AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I thought you only had a sister?”
Drake nods and I’m shocked Dex knows about Ruby, or frankly, anything about Drake. My brother’s not one to share much. “Kai’s practically family. We grew up in the same foster house and have been brothers since we were eleven.”
A look of understanding appears on Dax’s face as he looks between us. “Aaah, chosen family. Those turn out to be the best kind. So, what can I do for the two of you?”
Suddenly, I don’t feel so out of place. There’s a reason Drake brought me here. He seems to feel comfortable around this guy and that’s saying a lot coming from my standoffish best friend. Besides, they can’t be worse than the biker outlaws I know, or worse, men like Kane Dalton and Stephan Silver.
Instantly I’m back in a foul mood thinking of the fucking bastard Silver. “A drink,” I mutter, not giving Drake a chance to answer for us. “I need a stiff drink.”
“Well, you came to the right place. My man behind the counter knows how to make the meanest old fashion. Come on, son, any friend of Drake’s is a friend of mine.” Dex throws his arm over my shoulder and leads me to the right side of the room and toward a long, marbled bar stationed in front of a large mahogany shelf stacked with hundreds of liquor bottles.
“Lawrence,” Dex calls out, and the man from earlier with the skull tattoo, his skull, comes forward.
“What do you need, boss?”
“Get two of my finest Cubans, the ones with the little red ribbon on them. I’m going to share them with my new friends here.”
We reach the bar and take a seat on the black leather stools, but I don’t see anyone back there making drinks.
“Boy, you got the first night's customers,” Dex calls out, and I hear a sudden clinking of glasses coming from the floor.
A blond-haired little boy with the same almost neon green eyes as Dex, who can't possibly be older than five, pops out of nowhere, clearly kneeling on one of these stools behind the bar to reach the counter.
“The name’s Hendrix, but my friends call me Reaper,” he says, giving me his best shot at a wink.
“No one calls you Reaper kid,” another man, this one younger, more like Dex’s age, with light brown hair and a neck tattoo, appears shaking the kid’s head like you would pet a dog.
“Man Cal,” the kid groans, “I thought I told you to stop calling me kid in front of strangers.”
“Because they didn’t already know you were a kid. Come on son, you can’t even sit on the stool and reach the bar,” Cal, like the kid called him, finishes with a chuckle.
“This is my boy, Hendrix,” Dex beams as he looks at the kid. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. How on earth does this handsome young man have a four-year-old son?”
“Five dad, I’m almost five,” Hendrix interjects with an annoyed huff as he pours our drinks.
“My old lady and I got knocked up straight out of high school and were scared shirtless,” Dex confesses, “But I wouldn’t trade the little bugger for anything in the world.”
I chuckle at the way the kid grins at his father when, just a second ago, he was pouting.
“Callum Cruz,” the guy standing next to Dex says, extending his arm out to me. “Dex’s best friend and VP.”
“He’s my brother, chosen family,” Dex explains, repeating what he said earlier.
I nod in understanding as I take Cal’s hand in mine.
After about five minutes, Hendrix sets three glasses on the bar. The rest of the men, including Cal and Lawrence, are off drinking and playing a game of darts at the far end of the bar, while Dex took Hendrix up to the apartment on the second level of the place. Similar to how Zeke lives at Killian’s, Dex and his kid live here most nights. As expected, Hendrix had a lot to say about having a bedtime at the mature age of four and eight months. I have to admit I liked the kid, reminded me a bit of myself when I was his age, well except the loving relationship with his old man. I’ll admit I was envious of him for a second. A quick fleeting moment.
“So,” Drake mutters after a few minutes of silence. “Anything you want to talk about?” he asks, watching me with a quizzical expression I can’t decipher.
I scoff, “No, but I’m sure you do.” I shoot back the old fashion, irritated to find nobody behind the bar to make me another. It’s pretty good despite being made by a four-year-old.
“Look man,” he pauses, looking around to make sure there is no one listening. “There’s something I realized a few weeks ago when I found myself at Dex’s doorstep.” Drake stops talking again, as if giving me time to ask him what that life lesson was, but I don’t indulge him, so he continues. “Life’s too short Kai. There’s so much I regret not doing, shit I regret doing too, but I’m done sulking around because of the fucking life I was dealt. No one gives a fuck about the struggles we faced as kids or whatever messes we continue to see daily. It’s our life and if we don’t make the best of it, we’re going to lose it before we know it.”
I can’t help the snarky laugh that leaves me at the absurdity I’m hearing. Since when is Drake this fucking poetic and open with hisfeelings?If anything, he used to be worse than me. At least I’d use humor to deflect any uncomfortable conversations instead of just brooding like him. He wasn’t nicknamed the Dragon for no reason.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Damon?”
He shoots back his drink and clears his throat, deep green eyes looking uncannily grim. “Vicky, Dex’s girl, her name is Victoria Lockwood. She had a sister, Veronica Lockwood,” he takes a deep breath before he continues, “My dead mother.”
