Page 20 of The Last Inch Of Ice
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t be flippant with me.”
Kai sits up, running a hand through his still-damp hair. “Would you prefer sincere? Because I can do sincere. Let me try: Father, I’m so glad you called from yet another mystery number to tell me what a disappointment I am. It really makes my evening complete.”
There’s a long pause. He can hear his father breathing on the other end, that controlled, measured breathing that means he’s counting to ten.
“I watched the game tonight,” Doyle finally says.
“And?”
“And you need to get your situation under control.”
“My situation?” Kai laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
“Whatever issues you have, fix them. The media is starting to talk.”
“The media is always talking,” Kai says. “That’s kind of the point of being me, isn’t it? I’m excellent content.”
“This isn’t a joke, Kaisyn.”
“I’m not joking.” The lightness drops from his voice entirely. “I’m doing my job. We’re winning games. We’re three and oh in the last week. What more do you want?”
“I want you to stop making a spectacle of yourself.”
Something cold settles in Kai’s chest. “Then you really should’ve picked a different son to exist.”
The silence that follows is heavy, oppressive. When his father speaks again, his voice has gone very quiet.
“I didn’t call to talk with you.”
“Then why did you call?” Kai asks. “To remind me I’m an embarrassment? To tell me I’m ruining the family name? I’ve got those on a loop in my head already, thanks. Very efficient.”
“I called,” Doyle says slowly, “to remind you that actions have consequences. You’re on thin ice. Don’t give them a reason to trade you again.”
The line goes dead.
Kai stares at his phone. He tries to summon his usual armor—the irony, the sarcasm, the careless charm that makes everything slide off him like water. But talking to his father always strips that away, leaves him raw and exposed.
He sets the phone down carefully on the nightstand.
Bonifazio, who has been sleeping in a patch of moonlight near the window, suddenly springs onto the bed with all the grace of a drunk gymnast. He lands directly on Kai’s stomach, driving the air from his lungs.
“Jesus—Christ—” Kai gasps.
Bonifazio sits down heavily on his chest and stares at him with those unsettling green eyes. Then he very deliberately extends one paw and places it directly over Kai’s mouth.
“Are you trying to suffocate me?” Kai asks against the paw.
Bonifazio’s expression suggests this is exactly what he’s trying to do.
“You weigh like fifteen pounds. This isn’t going to work. Oh, that’s actually worse.” Kai gently moves the cat’s paws away from his face. “What do you want? Food? Attention? My death?”
Bonifazio headbutts him in the chin.
“Ow. Was that affection or assault? With you, it’s always hard to tell.”
