“I am his grandfather.”
“You’re a stranger to him,” I correct. “And right now, my son needs stability, especially considering the hell you put him through.”
“I have rights.”
I almost laugh. “You gave up those a long time ago.”
Silence stretches on the other end of the line, and I ball my hand into a fist.
I need to rein in my temper.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, Adrian Smirnov is a very serious enemy to have, and I can’t let this call turn into a pissing match.
I try to stay calm. “Look, if you’re willing to give it time, we can talk about you and Scout having a relationship further down the line.”
The lie falls easily from my tongue.
I will never willingly put Scout in the same room as the man who had his mother killed, but Adrian doesn’t need to know that yet.
“You’re asking for trust.”
“I’m asking for patience,” I clarify.
When Adrian says nothing, I continue. “Think about it and get back to me.”
I end the call before he has a chance to answer.
I stare at the dark screen, my reflection faint in the glass.
This isn’t going to go away. At some point, Scout is going to start asking even more questions, and I won’t be able to keep feeding him vague answers. Eventually, he is going to want the whole truth, and I need to be prepared for that.
The much stronger reality is that Scout might grow up to resent me for keeping his only living grandfather away fromhim, but how can I, in good conscience, let the man who murdered his mother back into his life?
I peel myself away from my computer long enough to put Scout to bed. I perch on the edge as he settles against the pillows, clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur.
The nightlight casts soft streaks of light across the walls, and I can hear Riley quietly humming a song as she tries to get Aubrey to sleep in the next room.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Do you not like my granddad? Is that why he was a secret?”
My stomach drops, but I try to keep my expression neutral. “What do you mean?”
“You were on the phone.”
“What?”
“When you were in Uncle Kieran’s office.”
“How do you know that?”
Scout lowers his eyes, and I know from the guilty expression on his face that he was eavesdropping.
“Scout,” I press.
“I wanted to come and find you to show you my new high score on Mario Kart,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to listen, but you sounded angry and I…”
