Page 53 of Cause Of Death

She grabs Steve’s empty hand and leads him through to the kitchen as Leslie and Kimberly follow Kieran down another hallway. I collect the remaining shopping bags and haul them into the kitchen to prepare our go-to Italian-style feast.

It’s not until Leslie pokes me in the ass that I look at my watch, surprised to see just how much time has passed. The panzanella salad is resting in the fridge, along with the toppings for the bruschetta. Disa is putting the finishing touches on her tiramisu, and Steve has the garlic bread ready for the oven. Kimberly is gently stirring the fettuccine carbonara on the stove,and Kieran is busy ferrying cutlery over to the dining table, where Adam is setting out the plates and glassware.

I’m the only one still unwashed and unprepared for Edgar’s arrival.

“C’mon, Hen. This way. Have one of those infamous two-minute showers of yours, and I’ll get your clothes ready for you. Edgar should be arriving in about fifteen minutes or so according to Kieran, so you’ve got time.”

I don’t argue.

Edgar Prince is notwhat I expect. He’s a similar height to Leslie’s five foot eleven, and if I was to hazard a guess as to his occupation without knowing a thing about him, I’d guess a tradesman of some sort. His hands are heavily calloused, as though he uses them roughly on a daily basis, and while his shoulders aren’t as broad as mine or Steve’s, or even Adam’s, they still give off an aura of strength and dependability. While his dark hair has mostly gone to gray, as has the short beard covering his jaw and chin, it’s still thick and wavy. Hazel eyes full of warmth beam at me, the lines at the corners denoting him as a man who laughs and smiles often. Looks-wise, Edgar reminds me of an older version of the guy who played Hector in the movieTroy. He’s affable and easygoing, and I can’t bring myself to understand how the two people closest to him could betray him like they have.

Shaking his hand, I introduce myself, and then the rest of our group. The way Edgar seamlessly slides into our dynamic is a wonder to watch, and I can only hope that his ease with us continues after we shatter his world.

The topic is unavoidable. But not before dinner.

At Kieran and Adam’s behest, the rest of us sit at the table while they bring out the food and wine, and the entire meal feels like we’ve been doing this for years. There’s no initial awkwardness, no stilted conversations or jokes that fall flat. Only natural and genuine friendship, banter, and laughter.

It’s a shame we have to ruin it all.

“Dinner was delicious, thank you all so much. Please, know that I’malwaysopen for future invitations to join you all, if this is the type of company and conversation I can expect!” Edgar is effusive in his praise, which makes me want to adopt him as my own father-figure all the more. Perhaps, later down the track, he can become an honorary pack member or something. But before we can even consider that, conversations need to be had.

“Steve, come and help me clear the table and do the dishes, yeah?” I call over to my sigma, but Adam takes the plates from my hands, nudging me to the side.

“I’ve got this. You go and sit with our omegas and Leslie. Kimmy, Steve, and me will clear all this up and get started on the coffees. I think we’ll need something a little harder to go with them, but Steve and Kimberly can fill me in on everyone’s preferences while you all talk.”

I nod, leaving the three of them behind to join the others in the living room. Kieran is sitting on one of the sofas with his father, with Leslie and Disa perched on the one opposite. I hover for a moment, unsure where I’m needed most, until a shiver of nerves tweaks me.

Kieran it is.

I cross to his side, surprising a squawk out of him as I lift him and then situate him to my liking across my lap. I’m not about to loom over him and his father, and this way I can calm him with my purr if he becomes too agitated or distraught.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the day when my son found not one, buttwoalphas to dote on him, although I’m not surprised. He’s always been like a beacon for alphas, all of them hovering moths to his beautiful flame. But something tells me that this isn’t going to be a pretty chat. So, Kieran, stop your panicking. I love you, you’re my son, and nothing you can say or do will ever change that. What’s going on?”

I feel Kieran’s chest swelling beneath my arms as he sucks in a deep breath then releases it in a whoosh.

“Dad, I have a rather odd question to ask you before we get into everything.” Kieran pauses, waiting for his father’s permission before continuing. At Edgar’s nod, Kieran blurts his query in a jumbled rush.

“Whydidyoustopgoingawayonbusinesssomuch?”

Edgar blinks, then shakes his head in confusion.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that a little slower, son?”

I rub my hand up and down Kieran’s spine, mindful of the lingering bruises and scabs from his wounds. Kieran clears his throat and then repeats his question, but at a less-rapid pace.

“Why did you stop going away on business so much?”

Edgar smiles and waves a hand, a small chuckle causing his chest to shudder.

“Oh! You had me worried for a moment there. You probably don’t remember this, because we tried to make sure you weren’t aware, but when you were about seven years old, your mother and I went through a rather rough patch in our marriage. She was incredibly unhappy and lonely at being left behind, when prior to your birth she’d generally accompany me if I was going to be away longer than a single night. She had you, of course, but a child is no comparison to adult company, no matter how wonderful that child may be. It took some effort between the both of us, as well as marriage counseling, but we came through the other side stronger than ever. I decided that my family wasmore important than money, so asked Taylor to take over some more of the more distant business as he was still footloose and fancy-free.”

Kieran nods, his father’s words putting one question to bed, while opening the door to another.

“How did you know that my mother was unhappy? Did she say something to you?”

Edgar grimaces, wiping a hand over his face.

“Honestly, it was you rather than your mother that made me twig that something was wrong. You were becoming more withdrawn and quieter, no longer excited to see me. You’ve never really been a momma’s boy, but you pulled away from her even more so, to the point where you’d hunch over or run away if she tried to hug or kiss you.”

---