“Gross,” Shep called back.
“And I’m not just saying that to scare you.” Caleb raised his voice so that Shep could hear him even as he made his way for the trees. “I’m speaking from experience.”
It was true—Everett had been there to witness it, not that he cared to remember. It had been a quintessentially Caleb moment, which meant that it was harebrained and problematic. Luckily, Caleb had grown out of that phase. Sort of. Enough that Everett could justify sticking around.
Shep lifted an arm high over his head and waved it in acknowledgment, but didn’t otherwise reply. It wasn’t long before he disappeared amongst the trees.
“He’s gonna be okay, right?” Caleb asked. He shifted Parker’s weight from arm to arm while Parker chatted and babbled. “I feel like I’ve got a handle on the whole baby thing, but I don’t know how to be a good role model. All the shit he’s gone through… it makes me worry.”
“I think you’re doing a fine job.” Everett took Caleb’s arm and tugged him to his side. They stood with their backs to the truck, their eyes set somewhere on the horizon. The crunch of Shep’s footsteps as he waded through fallen leaves gradually receded until only the thump of steel-toed boots on the truck’s metal ramp and grunts as the workers hauled heavy furniture and boxes remained. “Teenagers are like kids on hard mode. Every now and then, you’re bound to make a mistake, but I think the important part is not giving up. No matter how distant Shep seems, he needs us. One day he’ll appreciate the way we were there for him.”
Caleb snorted. “Just in time for Parker to hit his teens.”
Everett was about to reply when the approaching clunk of heavy boots alerted him to the arrival of one of the movers. The man carried a large box in his arms, identifiable as belonging to Shep by the black, glittery washi tape that Jayne had stuck to all four outward-facing walls. Each of the boxes in the truck was similarly branded—glittery red, blue, green, yellow, and white tape revealed which room the boxes belonged to at a glance.
“Hey,” the man said. “Where do you want this box?”
“Upstairs, second door on the right,” Everett said automatically. “Thank you.”
The man left, but the encounter stuck with Everett, who frowned. Jayne had been directing the movers, and it wasn’t like him to leave a job partially finished. Everett leaned forward and craned his neck to see if he could spot Jayne elsewhere by the front of the house, but as far as he could tell, Jayne was gone.
“Did Jayne say anything to you about needing to take a bathroom break?” Everett asked Caleb. “It’s not like him to disappear.”
“Nope. I don’t know where he is.” Caleb tickled Parker’s chest, causing Parker to give up his one-way conversation so he could laugh. “Do you know where your dad went? Huh, Parker? You’ve been suspiciously chatty this whole time. Was it all a ploy to keep us distracted while you had him sent away?”
Parker’s laughter turned shrill. He fixed his eyes on Caleb and grabbed a fistful of Caleb’s shirt, anchoring them together. Time stopped, and all the hairs on Everett’s arms rose as emotion overtook him. Six months ago, Caleb would have proudly stated that he’d never be a father—that kids were fine in small doses, but that he couldn’t handle anything more. He wasn’t dad material. But over the last few months, Everett had seen the change in him, and the more he saw Caleb interact with Parker, the more he believed that Caleb’s original assessment had been wrong. Caring for children came to Caleb naturally. He was a good dad.
“I bet you did it.” Caleb winked at Parker and ruffled his hair. Time resumed its normal course, but the pleasure Everett felt at seeing Caleb embrace a new side of himself remained. “You’re sneaky like that. But seriously, where is Jayne? If I mess up and send a box to the wrong room—which you know is gonna happen if I’m left in charge—there’ll be hell to pay, and I’m not prepared to dish out that kind of coin.”
Everett snorted. “It’ll blow over soon enough.”
“Says the man who gets to escape to work every night,” Caleb teased. He placed a gentle kiss on Everett’s temple.
After several serious conversations between the three of them and a few chats with his father, Everett had made a decision about his career. For now, he’d gradually assume more responsibility until he swapped places with his father, leaving Everett in charge and his father in an assisting role. After crunching the numbers and looking at financial projections for the next several years, they’d agreed that The Shepherd could support another full-time manager. The individual, whoever they might be, would work in tandem with Everett to keep the club running smoothly. Clarissa had refused the position when offered, but had mentioned that she had a candidate or two in mind.
By splitting the night with a manager, Everett would be able to start his shifts much later in the evening and take the occasional weekend off, allowing him to spend more time with Jayne and Caleb. It meant a reduction in salary, but the time Everett would gain in compensation was more than worth it. He didn’t have to give up his career to make his family work—all he had to do was strike a balance. On paper it looked perfect, and Everett had hopes that it would go just as well in execution.
“Anyway,” Caleb began, then stopped himself short. Jayne had darted out from around the house at a full sprint and made a mad dash for them, his phone clenched in his hand.
The hair on the back of Everett’s neck stood on end, and his pulse quickened. The muscles in his arms and legs tightened, and he braced himself for a fight. Without any idea of what was going on, he could only make assumptions about what had made Jayne bolt, and none of them were good. Over the last few months, there’d been little news about Bastian, and while Jayne had been in regular contact with the police, their vague reassurance that everything was being taken care of had been troubling at best. If that bastard had followed their moving van to their new house and was looking to cause trouble, Everett wouldn’t hold back. By no means was he as quick to turn to violence as Caleb had once been, but when it came to Bastian, Everett wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch.
Or ten.
“Jayne?” Caleb’s voice was stripped of humor. It was rare for him to sound so serious. “What’s going on?”
“Bastian,” Jayne gasped as he skidded to a stop in front of them. He braced his hands on his thighs and panted for breath. “He…”
Blood rushed into Everett’s ears, and he stepped aside to see if he could spot Bastian elsewhere on their property. As far as he could tell, Bastian wasn’t slinking around by the side of the house, but he could have sought cover in the woods, and that meant that Shep was in danger. There wasn’t time to wait for an explanation—Everett took off, but before he could get more than two steps, Jayne snagged his arm and forced him to stop.
“No.”
“No?” Everett pulled his arm back from Jayne, his skin hot and his heart racing. “If Bastian’s out there—”
“He’s not.” Jayne waved his phone as he panted for breath, as if that would be explanation enough. “He’s gone.”
“Gone?” Caleb demanded. He held Parker protectively in his arms, shielding his head. “What do you mean,gone?Where did he go?”
Jayne sucked in a deep breath and stood straight. “I mean, he’s been sentenced. He’s going to jail.”
