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“A conspiracy,” H spat.
“Yeah, a conspiracy. That’s what they call it when a bunch of people get together to plot against someone else,” Daire said, continuing with his cooking. “That conspiracy caused the Olympus exodus a year ago. Z got wind of Zulu and was coming back to execute anyone who knew about it. Everyone fled. The building was empty in under an hour. Harry wasn’t on site. I was.”
“Yeah, and I came back for you,” H said. “Minotaur was gone. Z said—”
“That I was his,” Daire said, retrieving a plate. “Yeah, we got that yesterday.”
“A conspiracy…” she said. “Why after all these years would you go after him? If he’s this big, scary evil—”
“It wasn’t me,” H said, folding his newspaper. “I was approached.”
“A restructure,” Daire said, scooping something onto a plate. With it in hand, he turned to slide the plate onto the table in front of her. “When?”
H laid the paper on the table and angled himself to look at the man putting flatware down by her plate. “When?”
“Did they approach you?” Daire asked.
“Less than a year before the shutdown.”
“Month.”
Obviously confused, H took a second to answer. “August.”
“May,” Daire said. The angle of H’s head shifted in a slow arc. “They offered it to me.”
He went back to the stove.
The moment Daire’s back was turned, H leaped out of the dinette. “You didn’t tell me?”
“Like father like son.”
“I didn’t tell you to protect you,” H argued. “I didn’t want you to have to make a choice.”
Those words reminded her of the letter in the nightstand. The one H hadn’t read.
“I did make a choice,” Daire said, measuring his tone. “I told them I didn’t want it. That until you were cold in the ground of natural causes, I wouldn’t even consider it.” He tossed the spatula to the counter and spun to face H. “Were you so fucking stupid to think they’d stop at Z? There was no way they’d let you and Garrick take over. They wanted new blood. ‘Cept someone taught me to think three moves ahead. If they’d get rid of Z so quick, you would be next. I wouldn’t be a part of that.”
He was angry, it was in his words, his tone. The tension in his shoulders tempted her to ease it, but he wasn’t hers to touch. Never had been. His anger, his woes, they were his. Secret. Private.
“I knew the risks,” H said. “It made sense to be on the inside, to know what they were thinking.”
“But you didn’t think I deserved to know,” Daire said, pausing in his return to the stove to point at her plate. “Eat.”
She didn’t pick up her fork until he was cracking eggs. The omelet with mushroom and cheese was perfection. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but it was better than anything she’d have produced.
“I should’ve told you,” H said.
Like watching a drama unfold, she paused, eyes wide, fork halfway to her mouth, poised to see what Daire would do.
“Yeah,” was all Daire said.
“I should have,” H said, reducing the distance between them. His desire to heal their damaged relationship seemed genuine. Though what did she know. “I made a decision about what I thought was best for you.”
“Or you didn’t trust me,” Daire said. “If you thought I’d go with Z a year ago, you thought it when the Six brought Zulu to you… You thought I would risk not only your life, but Styx, and all the guys. Why? So I could run to Z and get a pat on the head?”
“I was wrong,” H said, piquing Daire’s attention. Obviously those words didn’t come out of H’s mouth often. “That’s all I can say. I made the wrong call and I’m sorry.”
A long pause followed.
