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Half a drink down and Paco’s tie on the counter, he began to open up. With a long release of a breath, he rubbed the back of his neck. “This kid shows up from out of nowhere. At DGI headquarters.”
“When?” Alex probed.
Paco took another sip. “A month…ish.”
“What?” Alex leaned in, stunned. “You’ve held an underaged kid at a clandestine compound for a month?”
Paco shrugged it off. “Six weeks, give or take. But we’ve been working with the authorities and Child Protective Services. Here’s the thing. He has no ID, and the name he gave me…I don’t think it’s his. I’ve called him by it dozens of times. It always takes him a little too long to answer to it.”
“What name did he give you?”
Paco frowned and shook his head. “He said it was AJ.” Alex choked, coughing up bourbon at the startling sound of his old nickname. Paco patted him on the back and continued. “And says his friends all call him Alex.”
It was Alex’s turn to frown, the disappointment bitter on his tongue. This kid was a walking, talking Alex in the making, but that didn’t make the teenagerhis.
He took a moment and poured another drink. He studied his friend, determined to read Paco’s thoughts. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Paco clasped his hands and steepled his fingers at Alex. “This kid is so much like you, it’s freaking me the fuck out. The way he rakes a hand through his hair when he clings to his composure. Or smirks ever so slightly when he knows he has the upper hand.”
“Like this?” Alex smirked for effect.
By the roll of Paco’s eyes, he nailed it. Paco continued. “Or has an addiction to peanut M&M’s.”
Alex pulled a pack from his jacket pocket and tore it open. “They’re delicious. Everyone loves them.” He emptied a few in his mouth, and lighthearted offered Paco some.
“Not even if they were my only shot at surviving a Zombie apocalypse.” Paco wasn’t allergic to peanuts. He just burned out on them during one too many missions with Alex.
“What else?” Alex asked, keen with interest.
“Oh, yes. He was found by a security guard at Drake Global Industries, hiding out in a bathroom with a four-thousand dollar laptop, which, by the way, he used to hack into DGI’s mainframe.”
A smile crept up one side of Alex’s mouth. “Is it too soon for pride?”
Paco huffed. “It’s too fucking soon for you to be planning father-son fishing trips and Yankees games.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We don’t know who he is.”
He’s my son.The words nearly formed on Alex’s lips, but his jaw clenched hard.
No matter how much his heart wanted to believe it, he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling gnawing at the pit of his gut. Something was off…
Why can’t I put my finger on it?
He refocused on his friend, glum as he propped his head on his hand and stared as his drink. Alex bumped his elbow. “You’re now one of the most powerful men in the free world, Paco. With your resources, you could trace the ancestry of a gnat on the ass of a camel in Dubai. Ever heard of a paternity test?”
“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” Paco narrowed his eyes. “Oh, wait. I remember. Because as Alex 2.0 reminded me, trademark smirk in tact, he’s fifteen fucking years old, and without parental consent, access to his blood, spit, hair, and pee are strictly off limits.” He quoted the air, frustrated.
Alex laughed. The kid was right. A little saliva from a toothbrush was wrong. Easy, but wrong.
Was the kid the spitting image of him, from his ruffled hair to his gives-zero-fucks glint in his eyes? A thousand percent. Was it enough for Alex to give parental consent?
Nope.
Alex leaned back, bested by a teenager. He didn’twantanswers. He needed them.
Impatient, Alex huffed an annoyed breath. “Where is this kid’s mother?”
Heavy regret weighed down Paco’s broad shoulders. “I don’t know. Dead is a definite possibility.”
Alex let that sink in. Who was his mother? If this kid was fifteen, and Alex did the math, that year was definitely a peak year for notches on his bedpost.
