Page 60 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 9-12
Jun laughed. He let go of Damian and went to his knees beside Ash. “Where did you find ddukbokki?”
Ash shrugged. “I don’t know. I just deliver. Ellisandre said they would murder me if I spilled anything.”
Interesting. Ellisandre rarely threatened murder over food unless they were using it for a purpose.
Ash lifted out the dishes with Jun’s help and put them on the coffee table in front of the couches. Beneath the food someone had packed supplies. There were hot packs, cold packs, a massage pad, Epsom salts, and dolls. Not just any dolls but dolls with African American skin tones and tightly curled hair.
“Care package.” Ash dusted off his hands, looking relieved and pleased. “Ms. Linda and Ellisandre say to call them whenever. I can’t repeat what Alice said.”
Collin chuckled ruefully.
“I think we can all imagine.” Damian shook his head. Sometimes Collin’s sister had a bit of bloodlust. She came by it honestly. Her brother shared none of it.
Jun tore the lid off one of the containers of ddukbokki, chopsticks already open and ready. Damian snagged the other one. They shared a look.
Jun burst out laughing. “We’re perfect for each other.”
Damian grunted in agreement, the first delicious, warm morsel already in his mouth, cutting off speech.
Ash leaned against the coffee table. He pushed food toward Collin. “I have to tell Alice you ate.”
“She doesn’t need to worry about me eating,” Collin said.
Ash narrowed his eyes. He stabbed a finger at the food.
Collin threw up his hands and shook his head. He picked up one of the containers and opened it.
Ash settled in. The little spy.
He was a welcome interloper, though. He ranted to Collin—and Richard by proxy—about a new exploit in cybersecurity and the various IT department heads in Richard’s various companies who were or were not cooperating in patching the issue. It seemed Ash was still learning how to command respect from Richard’s various department heads in different companies.
“I’ll just hack him tomorrow if he doesn’t listen.” Ash shrugged.
Richard’s lips were not containing his smile, although he was obviously trying. Ash was certainly slipping past employee and into family, as much as Richard might have fought it in the beginning. It had been inevitable as soon as Collin had adopted him.
Damian got halfway through his meal when Ash turned to him. He stuck his lip out and sidled closer. “Can you help, please?”
“With what?” Damian frowned. He didn’t have a help bone left in his body. The food was putting tingling sparks through his arms and legs, telling him just how hungry had been. All he wanted to do was sleep after this. Sleep and hold Jun.
“They’ll shoot me if I don’t tell them anything when I go back.” Ash slapped his hand over his mouth. “Shit. I mean, not shoot, but…you know…” He threw his hands up and then covered his face.
It was impossible not to smile.
Collin got off the couch and contained the young hacker.
Between Damian and Collin, Ash got the basics.
“Whatever did happen with Howser’s cell phone?” Jun asked, chopsticks paused in midair.
“It’s in evidence,” Damian said. “The detective took it when they took Howser.”
A dull ache hit Damian’s belly. Took Howser. He’d been so focused on Jun and Betti and Armada’s mini breakdown while Betti was at the hospital that he’d momentarily forgotten about the one person he couldn’t do anything for.
It had been him once. The one who had been taken away. The one cut out. What made him any different from Howser? There had been a time when he, also, had idolized Thaddeus. Didn’t all sons look up to their fathers, at least for a moment? There had been a time when he would have done anything the man said.
Or had there been? Would he have pointed a gun at another person at his father’s word at twelve? Fourteen? No, not by fourteen. He’d learned by then. But even after learning, even after losing his willingness to do whatever the man said, there had still been that aching need to be loved. Against all reason, you could still need affection from someone you hated, still crave their recognition. Just because you hated someone didn’t mean you’d given up being loved by them.
He’d given up so many years ago.
