bags, pulling out the stuffed dog. "For me?"
"Yeah, for you." I hand him the toy, something tightening in my chest when he hugs it immediately.
"What do you say, Max?" Sidney prompts from the kitchen doorway.
