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“Stop.” If he kept speaking, he’d tell Dash and Tristan who my father was. I wanted it to come from me.
The staredown between the two of us lasted at least sixty seconds before Jordan sighed and visibly deflated. I was stubborn as fuck when I wanted to be. Chasing away the men who accepted me and my panic attacks was not an option. At least not yet. After they got the entire story, they might run scared.
9
DASH
There was a mafia boss standing in Romeo’s living room and Romeo was arguing with him. I wasn’t the type to easily back off, but facing Jordan Altair Sr. wasn’t the same as helping deal with an unruly fan.
No one had to tell me his name. Those who lived in and around Dremest knew of him. If his face wasn’t easy enough to pick out, his clothes, his cars, and his guards didn’t make him subtle.
I slowly got up and inched my way toward Romeo. Jordan tracked my movement. “Uh, angel?”
Romeo sighed, his shoulders slumping. I hated seeing the defeat written on his face when he turned toward me. “Dash, Tristan, meet some of my baggage, Jordan Altair Senior. The rest can’t be seen.”
“Baggage,” Jordan scoffed. He started walking across the room toward us, drawing my body tight with tension. “I’m more than baggage. I’m the one who will kill you both if you harm a single cell on Romeo’s body. If you think that’s an empty threat, you’re wrong. I always have a gun on me. I always have guards nearby. And while you might see them as the muscle, I can assure you, I pack enough pain for anyone living on this earth.”
“You’re nothing like your son,” I said. I probably shouldn’t have, but damn, this guy was the opposite of JJ.
Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “Speak of my son again and I will cut out your tongue.”
I was about to say something witty, but Romeo moved in front of me, dragging Jordan’s attention from me to him.
“No one’s getting violent,” Romeo stated. “But since we’re all here for this fucked-up trip down murder memory lane, let’s kick Bruno and Ajax out and have a seat at the table so we can at least eat. I’m starving.”
The look on Jordan’s face transformed in a split second from murderous to concerned. It was jarring, to say the least. “Are you okay? Do you need some juice or milk to bring your sugar up? Bruno!” Jordan snapped. “Help Romeo.”
Bruno rushed into the kitchen, searching through cabinets until he found a glass.
“You don’t need to do that,” Romeo told him. “I’m fine. No sugar drop. I’m not diabetic, remember?”
Reaching into his pocket, Jordan pulled out his phone. “I’m going to text my doctor and get him over here. When was the last time you had bloodwork done? How’s your cholesterol? We should have that checked as well. Your vitamin levels too. You don’t get enough sun.”
“What’s happening?” Tristan asked behind me. I hadn’t realized he’d stood or he put his shirt on.
“I’m not sure,” I whispered. “I think Jordan is trying to be a… I don’t know… Maybe a concerned sort of father?”
“I heard you,” Jordan bit out.
“I’m not getting my cholesterol or blood sugar checked,” Romeo stated. “I just want a fucking sandwich.” He peered at me and Tristan over his shoulder. “Do you like ham and cheese?”
“Sure. I’ll take any meat I can get.” I winked.
There was Jordan, glaring at me again, before moving to Romeo. “This is who you choose? A man who makes meat jokes?”
“Live a little, Jordy,” I said without thinking. Then, because I was apparently wading into the deep end of this shit, I added, “Take the stick out of your ass while you’re at it. Doesn’t it hurt to clench like that all the time?”
Faces rarely changed to the angry shade of purplish-red Jordan’s did, or I hadn’t seen them do so. “If Romeo hadn’t already chosen you as his, I would put a bullet in your head for speaking to me that way.”
Tristan’s hand wrapped around my forearm. “Dash, stop,” he whispered.
Of course, I didn’t. “Next time I see JJ, I’m going to congratulate him on escaping you with the kindness he has. If this is the way you greet everyone you meet, I pity them.” No one had ever called me smart.
The way Jordan studied me should have sent creepy chills down my spine. I hadn’t met him before. Why would I? We didn’t run in the same groups. I played drums for a living, and he disemboweled people.
“You’re a prick,” he said. “You say things you shouldn’t, regardless of what might happen. I could kill you. There’s a gun in a holster under my jacket, which I’m certain you’ve probably guessed. Is the goal to appear as not to care about me or about what I think?”
I shrugged. “I’m leaning toward what you think. It’s obvious you care about Romeo. He must give half a fuck about you if you can waltz into his place like you do. I’d like to see where this goes between him, me, and Tristan. I can’t be a total asshole to you, no matter how much I want to be. If you’re in his life, you’re here for a reason. I want a spot there as well, just not next to you. Iwant to be seated at his table while you scowl in the corner far away from us.” I shooed him with my hand.
