Joey sighed and held out his phone.
If you touch the Sons, I can’t protect you.
Harding grunted.“Darling Papa?”he asked sardonically.
“I’m afraid so.I’m going to need—”
“Another encrypted phone,” Harding said on a sigh.“I hear you.More concerning, though, is the message.Did you have any idea your sperm donor was involved with the Sons?”
Joey shook his head and shrugged.“No, but it doesn’t surprise me.That fucker tends to control people with blackmail, and the Sons of the Blood areveryblackmailable, if you know what I mean.”
“It follows,” Harding said mildly.What he meant—and what they’d all ranted about over the last month—was that someone with the sort of pathology that had them willing to set their house on fire before letting a woman, minority, or member of the LGBTQ community lend them a hose was often weak enough to be involved in any number of sins: From drugs to prostitution to gambling, to name the big three.At the very least, fraud made a frequent appearance.Sometimes, Carlyle believed, because racists were too fucking stupid to understand that they couldn’t just take shit that didn’t belong to them without consequences.
“So odds are, some of the guys paying Dad for protection or whatever are on our hit list.Just… you know.Be aware.”
Harding nodded and chewed steadily, setting the sandwich down after he swallowed.“I should have gotten a soda,” he mused.
“I’ll get it, sir,” Joey said, standing up.“That way I don’t have to stare at my own sandwich while I wait for Gid.”
At that moment Gideon stuck his head in.“I’ll get the sodas.I could really use some cold and sweet myself.”
He disappeared, and Harding’s unexpectedly expressive eyes caught Joey’s.
“How are you guys?”he said softly.“This is a lot of pressure for two people.”
Joey blinked, surprised at the question—and also absurdly touched.“He wants to be out to the team,” he said.“But he gets why I think we shouldn’t.I mean, Jesus, let’s wait until Crosby’s safe at the very fucking least, okay?”
Harding shrugged.“It’s sound logic,” he agreed.“But I think the team could handle it—they might boggle, causelookat you, but they can handle you two as a couple.”
Joey shook his head and thought of how Crosby had worn an almost permanent blush the day they’d moved him into Garcia’s spare room.
“Let’s give Crosby and Garcia some attention,” he said after a minute.“I want them home and safe and this Sons of the Blood nightmare behind us.I mean, this thing with my dad?It’ll come soon enough.It’s like… like when that dog attacked.Crosby shot the drug dealer reaching for his gun because that was the shot he had.I shot the fucking dog because that was the shotIhad, and that was what I could do.We know the dog’s out there, Boss.We know he’s gonna bite us in the ass.But right now we’ve got the Sons of the Blood, and they’re all fucking armed, so we gotta take care of them first.And when the dog sinks his teeth into my ass, I hope the rest of you all have my back.”
“No question,” Harding said soberly.“Believe it, Joey.Just like with Crosby.We didn’t desert him, we won’t desert you.”
Gideon’s squeeze of his shoulder told Joey that he’d heard and agreed.
He proceeded to set down the soda cans, one of which he pulled out of his pocket.Joey, who was almost done with his latte, gave him a smile evenheknew was besotted.
“Carlyle?”Harding said, lips twitching as he picked up his sandwich and prepared to do more damage.
“Yeah, Boss,” Joey said, jerking his attention back with an effort.
“If you don’t want to be out to the team, you gotta not look at him like that.”
Joey realized he had thestupidestexpression on his face, sort of a goofy combination of worship and desire and gratitude, and he bit his lip and stared down at his own sandwich.
“Well, it’s not my fault if they figure it out,” he mumbled, unwrapping his sandwich with a sigh.“I mean, we work with detectives, right?”
Gideon’s chuckle warmed him—almost as much as Gideon’s knee, pressed gently next to his own.
“Also,” Harding said, pulling a napkin from the center of the table and wiping his mouth with it, “Natalia knows.”
Joey puffed out a breath, not surprised.Harding and Natalia were partners and, as far as he could see, one of the best couples he knew.Unlike him and Gid, or Crosby and Garcia, they were platonic, but super extra tight that way.
“I do,” Natalia said, coming into the conference room and surprising Joey—and Gideon from his expression—but not Harding.“And since we all know, I’m going to come eat my sandwich.I’ve beenwaitingfor this.”She rummaged through the minifridge and came back withherpaper-wrapped bundle, as well as a bottle of hand-brewed kombucha.“So,” she said, elbowing Harding to let her in, “have we discussed Joey’s family yet, because I amdyingto dissect his father’s brain.With a butter knife.”
Joey snickered into his sandwich, and the rest of lunch was spent in a pleasant game of “revenge,” and the grim fantasy did alotto alleviate some of the brain-crunching stress he’d felt when his phone had buzzed that morning.
