“Cameron.”
He hesitates, like a fucking vampire waiting to be asked in. So, I do the honors.
“Come in.” I gesture to the seat in front of my desk.
He walks in, not before closing the door behind him, and all of a sudden it feels much smaller in here.
We don’t shake hands. We’re both as awkward as you’d expect after all these years. Let me tell you, he had a lot to say about it when me and Willow finally broke up. Here I was thinking he’d be over the moon, not yelling at me to grow some balls. I could never win with him.
“Got yourself set up, finally,” he says, looking around the office. We have nice digs, but it’s just bricks and mortar. He knows only too well how I’ve always wanted my own business. I just never had the money. “Did you get it legally?”
“Like I’d tell you.” I sit when he does, and he has the good sense to chagrin. “But if you’re askin’ if I’m a criminal, the answer is no.”
When he’s done examining my office with his eagle eye, he has no choice but to look at me.
“The NOLA Rebels MC.” He shakes his head. “I heard all about them from my daughter.”
“I’ll bet you have.”
He clears his throat. “Let’s cut to the chase of why I’m here, shall we?”
“After your cryptic message, I’m all ears.”
“I can assume we’re good to talk freely and off the record?”
“If that’s your way of askin’ if there’s any listenin’ devices, there aren’t,” I reply, annoyed. “You said Willow was in trouble. What kind of trouble?”
“The kind that can’t be overheard by the force.”
I stare at him for a long moment. His face is serious. The years are showing, but he’s still solid.
“Here I was thinkin’ you were all goddamn saints.”
“Only my daughter can be included in that statement.”
“Really?” I balk. “I really didn’t think you even cared.”
“We’re not here to discuss my shortcomings as a father, Austin.”
I fucking hate it when he uses my real name. It doesn’t have the same ring to it when Willow says it.
“In trouble with who?”
He assesses me for another infuriating moment before saying, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
I lean forward. “For a smart guy, you’re not really makin’ any sense.”
“Can I trust you?”
“You know you can,” I say. “Though, you didn’t think much of me before.”
He looks down at the desk, but I continue to stare at him. “The one thing about you is you can’t be corrupted.”
I frown. Is he fucking serious? I guess he really doesn’t know me at all. “Funny, that time you accused me of corruptin’ your daughter sure as hell sounded like I was the devil himself.”
“You don’t have children,” he fires back. “If you did, you’d knowexactlywhere I was coming from.”
Well, he’s got me there. I’ve never really thought too much about kids, or if I’d ever want any. The truth? Would I really want to bring a child into this motherfucking fucked up planet the way it is? I don’t think so.
