“Thanks, Cap,” I start, but the look he gives me tells me he’s not done.
“It was a rough call today, and Camilo told me to make sure you didn’t do that thing you like to do where you bury your feelings in cooking.”
“I resent that.” And it’s the truth, but only because I’ve always struggled to handle it when people see me. When they can see past the mask and the shadows I put up.
Thank fuck these guys weren’t around when I was in high school.
I take a deep breath, then turn away from the pan and fold my arms over my chest. “Look, I like cooking, okay? It helps me unwind and keeps me from losing it after a bad call. Which today wasn’t. It was stressful, but I think Easton took it harder than me.”
Lex glances to the side, and his shoulders tense a little. “We talked. He’s okay. And I called to confirm the kid’s alright.”
That makes me feel better. “Hopefully, his dickhead dad got his head out of his ass.”
Lex gives me a look. I don’t talk about my stepdad with anyone, but a few of them know bits and pieces of my past. He doesn’t try to call me on it though. “If it makes you feel better, Logan tried the pizza and turned green. He won’t ever make that mistake again.”
I try not to laugh, but it really is the worst fucking pizza in town. I’m half-convinced it’s a front for mafia activity because there is no way they have enough customers to stay in business. Also, schmoozing first responders is the first step before bribing cops.
Maybe.
Probably.
At any rate, it’s shady.
“I guess he can stay,” I tell him, and Lex rolls his eyes, but he reaches past me to grab the stack of plates.
“I’ll take these to the table. And thank you for taking care of us.”
I shrug. It’s what I do. I’ve always felt responsible for some reason…which I say as though my therapist didn’t point out that I had made it my mission in life to get my mom back on track after Jimmy went to prison and the girls were removed from thehome. She said I was parentified, but instead of parenting my sisters, I became that for my mother and well…I guess it stuck.
I transfer the carbonara to a bowl, then pull the garlic bread out of the oven, and I feel a little spark of pride at the fact that it’s golden and crispy—exactly as it should be.
“North?”
I blink and realize Lex is hovering in the doorway, staring at me with a small frown. “Sorry. Got lost for a second.”
“Do you want me to talk to Camilo and see if he’s got enough coverage to let you go a little early? I mean, you’re over forty, right?”
“I need the money,” I answer from behind a sigh. It’s always like this at the end of the month. Mom has her rent due, and while my mortgage on my shitty little fixer-upper is small enough for me to afford, the payments will be coming in like clockwork for the next thirty years.
I don’t have time to take a break.
“North—”
“I’m fine, really. It’s just been a long day.” I give him something that feels like a smile but probably isn’t, then make my way into our makeshift dining room, where everyone is gathering, looking hungry.
I feel better like this. I can forget like this—at least for a little while—that I’m not even sure where I belong anymore.
And if this is where I want to be.
THREE
LEO
Murder is illegal.
Murderis illegal.
Murderisillegal.
