Dorian

 

My father slid my phone across the counter, something I hadn’t seen since we’d all left town. I turned off the water from the kitchen sink, then wiped my hands on a dish towel. I’d finished rinsing the dishes from dinner anyway.

Dad nodded at the phone, more casual today and in both demeanor and dress. All his buddies and friends were out here with us, visiting us for the next couple days. It was the first time we’d all been a group since, well, things had happened.

My god dads and their wives had even brought my friends too, all of us really together.

Dad folded his arms. “I figured since your friends are here anyway,” he said, shrugging. “Might as well give that back to you.”

My friends were all cleaning up from dinner, something all us guys had opted to do. We figured it was the least we could all do and that freed up Bow, the moms, and Billie (LJ’s wife) to head out and go shopping. It’d also get them out of the house.

We needed to talk.

The guys and I waited, cleaning. I’d offered to do the dishes after the group dinner with the families while my friends cleared the dining room and handed me stuff. The dads and LJ liked to talk, though, so it’d taken them a while to leave the dining room. They’d cooked barbecue for the whole group this evening, all of us at another one of my parents’ cabins. This one was out of state. It took a drive to get here, but it was quiet.

It’d been nice as fuck actually, and the first time I hadn’t been worried about bullshit. Of course, that worry could never really leave.

My grandfather was still out there.

I needed news today, limited here out in the boonies. Outside of my laptop (which I could only use for school), I had nothing to link me to the outside world. As far as my parents were concerned, that’d been a good thing. I’d fucked up, majorly. I got internet access for school, then my dad effectively cut it off. He and Mom used their own devices and a hotspot for working remotely.

Needless to say, they didn’t give me the password.

I’d take all the hits in the world, a small price to pay. They were here, and they were safe, and I’d play solitaire all damn day for that.

My father’s logic sound, I took my phone back and happily. “Thanks.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” he said, but I noticed he didn’t leave my side. He hitched a hip against the counter. “The guys and I are going to go meet the girls at the shops. We’re going to catch an evening movie if you boys want to join.”

Normally, I might. Especially to get out of the cabin, but I couldn’t right now. I’d literally heard nothing from the outside world since we’d gotten here. I needed news about back home and my friends were going to give me that.

Everyone being out at a movie was the perfect opportunity for us guys to sit down and go over stuff. “Probably will just stick around here.”

“Figured. Your friends being here and all that.” He pushed off the counter. “If you reconsider, you can join us.”

My parents had been doing well since I got here. Especially my mother. She and my dad took the boat out on the lake all the time, and Mom was sailing better than him these days.

She really had been doing much better since she’d gotten here, which was another reason I stayed quiet and didn’t complain about being restricted. I wanted her to feel good, get better. It was these days she was waking me up. She and my dad went for runs in the morning before their remote workdays, and when I did get my ass up, I joined them. It kept me in shape for football, the team ready and waiting for me when I got back. Dad had talked to Coach about my spot and informed me the team would manage until my return. Dad even practiced with me to keep up with my game when he had time, and he hated football.

Being up here had been our family’s own little oasis and so easy to forget the shit back home, shit I’d created. There were true horrors outside these walls, shit that kept me up at night and dreading the day my dad decided to come back to the town of Maywood Heights.

Dad lingered for a second, outlining his mouth. He only did that when he wanted to talk. He lifted a hand. “You know, we never really talked about everything after it all happened. What you did and why regarding your uncle.”

We hadn’t, and I was well aware of that. I was happy for that. Both my parents had been tiptoeing around the issue, and fuck if I’d bring it up. There was already enough bullshit.

There was already enough pain.

“Charlie’s truth needed to come out,” I said, and I didn’t regret what I’d done. I may have regretted the fallout, and the way I’d gone about it, but I didn’t regret it. “I’m sorry, but…”

“I’m not talking about that, Dorian.”

My eyebrow arched, and he folded his hand over his face.

“I’m talking about the fact that my son is in pain,” he said, my heart jolting. “He is, and he won’t talk to me. He won’t talk to his mother. He’d rather do stuff like this, stuff with his friends instead of trusting me or his mother.”

I said nothing, my throat constricting. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” he stated, my eyes twitching. He nodded. “Because you’re so much like me. So, so much, son.”

