Page 7 of Legacy of Chaos

“Sarcasm?”

“No. Seriously. They gave no indication at all.”

Kynan gave Stryke a resigned nod and looked down at the time on his comms device. “I need to go, but thanks for seeing me.” They both got to their feet. “One more thing.”

Fuck.

Don’t say it.

“We’re having an office party for your mom’s birthday Friday after work. You’re invited.”

He said it.

“I’ll try to make it.”

“No, you won’t.” Kynan spoke as he downloaded the 3D weapon designs into his comms. “But you should. How long has it been since you’ve seen her? A couple of years? How long since you’ve seen all your family together? Ten years?”

Twelve.

“Make an effort,” Ky said. “Your mom misses you.”

Stryke forced a smile to keep from clenching his jaw. “If we’re done with the guilt trip portion of our meeting, you can see yourself out.”

Kynan nodded and headed for the exit, but as the elevator door opened, he turned back to Stryke, his expression apologetic. “I didn’t want to do this, Stryke. He guilted me into it.”

“Who guilted you into what?”

A big, dark-haired male dressed from head to toe in black leather exited the elevator, and Stryke’s gut plummeted to his feet. “Dad.”

Shock collided with anger that Kynan would sneak his father in like this. And what the hell? Why hadn’t his assistant warned him?

But Kalishadtried, hadn’t she? Dammit. He’d cut her off.

Kynan stepped inside the elevator and gave Stryke a fatherly look. The one that said, “Do the right thing.”

Yeah, well, in this case, the right thing was avoiding being anywhere near his family. His presence put a damper on everything. Eventually, tension would spark an angry fire that would smolder for years.

No, thank you. Nothing Kynan or his father could say would change his mind.

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for three months,” Shade said, stopping halfway between the elevator and Stryke’s desk. He glanced around, his dark eyes taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows, the wall of computers, and the expensive, randomartwork Stryke had put up for the sole purpose of making people speculate about why he’d chosen it. In truth, he hated all of it. Art was messy and chaotic, and it rarely made sense. “Is there a reason you can’t answer a damned techmail?”

Kynan would pay for this.

“Your techmails consisted of details about the party for Mom, but they said nothing about an RSVP. I saw no reason to reply since you didn’t ask if I was coming.”

“That’s because pressuring you has never worked and usually ends in the exact opposite of what your mom or I want. But this is important. DART is presenting her with an award for her contributions and support, and it would mean a lot if you were there.”

Stryke swept some pens off his desk into a drawer and slammed it shut. “No one wants me there, Pops.”

“This isn’t about you or your brothers,” his father said. “It’s about your mom.Shewants you there.”

“And what do you want?” Stryke regretted the question the second it fell from his lips. It hung in the tense, thick air between them for an agonizingly long time.

Finally, Shade shook his head. “I want our family to heal.”

“And you think my attendance at a party can do that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. “But it would be a start. And it can’t hurt.”

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