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“Is this for me?” My voice was so high-pitched that I didn’t recognize it.
“Yeah, kiddo.” He crossed his arms in front of him, looking completely satisfied. “All yours. Consider it a belated birthday gift.”
I sat on a stool and practically bounced on the seat. My birthday was seven months ago, but I didn’t care.
“First things first,” he grinned at me. “We’ll be looking for Ajax LeBlanc–”
“I’ll scan CCTVs and see if I can track him down.” I interrupted.
He smiled at my eagerness. “Then we’ll be looking a little more into your cousins.”
“Why?” I asked. I was still unsure if I wanted to meet them. I was even less sure that they’d want to meet me.
“Take the fact that they’re your last living blood relation out of the equation,” he said, “We’re now a team. And I’m on a mission to bring those guys into the fold. I mean, to get them to be hired guns for the good guys.”
“And the good guys are… Americans?” I wanted to confirm.
“That’s a complicated question.” He put down his mug of coffee with a level of finality. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It’s something you’ll get a feel for overtime.”
He tapped his finger on the kitchen counter, looking at me sideways.
“You should probably start calling me Dad.” He looked uneasy, drilling his finger into the countertop. “I know you have a thing with your father, and…”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted him, putting him out of his misery. “Uhmm… I can do that.”
“Yeah?” He looked relieved. “It doesn’t have to be all the time…”
“No, I get it,” I interrupted, “If you don’t want me to do it in private, that’s…”
“No, that’s not what I meant, kiddo.” We were going in circles. “I just meant that I want you to be comfortable with whatever is happening. I won’t mind when you call me… You know…”
“Dad,” I said, trying the word out on my lips, “You won’t mind if I call you Dad.”
He let out a sad sigh, staring at my face. I knew what he was doing. He was looking for a downturn of my lips, a flinch in my eye, the millisecond crease on my brow. He was watching my micro-expressions. But he had taught me to relax my face and not give any tells, and I was a good student.
I turned and started typing on the computer, jumping into the video feeds of the CCTVs around the arena where I had fought less than a week ago.
Brett stood, hovering over me for a while, still staring at me.
“I’ll be in the other room, on my laptop, seeing if I can find anything else out.” He said, before moving away.
“Thanks, Dad.” I said, without raising my head from the laptop.
He halted in his tracks. I saw it from my peripheral vision. But then he regained his step and walked on into the next room.
Chapter 14
Alastair - Up-State New York
Eoghansatatthehead of the table. The modern, polished wood could seat sixteen people, but tonight it only held three lonely souls. I sat to Eoghan’s left, and to his right was Hugo, staring at a piece of meat he had pierced with a silver fork.
“How’s Aoibheann? Doesn’t she come down for dinner?” I asked, inquiring about my uncle’s widow. “Are we going to go in there and find her crawling up the yellow wallpaper?”
“Her wallpaper is green.” Eoghan deadpanned, but he knew what I was asking. “I don’t give a shit what that witch does.”
“You still think she killed him?” I asked, laughing to myself.
It was a far-fetched idea, but Eoghan truly believed that his father was murdered by the wee thing. She was harmless. Not like my Rose, who could pummel a grown man. Aoibheann’s biceps were smaller than the joint of her elbow. She could barely lift a fork, much less do anything to harm a man like Uncle Alastair.