But that wasn’t a bad thing. That was a great thing. I admired my father so much. “I didn’t want to hurt you and Mom. Especially if I was wrong about more going on that night. That night with Charlie?”

I’d only had a feeling, and why cause unnecessary pain if I didn’t know? It was the same reason I was keeping shit from them now. For all I knew, this shit with my grandfather… it could be nothing. He could just be trying to scare me.

I hoped he was only trying to scare me.

“And we don’t want you hurting.” Dad’s hand folded on my shoulder. “So just talk to us next time. Vent to us.” His lips tightened. “That stuff with the video shouldn’t have happened. You should have trusted me and your mother if you believed something more was going on.” He sighed. “You should have trusted me.”

I did trust him, and he was right.

I was so much like him. I was, and because I was, I couldn’t do what he said. I had to protect him too, him and Mom.

I have to know the truth.

I nodded because I had to in that moment, hating lying to my dad. He’d go to the ends of the earth for me.

“If you boys leave, don’t go far,” he said. He left, but I only stood in the kitchen for a few moments. After feeding Chestnut (we’d brought her with us), I looked around the cabin for my friends.

I ended up finding Wells and Thatcher in the dining room still. They had the rags they’d used to wipe down the table folded. Sitting in two of the dining room chairs, they had their thumbs dashing across their phones.

They stopped when I came in, my thoughts still turning from the conversation with my dad. Wells frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied, outlining my mouth. I would talk to my dad. I would, but only if and when I thought it was necessary. I wasn’t quite sure yet as I approached my friends. I gazed around. “Where’s Wolf?”

“Smoking.” This came from Thatcher. He sat up. “Said he needed to think. Went outside after we finished in here.”

I wished I was out there with him, a strong blunt needed to calm me down right now.

Wells said he texted him to come inside, and while we waited, Thatcher got his laptop out. He booted it up. “Where’s your dad?”

“He, the dads, and LJ all went to the shops. They’re meeting up with our moms, Billie, and Bow for a movie.”

Thatcher tapped some keys. “That gives us some solid hours, then.”

My gaze directed to my buddy at the door, Wolf sauntering in. He had a beanie on over his hair, one he pulled off when he came into the room.

I gave him my hand. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He pulled me in, real quiet at dinner. We’d all been, and I was surprised none of our parents had called us out. We’d definitely exchanged looks between us. We had shit to talk about, but no opportunity.

At least until now, the cabin quiet. I tapped Wolf’s fist. “You were smoking?”

“Yeah, just needed to get out of my head.” He angled his gaze around. “Where are the dads?”

We told him, and after we did, he closed the door. We all convened at a corner of the large oak table, long enough to literally seat everyone, our parents and Bow included. When my parents had bought this place, my dad had intended for the cabin to be a home away from home, one all the families could go to and had over the years. My buddies and I had spent countless summers here, so many good times had.

“Where’s my grandfather?” I asked, getting right into things. “He still in town?”

“Nah.” Wolf put his hands together. “Had Thatcher track him.”

“He made it easy.” Thatcher shrugged. “I didn’t have to do much, and actually, I thought it’d be harder. You never told Wolf where you thought he went after he dropped you off, but fucker popped up at the first hotel I called. I started with those, the nicest ones I could think of downtown, thinking maybe he was staying at one.”

“Good idea,” I said. “That’s where he was staying?”

“Yeah, and using that fake-ass name he’s been going under.” He swiveled his computer around, his screen filled with pinpoints on a Maywood Heights’s town map. “There wasn’t much movement after that. Though I don’t know where he was before I identified him. I was able to get his whereabouts the next day in the evening.” Thatcher clicked around. “He was at that hotel and didn’t really move after that. He went to the store a couple times, late. But other than that, nothing. We had some stoner asshole track his movements for a hundred bucks while we were all at school or with our parents.”

“I took up the shifts after that, watching him?” Wells lifted a hand. “He didn’t really do anything, D. Nothing weird anyway.”

“And he only stayed a few days.” Wolf nodded. “He left just like he told you he would.”

That didn’t mean much to me. “Where is he now?”

Thatcher clicked a button on his computer. “Last we could track him was the airport. Stoner guy told us he booked a flight to India.”

“India?”

