I nod. Quick is a mercy Diego doesn’t deserve, but it’s efficient, and we need to get moving on the information we have.
I pick up the knife, moving behind Diego’s chair.
“Wait, please, I have a family, I have?—”
“You should have thought about that before you helped attack mine,” I say.
And I make it quick.
Marcus and Chen handle the disposal while I clean up. By the time we’re done, there’s no evidence Diego Ruiz was ever here. The body will be gone by morning, dissolved in chemicals, scattered in places no one will ever find.
As far as the world is concerned, Diego Ruiz decided to leave town. Quit his job without notice. Disappeared.
It happens.
Charles and I drive back separately. He’s already on the phone, coordinating with his people, building plans based on the information we extracted.
I head home.
To Parker’s guest house, where Noah and Liam are waiting.
Where my family is.
My phone buzzes as I drive. A text from Cal.
Boys are asking for you. Hurry.
I’m already pushing the speed limit, adrenaline and urgency making my hands tight on the wheel.
Diego Ruiz gave us what we needed. The network Ryan and Aria built. The proof of their betrayal. The beginnings of a trail we can follow.
But right now, none of that matters as much as getting home to two five-year-old boys who need to know I came back like I promised.
That I’ll always come back.
Because that’s what fathers do.
And I’m their father, whether biology confirms it or not.
45
PARKER
Ican’t sleep.
The house is quiet—too quiet despite having four other people in it. Jace is asleep on my bed with Liam curled into his side, both of them finally peaceful after hours of Liam asking questions to keep himself from closing his eyes. Cal is on the other side, Noah wrapped around him like a koala. It was adorable watching my son’s grip tighten every time Cal tried to lay him down earlier. Cal eventually gave up and settled in with Noah plastered to his chest.
It’s a sight I never thought I’d see.
Never thought I’d experience.
Three men I love, scattered across my bed with my children, all of them finally sleeping after the worst day any of us have had in recent memory.
But Silas isn’t here.
And I can’t sleep until he is.
I’ve been sitting in the armchair by the window for the past hour, watching the driveway, waiting for headlights that haven’t come. My phone is in my hand, no new messages since Cal texted me two hours ago that Silas was finishing up and would be home soon.
