Chapter 38
Matt
When I get home after school, I have a message waiting for me from Deejay’s tailor, so I head up to my room to listen to it before going to find Deejay and the littles. The tailor needs me to call him to confirm a few details, so I take care of that, then change my clothes and head downstairs in search of my family.
Surprisingly, I find Deejay alone in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of iced tea, and looking at me like he’s been waiting for me.
“What’s up?”
I’m concerned to see that his aura has a mix of dandelion and cobalt in it. Something is hurting him and stressing him out, and I don’t like seeing that on him.
“I want to discuss filing a grievance against Loretta for what she did,”
he begins without preamble. “You don’t want me to curse her, but I think it’s foolish to let her get away with what she did. I think we need to make sure she understands there are consequences to her actions, and we won’t just let her get away with her shit because we’re a protectorate of the Hub.”
“You want to file a civil suit against her?”
I question for clarification as I sit across from him. Nothing he’s said explains his aura, but if he’s not ready to talk about why he’s hurting, we can wait on that.
“I do, but Fraser informed me that I personally don’t have any grievance with her and that what she did is not an offense against the demesne. You have to file the suit. He told me that if you call and make an appointment, he can fit you in sometime next week.”
The grief in his aura expands as he speaks, and now I get it: he’s hurting because of something Fraser did or said.
“I see. I can do that. I agree that Loretta should face the consequences of her actions. How did the conversation with Fraser go? Based on your tone, I suspect it didn’t go as well as you’re used to?”
“You got that from my tone or my aura?”
he huffs with a sad smile.
“Both,”
I admit, reaching across the table and taking his hand in mine. “What happened?”
“I’m not quite sure,”
he sighs. “He didn’t refuse to file the suit, but he refused to do it for me. When I asked if he would be refusing me if I was calling on behalf of one of his younger brothers, what he said...I don’t really know how to interpret it.”
“What did he say?”
“He said they’re his brothers, and he wouldn’t have to wait on me to file the grievances for them. What did he mean by that?”
I shake my head, heart clenching at the sadness in his aura and tone. “I don’t know the man, so I can’t say. I’m going to take a page out of your book and tell you that this is something you need to communicate with him about. If his problem is more than just disliking me, that’s something that needs to be addressed.”
Deejay takes a Robbie breath and nods. “Yes. I know that is true. The problem is finding the time to go make that happen.”
“Put it on the schedule and I will make sure I am here with the kids so that you can go talk to him. Doesn’t matter the day or time. I will be here so you can go. I can call and make an appointment with him after you’ve cleared the air and repaired that relationship. I’m not planning on going to the Hub any time soon, so that can wait until you’ve talked to Fraser.”
Loretta is the least of our problems at this point. I’m much more concerned about the Erroll and Tio problem, but Deejay needs to take care of this, and Loki is taking care of the Prince of Morgaine and his Chaos Eater, so we don’t have to split our attention just yet.
Deejay flashes me an affectionate smile causing the stress in his aura to melt away, giving way to the lovely magenta that I have finally figured out—desire borne from genuine fondness and affection. As long as I’ve known him, Deejay has liked me and wanted this evolution of our relationship, and I have to admit, that revelation left me with a pretty heady feeling. Deejay’s desire for me makes me feel wanted like I’ve never been before, and I treasure that feeling.
“Thank you. I will do that,”
he affirms, rubbing circles with his thumb into the space between my thumb and my forefinger.
I stand, pulling him to his feet, and kiss him soundly. He tastes like coming home, and I love it. When I pull back, I smile down at him. “Good afternoon, Deejay. I’m back.”
Deejay smiles back up. “Welcome home,”
he chuffs before kissing me again.
This is a much better way to start the evening hours.