Thatcher put his hands together. “He’s got businesses there. Just built an airport actually and has a nice little paper trail for that fake-ass name. If he was trying to hide something from someone, he’s doing a shitty-ass job. Callum Montgomery has lots of businesses in India, and they appear legitimate. In fact, all his businesses do. He’s a land developer. Been out there for years, I guess.”

“What about the name Montgomery?”

“Couldn’t find any ties back to you or your family.” Thatcher sat back. “It’s a pretty common name, and the only thing I could find was another Callum Montgomery, but that was way before Callum Prinze’s time, your grandfather?” Thatcher shook his head. “Anyway, that family was a bunch of bootleggers.”

“Basically nothing of note.” Wolf captured my attention, frowning. “I don’t know what your grandfather is doing, but we couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. He and his new name seem to be on the up-and-up.”

Squeaky clean, which was in itself very telling.

“What about Sloane and her brother?” I asked, surprised by my initial reaction. I managed to contain everything inside me, my anger, my rage wrapped all up in a tight little box. Noa Sloane had crossed my thoughts more than once.

Enough where my runs hadn’t just been in the mornings with my parents.

I’d sweated that shit out, nightly for what felt like a solid week, and even then, rogue thoughts lingered. Her poison had embedded deep, but I managed to keep my shit together.

I managed to not do something stupid.

I kept it all on lock, good at that, and coming out of my head, I noticed my buddies. They’d gotten real quiet, and Thatcher and Wells diverted their attention to Wolf. He had offered to look into the Sloane situation for me.

“Wolf?” I questioned. “What did you find out?”

Again, I surprised myself. My voice was level, even.

Bracing his arms, my buddy leaned forward and a silver chain hung from around his neck. I hadn’t seen the thing in years, something he’d gotten as a kid. He said his parents had given it to him.

The bottom of the emblem grazed the table, Wolf wetting his lips. “Didn’t find anything off about her either. Her brother?” He placed a hand on the table. “I kept an eye on them both. Even set up a camera outside their house.”

“And?”

“Normal shit. They do normal shit. Sloane goes to school. Her brother at home.” He raised a hand. “He even seems to be sick. They had some doctor come over for him the other day. Had Thatch run the guy’s plates.”

Thatcher pulled thick fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Guy works in pediatrics. Some doctor who runs a private practice upstate.”

“What about her parents?” My jaw tightened. “Her connection to my grandfather?”

“Thatch looked into that.” Wells patted Thatch’s arm. “Her dad’s name is Godfrey Sloane. He was on your grandfather’s payroll before your gramps went to prison. Worked for one of his factories.”

“He’s deceased,” Thatcher confirmed. “Found his death certificate. Marilyn Sloane, Sloane and Bru’s mom, too. She died in—”

“A home break-in.”

Thatcher looked at me. The room did. Thatcher nodded. “Yeah.” He frowned. “How did you know?”

I knew what she’d told me. I knew the facts, but what I didn’t know were the lies. 

I had a feeling they stacked.

Her backstory only supported that, a girl with nothing, her and her brother…

Trash.

That had been Wolf’s word for her once upon a time, but then, I’d had no reason to have thoughts about it. I’d been neutral in that regard. Noa had only been the girl in the way back then.

Not a device my grandfather was using.

Her place in this town didn’t make sense, a rogue piece, and I didn’t like rogue fucking variables.

“She came over to my house.”

The room’s attention shifted back to Thatcher after what he said. He grunted. “The little bitch weaseled her way into my house. Got close to my family.”

“The fuck?” I sat up. “Why? How?”

“Bow made it sound like Mom invited her for dinner. The two of them ran into her at the store, I guess, but it doesn’t sound much like my sister fought her on the decision.” Sighing, Thatcher pulled a hand down his face. “We might just want to bring my sister in. She doesn’t understand why Noa’s a threat. The girl got in my house, bro. Again, after already manipulating my little sister once, and that does not sit well with me. I don’t know what the fuck she was up to this time, but she came over while Wells and I were at practice.”

“It was a good thing we got out early.” Wells shrugged. “She left after we got there, and that girl’s a good fucking actress. Thatcher and I saw her crying in her car on her way off the property, really hamming shit up after Thatcher and I got to her.”

“Or maybe we should consider that she wasn’t.”

Wolf had, again, been quiet up to this point. He’d been present for this part of the conversation, but he’d been quiet nonetheless.

