“Don’t take too long,” she calls out after me. “Doug is on his way home, and dinner will be ready in ten.”
Heading up to my room, I dump my dirty clothes in the laundry and hop in the shower. I am coming downstairs in a clean shirt and jeans, in my bare feet, when Doug enters the house.
“Ares, my man.” Doug grabs me into a hug and slaps me on the back. I roll my eyes, even if he’s not the worst in the world. He makes Mom happy, and that’s all that matters. “Good first day?” he inquires, depositing his leather briefcase on the hall table.
“Yep.” I cut straight to the reason for my visit. “Do you have the equipment?”
Doug’s eyes flash in warning as he glances toward the door to the kitchen. “Not in front of your mother. We’ll talk after dinner.”
Nodding, I follow him into the kitchen, glad we are eating here and not in the stuffy dining room.
Mom sets heaping plates of moussaka in front of Doug before leaving bowls of ratatouille, rice, and salad in the middle of the table.
“There’s enough here to feed an army, Ma.” I scoop up a forkful of the minced lamb, eggplant, and potato mix, pleased she cooked my favorite dish.
It’s important to Mom we remember our Greek heritage, so she generally cooks a traditional meal at least once a week.
“I thought Ashley and Chad might join us for dinner,” she explains, sitting beside her new husband. “But they were both busy.” Her shoulders slump a little.
Doug chuckles. “She only just moved out, honey. You need to give her space to spread her wings.”
I smother a laugh. That’s a bit rich coming from the man who bought his only child an armored vehicle.
“I just miss her.”
I know Mom means that, which is problematic. When I destroy Ash, Mom is going to lose her shit with me. The thought makes me uncomfortable but not enough to change my plans. I don’t have that luxury. Every day that passes with no progress or new leads, that kernel of hope I’m nurturing fades a little.
Shoveling moussaka in my mouth, I force the food down over the painful lump in my throat.
“I’ll ask her to drop by on Sunday for dinner,” Doug supplies, circling his arm around Mom and squeezing.
“I’ll tell her,” I offer, purely so I can exclude pussy one from the invite. Seeing his girl leaving with me will seriously piss him off, and I live for that shit.
We chat casually the rest of the meal, and I help Mom with the cleanup while Doug goes upstairs to change out of his suit.
“How are things working out with you and Chad living in the same house?” Mom asks as I’m rinsing plates at the sink.
“Peachy.” It’s no lie. I’m perfectly happy with how things are going with the pussy. Doubt he’d make the same statement if you asked him though.
Mom sighs while stacking plates in the dishwasher. “It’s not Chad’s fault, Ares. You need to let that animosity go.”
Gripping the edge of the sink, I turn my head to look at my mother. “Give me proof he wasn’t involved, and maybe I’ll consider it.”
Glancing at the open door, she lowers her voice. “Give me proof hewas, and maybe I’ll agree you have a right to your vendetta.”
“Until we know either way, he’s on my shit list, and there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind.” I resume rinsing the dinnerware, finishing the last few items and stacking them in the dishwasher while Mom stands there looking troubled and lost in thought.
“Maybe it’s time we accepted the facts,” she whispers, staring at me through blurry eyes. “Maybe it’s time to admit defeat and let it go.”
“What?” Shock ripples through me. “No,” I bark, glaring at her. “How can you even say that?”
“It’s dangerous, Ares, and it’s changing you.” She clutches my hand. “You are all I have left. I will die if anything happens to you.”
My anger ebbs as quickly as it arrived. “Nothing is going to happen to me, Ma. I’m being smart. I’m biding my time even when I want to do the opposite.”
“What about The Bulls?” She casts a wary glance at the door.
“I’m beginning to think it’s a waste of my time.” I rub the back of my neck. “I still can’t get near Ruben.”
