Page 16 of Prodigal Son

“Dad,” Fox said.

The same moment Eden said, “That’s enough!”

A thin, brittle silence fell.

The other girl, Axelle, fished a crumpled pack of Marlboros from her pocket. “Mind if I smoke?” A token question; she was already shaking one out.

“I do, yeah,” Albie said. He was all ruffled-feathers now; he sounded like someone’s grandmother, but couldn’t seem to switch it off. “The furniture’ll smell like it.”

Axelle huffed a sigh, but put the smokes away.

“Alright, then,” Eden said, and Albie didn’t want her here, but he had to admire her composure in the moment. Strain painted shallow lines around her mouth and eyes; the lines of jaw and cheek looked suddenly fragile and more feminine than normal. Devin, as was his infuriating habit, had hit the nail on the head: Eden’s mum was a harpy, and even as a grown woman, disappointing her stung.

Parent/child relationships evolved sometimes. But mostly, they didn’t.

“Everyone, this is my mother, Vivian Adkins. Mum, you know Charlie. This is his brother, Albie, and his father, Devin Green.”

“Hmph.” Vivian turned to regard her daughter. “What happened?”

No doubt they’d talked over the phone, but that wasn’t what she was asking.Whydid this happen? Why did youlet it?

As Eden launched into a detailed recap of their escape from Devin’s apartment, Albie went to his brother’s side, took a firm hold of his biceps, and towed him back toward the front of the shop.

“I could break your wrist three different ways, you know,” Fox protested, but let himself be dragged.

“Yeah, you’re so fucking tough.” When they were enclosed between the two heavy curtains that separated the front from the back of the shop, only a thin crack letting in light enough to see, Albie let go of his brother and said, “How in the fuck do we get out of this?”

Fox, master of hair-brained, impossible schemes and grifts, shrugged and said, “I dunno.”

“Fuck you, Charlie.”

“No, I mean it.” Fox shifted, and the stripe of light fell across his face, highlighting eyes gone unusually wide. “I don’t know what to do. Honestly? I think we should just hand the old man over. Put a sign around his neck, shove him out the door, and pretend none of this ever happened.”

“You’re…” Albie stared at him, squinting against the dimness, and for the first time in his life saw that his brother was… “Serious.”

“Completely.”

“But – we can’t do that.”

“Why not? Name one thing he’s ever done for us…aside from donating his sperm.”

“I…”

“He’s never cared what happens to us,” Fox went on, turning away. “I’m not going to suddenly start caring about what happens to him.”

“Fox.” Albie grabbed his jacket sleeve, holding him back when he moved to open the curtain. “It’s not just about him anymore. What about Eden?”

“What about her?” Fox asked, voice oddly placid, and slipped back into the workroom.

Six

It hadn’t really clicked into place until he told Albie, but once the words left his mouth, Fox realized exactly what needed to happen. From the moment the first bullet shattered the window glass back at Devin’s apartment, he’d been asking himself how to fix this, and so far, he’d come up with nothing. But that was exactly what he needed to do:nothing.

“Okay,” he said, walking back into the workshop, clapping his hands together once to draw everyone’s attention. “Eden, Vivian…girl whose name I don’t remember.”

The girl in question rolled her eyes.

“If you would all please return to your home base, wherever that is, I’ll take care of Dad.” By which he meant he would lock the old man outside, walk down the block to the clubhouse, and get blind drunk.

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