He had his fingers laced together, his thumb flicking that emblem at his neck, and I turned completely in his direction. I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

He’d said some shit like this before, questioning my thoughts on the matter. He did this even when no other conclusions made sense, and that only heightened the situation.

This shit was already enough for me, enduring this shit and the deceit Noa Sloane clearly had no issue taking part in. I didn’t know what my grandfather was doing either, but she was right in the center of it.

Wolf opened his hands, looking at me. “I talked to her.”

My brow jumped. “What?”

He put a finger on the table. “You told me to look into this situation. You told me to get the truth.” He huffed. “Now, I’m not saying I have that, but we might want to consider a scenario in which she and her brother have nothing to do with your grandfather.”

“They have nothing to do with him.” I smirked, but nothing was fucking funny here. “They’re living in his house, bro. Playing around with his money. Going to my school, a school where his grandson happens to go.”

Wolf rubbed his mouth. “According to Sloane, her dad had a will. A will in which he named your grandpa as guardian.”

“So?”

“So the man was the guy’s boss.” Wolf put out a hand. “He worked for your grandfather like Thatcher confirmed, and according to Sloane, their dad didn’t even have much to fucking fill a will with. Their family couldn’t even rub two cents together, so what kind of poor fuck has a will in the first place—”

“Someone who’s lying.” I swallowed. “Someone who’s a liar, and by talking to his daughter, you’ve probably put all this shit on my grandfather’s radar. That we’re looking into him and this? Sloane probably walked that information right up to my grandpa.”

“I was careful.” Wolf nodded. “I’d always be careful.” He lifted a hand. “I got her thinking we’re working on a project together.”

“A project?”

He acknowledged that, his hands tucking under his arms. “Yeah. She’s into art. I got her talking. It was a casual conversation while we worked. I made sure of that.”

Thatcher and Wells remained silent at this point in the conversation. They exchanged a glance before Wolf sighed.

“Of course, I’d be careful, D,” he started, but then his phone buzzed. With another sigh, he picked it up. I wondered who was texting him since we were all here. I guess it could have been his parents.

“Fuck,” he growled, getting up. “I need to go do something. It can’t wait. I…” His teeth lodged into his lip. “Just trust me, okay? I’m doing everything I can to figure this out for you. I swear to God.”

I knew he was. He was the first one to take the reins with all this, tell me not to worry, and I only did that because I trusted him.

“Wolf—”

He didn’t answer me, leaving the room. I put my hands together, and Wells and Thatcher shifted in their seats. They studied the other again, and I opened my hands.

“What?” I asked, and Wells shrugged.

“They’ve just been spending a lot of time together,” he said.

“Who?”

“Wolf. Sloane?” Wells returned. “And he wasn’t telling you the whole truth about that project.” Wells jutted his chin at Thatcher. “Tell him.”

Thatcher closed his laptop. “Bow saw Wolf and Sloane together at school. She thought it was weird because we told her to stay the fuck away from the girl. She asked me what was up with that, and since I didn’t know, I asked Wolf. That’s when Wells and I found out about his little CIA undercover mission.” He waved a hand between Wells and himself. “He didn’t even tell us about it.”

He didn’t have to technically. I mean, he probably should have, but he didn’t have to. Especially if he was trying to keep it quiet and suspicions low.

“I told him to watch her,” I said. “He’s just doing what I asked.”

“Yeah, well, he’s doing a real good job of it.” Thatcher leaned back. “He’s spending all kinds of time with her, and we know that because I had Wells watch him after Bow told us what kind of project it was.”

I didn’t understand, and Wells huffed.

“It’s Ares’s senior project, bro,” Wells stated, my brow twitching. “Exactly. Why the fuck would he have her work on that with him? That shit means too much to him.”

“He’s acting weird,” Thatcher surmised. “Real weird. You know how protective Wolf is over any of his art. Let alone the thing that’s supposed to get him into fucking college.”

I did know, my buddy’s art rarely seen. Outside of us and his family, Wolf’s art was his life. He didn’t expose that part of himself to people a lot.

And he was sharing that with Sloane?

That didn’t make any fucking sense. None of us guys got to see his shit all the time, and we were his best friends.

Something didn’t sit right, something weird like what Thatcher said. I picked up the phone, texting Wolf. I was going to give him a second to explain himself.

Because he had a lot to fucking explain.

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