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“What’s going on?” I ask, worried now. Anything regarding Lennon makes me a little uncomfortable lately. It’s like a queasy feeling, and I don’t know how to make it go away.
“We need to expose and unmask Grant and Xav for their crimes. I have the backing from my bosses, but this is going to bring possible media attention for the band and Lennon,” Greg explains. “We won’t be discussing private things in the investigation or what happened to her, but there won’t be anywhere for him to hide.”
“Or they go dark,” I mutter. “I saw an odd advertisement on the dark web just now. They were asking for forged documents for three and a snatch and grab. I didn’t have time to dig further, but I think we should in case it’s Grant and Xav.”
Greg gives me a measuring look and I sigh. “Please don’t give me shit for my illegal activities, Greg.”
He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Kid, do you want a job? I’m about to take away your livelihood, the least I can do is employ you,” he says with a shrug. “You’ll get to torture and kill people, get some extra training under your belt, and hone your skills.”
I was just thinking about how I wanted to improve my hacking skills…
“You’re better than I am with computer stuff, can you teach me so I can really help?” I ask, because he’s right.
I would rather be on the right side of things, and still let the blood flow.
Greg looks surprised that I’m asking for help, but the last thing I am is an egomaniac. It’s just that I have so few people in my life that it would occur to me to ask.
“Yeah, we can provide training on that, too. Are you particularly tied to Kentucky?” he asks, and I can see there are wheels turning in his head.
“Nah, I just live here because I grew up here, and then Grant offered me a job,” I tell Greg with a shrug.
“What are you cooking up, old man,” Roark rumbles as he starts plating what looks like sandwiches.
“I’m not that fucking old, Roark. I’m only two years older than you,” Greg groans as Roark snickers.
“Whatever, Dad,” he says and I press my lips together to hide my amusement.
I’m not comfortable laughing with them, especially for something that appears to be an inside joke. Derek chuckles as he watches them.
“Are you going back to Georgetown once you tie things up here?” Derek asks.
I am beginning to see where this is going…
“Yep. There’s a safe house for you all with your name on it if you want it once Lennon can travel. I do need to talk to her, but now isn’t the time. I hate that she’s dealing with withdrawal symptoms and an infection on top of everything else,” Greg sighs. “She needs a goddamn break.”
“Eat this, Greg. When’s the last time you ate?” Roark asks as he sets what looks to be a cheese sandwich with tomato and bacon in it.
Greg looks down and grins. “Damn, I haven’t had one of these in way too long. Tori and Tesa love these things,” he says appreciatively. Taking a bite of his sandwich, he sighs happily. “Fuck, that’s good. Uh, I’m thinking don’t rush me. I had a bag of potato chips two hours ago, but nothing else.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Ror is gonna kick your ass. You need to take care of yourself,” he says, taking a bite of his own sandwich.
Roark puts a plate down on the counter, jutting his chin over to me to eat. I’m not usually someone who likes sandwiches, but they all seem to be enjoying it. Taking a careful bite with the bacon and tomato, my eyes widen.
“Wow,” I mutter, chewing. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a grilled cheese sandwich before. I have no idea why now that I’m eating one.”
No one discusses how odd that is, instead they all shrug it off. “My wife loves these,” Greg chuckles as he polishes off his sandwich.
Roark places another plate piled high with more, then sits at the counter to eat with us.
“Red taught Lennon the art of adult grilled sandwiches once when we were on tour,” he laughs. “She was absolutely obsessed for a while. They’re so easy to make, and fooking delicious.”
I nod, because they’re really good. We devour the meal, and Roark says he’ll make Turner something later. He doesn’t want to bring food into the room and set Lennon off, which is a good idea.
“So, Orion.” Greg smirks as he finishes his last bite and drains his beer. “What do you say about the job offer? Are you in?”
I knew he wouldn’t let me ignore it. I want to answer, but there are some things I need to make clear.
“I just have some questions, first, if you don’t mind?” Greg opens his hands as if to tell me to go ahead.
