Page 85 of Resilience

Above the desk was a bank of monitors, showing the station, the bike lot, the alley, the various exterior doors. Sam knew Apollo could toggle to show the goings-on in most of the rooms inside the clubhouse and the station, too. Only the crash pads and the chapel were without cameras. He also knew that Apollo had the whole system rigged so the main recordings wiped every twelve hours, but those twelve hours of footage got sent untraceably to a secure server offsite.

He'd always been a little intimidated by the things Apollo and Jazz could do with tech. His own skill was good enough to set up a pretty rad gaming system in his room, and solve the usual home tech issues, but he was completely baffled by a lot of the club’s tech shit. And impressed as fuck.

There was no other chair in the room, so Sam stood awkwardly beside the desk while Apollo glared up at him.

“I can explain,” he said when Apollo didn’t immediately lunge at him with murder in his eyes. “I promise I didn’t—” He cut off when Apollo’s hand shot up.

Then Athena’s father smiled. It was a small thing, jockeying for space with obvious anger, and Sam didn’t know what to make of it.

“You’re not in trouble, Sam.”

“I’m not?” he asked stupidly.

Apollo cocked his head. “Should you be?”

“No. No, sorry. I just ... I want you to know that I didn’t do anything Athena didn’t want last night. I know she ... I thought she’d want to wait after ... what happened, but she didn’t. I promise I didn’t push.”

“I believe you. I won’t say I loved seeing my little girl like that, but if I had to, seeing her with you is the only way it’s bearable.” His smile deepened to something more comfortable. “She looked like she felt safe.”

“She’s always safe with me.”

“I know.”

“Okay ... then ... why do you want to talk? I don’t want to sound impatient, but last night was our first time, and I left her alone upstairs, so ...”

“You didn’t think to leave a fuckin’ note?” Athena’s father signed as well as spoke. He managed to convey twice the irritation, communicating in two ways simultaneously.

“I did, I sent her a text. But that’s not the same.”

After a moment’s study of him, Apollo said, “You’re a good man, Sam.”

Stress left Sam’s spine with such speed he thought he’d fall over.

As if he realized it, Apollo leaned over, dragged a folded metal chair out from between two shelving units, and popped it open. “Have a seat. We’ll be quick as we can.”

Sam sat. And then the door swung open and banged against the back of the chair hard enough to shock the shit out of him. He whipped around and found Athena standing there, dressed but her hair still in its sex-and-sleep tousle.

“You stole my boyfriend!” she told her father, her hands flying so that they clapped each time they came together. Angry as she was, Sam felt a zing of serotonin at the word boyfriend. “Don’t pull any alpha bullshit, Dad,” Athena continued, still whipping her hands around. “I’m a grownup.”

“Calm down—” Apollo started. Athena cut him off with a stomp of her foot.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

Sam was within reach of her, so he caught and held her hand for a moment. Athena didn’t like her hands held, especially not when she was upset, so he let go as soon as he had her attention. “It’s okay. I’m not here to get in trouble.”

“Then what?” she asked as anger began to cede ground to confusion.

Sam still didn’t know the answer to that question, so he looked to Apollo.

Apollo sighed heavily. “There’s only one chair.”

Athena immediately plopped onto Sam’s lap and crossed her arms. Sam could see only part of her profile, but he knew that set of her jaw, and he almost laughed. This microscopic woman was utterly immovable in this mood.

Her father knew it as well as Sam did, and he didn’t try to fight it. “I wanted to talk to Sam about dealing with Hunter.”

“And you didn’t want me to be part of it? Dad, we talked about this!”

“I planned to tell you—but I did not agree to let you be involved. You insisting is not the end of the matter, Athena. It’s my call.”

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