Page 59 of Butcher

“For their children?”

My eyes met his and I knew he could read the deadly intention there because he shifted in his seat. “I’d kill more than one person if anything happened to those kids.”

Daryl cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Son, you have people in your life who you love. In your own way, of course.” He stood up, clapped a hand on my shoulder, grabbed his coffee cup and walked outside, leaving me to my own thoughts.

I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, but when Toxic dropped down into the chair next to me and proceeded to stare,glassy-eyed, at the table, I shoved the now cold coffee cup in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“Your stripper gone?”

He grunted in affirmation. “Put her in a cab last night after she woke up. She’s not a stripper,” he added. “I have standards.”

“Those standards don’t involve potty training?”

“No gag reflex,” he replied.

I considered that. “Fair tradeoff then. Where the hell did you even find her anyway?”

He held up his phone. “Got a whole list, Brother.” I chuckled at that. “Why are you up so damn early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He focused on me, though his eyes were red rimmed from drinking and a lack of sleep. “I thought that was getting better. You know, since your little assassin showed up?”

Sleep had always been one of those things that I only did because my body forced me to. But it often took time for it to be worn down enough to actually let me sleep. “It is.”

“Then why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Not sure. Couldn’t seem to shut my brain off.” He sputtered on cold coffee and I shot him a dark look. “Glad you’re getting enjoyment out of this.”

“Out of seeing you act like an actual human?” He laughed. “Yeah, Butcher, I’m enjoying this.” He grinned when I gave him an unamused look. “You’re not that much different,” he continued, “but it’s just enough to give me hope that you’ll be a real boy someday.”

“Fuck off.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“What?”

“That was keeping you awake,” he prompted. “What was it you were thinking about?”

Did I really want to tell him? I’d already opened up more this morning than I had in a long damn time. “Nothing.”

“I’m guessing it was about your girl.”

“She’s not mine,” I muttered. I was just keeping her around until it was safe to let her go. Frowning, I wondered why the thought of her and Murder leaving made my gut twist.

“You’re wondering,” Toxic continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “where this is going.”

Was I?

“Whether you love her.”

Was this asshole psychic? Had he been taking lessons from Lockout? What the fuck was happening? It wasn’t about Isla as far as I could tell, but something was making me think about love. And whether it was an emotion I was capable of. Didn’t know why it suddenly mattered though.

Hush, Priest, and Hellfire came downstairs and sat down at our table.

“What’re we talkin’ about?” Hush asked. He looked tired.

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