Page 3 of Prodigal Son

“Doingwhat?”

“No idea. It was like he was looking for something. Going through offices and filing drawers.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Albie exhaled; he was smoking, by the sound of it. “You know he won’t talk to any of us but you.”

“Bullshit,” Fox said, anger bubbling up in his chest. “You, and Phil, and Tommy, and Miles are all over there in his goddamn neighborhood. And it’s up to me to get on a plane and come handle it?”

“You want our little brothers to do it?” Albie shot back, sounding just as angry.

“This is Phillip’s problem. He’s the oldest, he wants to be the boss. Let him handle Dad.”

“Yeah, well, Eden Adkins didn’t come by the shop looking for Phillip now, did she?”

“Eden?”

“Where do you think I got the security footage?”

“Fuck,” he swore, softly, his anger collapsing into a darker, imprecise emotion that made him feel sick to his stomach.

The thing was, Fox was not by nature a nervous person. He didn’t have any hang-ups, no social anxiety. Sure, there were people he didn’t like, but he never felt compelled to avoid anyone. Generally, a flat look and a shrug was enough to infuriate the disliked party and put them on the offensive. If anything, others avoidedhim.

But there were two people on the planet who upset his equilibrium. Two he didn’t ever care if he saw again because he hated the way they stirred nervousness into an acute physical sensation in his belly. One of them was his father.

And one of them was Eden.

Right now, he would have cheerfully paid one of his Tennessee brothers to fly to London and handle things for him.

But Albie didn’t call for help idly. Neither did Eden. And Dad…well, Dad was going to be a problem ‘til he finally went tits-up.

“Ugh,” he said, hearing the start of a whine in his voice. “You’re such a bastard, Albert.”

“So are you,” Albie said, without heat. It was a statement of fact: they were all bastards.

Fox closed his eyes. For a moment – a long one – he entertained the idea of hanging up on his brother and pretending this conversation had never happened. He could spend a few more days here, maybe a week, enjoy Ghost’s hospitality. Maybe see if he could dig into Reese a little, see if there was a human inside worth salvaging. Then he could go back home to Texas, to his orthopedic mattress and his favorite honky-tonk waitresses, and his favorite niece’s dry sense of humor. Where it was warm, and dry, and so blessedly American that it never made him think of his other home, and the fucked-up legacy Devin Green had scattered across London.

But there was a reason the club called on him when they were backed into a corner. He always came, and he always performed the impossible. It was kind of his thing.

He said, “I’ll be there tomorrow,” and resolved to drink enough tonight so he didn’t have to think about it.

Two

The Black & Tan was a coffee and sandwich shop within easy walking distance of Baskerville Hall. It was where Fox agreed to meet Eden when he landed at Heathrow and finally texted her back. It had been months since that first text, and he couldn’t make himself feel guilty about ignoring her.

Her reply was instant.7?

OK.

And so, it was seven, and a fine, misty rain was falling, and Fox pushed through the door of the shop to find her sitting in a corner table away from the window. She had an iPad on the table in front of her, scrolling one elegant, black-nailed finger across the screen; she hadn’t noticed him yet. Or at least didn’t appear to. In any event, she wasn’t looking at him, so Fox took a moment to look at her.

She had always been too classy for him. This evening, she wore a high-necked cream dress that hugged her figure and a tailored black jacket. Black pumps. Understated elegance, her hair in artful dark waves to her shoulders. She looked like a businesswoman meeting someone for coffee after work – which wasn’t a lie, per se. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

Eden, like him, lived in the realm of half-truths.

An elbow jabbed him in the ribs. “Out of the way, fucking idiot,” a customer muttered, shoving past him to get to the counter.

Fox shot him a flat look and moved out of the way.

---