Page 30 of Prodigal Son

“Get out of my way, old man,” he heard Eden say, “or I’ll kick you right in the balls.”

Devin held up both hands, placating, his smile caught between soothing and leering – Fox really didn’t think he was capable of outright sincerity. “Now, sweetheart–” he started.

Two things happened at once:

Eden took a swipe at him.

And Axelle grabbed her arm and barely managed to hold her back.

Fox could see that Eden, ex-agent, trained in hand-to-hand, hadn’t just aimed for a slap either; her fist was closed, headed straight for his old man’s eye.

“Holy shit,” Axelle said, not sounding so amused anymore. “Eden, you’ve gottacool it.”

Eden’s response, something furious and spluttered, was overshadowed by Albie’s arrival. He appeared in the doorway behind Devin – they were almost the same height, Fox noticed, Albie only a half-inch or so taller – and gave them all the most deadpan look imaginable.

“What now?” he asked with a sigh. “Are we hitting him? Have we devolved to that stage already?”

Eden pulled loose from Axelle and stalked away a few steps, toward the fridge. She smoothed her hand back along the crown of her head, which pulled a few wispy strands of hair loose from her bun.

Albie shouldered past Devin and into the room, hands landing on his hips, shoulders lax with a tired kind of frustration. His gaze skimmed over Devin, and Eden, and lingered, a moment too long –interesting, Fox thought – on Axelle, then came to Fox. His brows lifted.Explain.

Fox tried to keep his tone nonjudgmental. Really, he did. “Eden wants to run off and have a business meeting with the bloke who took over the case. Without a security escort.”

Albie’s brows managed to climb another notch. He turned to Eden. “You understand that’s incredibly dangerous, right?”

Eden put her back to the steel door of the fridge, arms folded. She’d wiped her face clean of all emotion. “Yes. But seeing as how I’m a trained professional, who’s armed, I think it’s a level of danger that I can handle.”

Albie snorted. “No offense, but if you could handle it, you wouldn’t have spent the night here. The whole club wouldn’t be involved.”

She pressed her lips together until they turned white.

“You – both of you,” he said, turning to include Fox with a stern look, “are going to have to put your personal feelings aside and get along until the dust has settled. I know there’s bad blood here, and you don’t like each other, but, well, too bad. Even if you hate each other, you don’t want to see each other get killed. Suck it up, act like adults, and get on with it.”

“Fuck you,” Fox said, but quietly, without any heat. It was more reflex than anything.

Albie ignored him. “Eden, is this meeting necessary?”

“I might be able to learn something new, who knows. But mostly…” She winced. “I feel like I at least owe Cavendish a warning.”

Albie nodded. “Fair enough. What time do you meet? We should clue Phillip in and see if he wants to run it as an op.”

Surprise flickered across her face, like she hadn’t considered the possibility. “We’ve got some time.”

“Good. Fox will go with you.” He turned to Fox. “You’re sober, right?”

Fox slid two pieces of bread into the toaster and pushed down the lever, frowning. “Yeah, I’m fucking sober. Not sure I like you giving the orders, though.”

“Too bad.”

“You already said that once.”

“Get used to it.”

~*~

To no one’s surprise, Phillipdidwant to run it as an op.

After more coffee, four pieces of toast, and a shower and shave, Fox felt relatively human and found himself walking side-by-side down the pavement with Eden.

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