5. Landon
5
Landon
T hea had been gone for a week. Unsurprisingly, we were all slowly unraveling. Kyril was spending way too much time in the sub-basement gym, beating the shit out of Ronan and Conal. Cassian had gone into planning mode, and Milo hadn’t left his room since we’d found out about the baby.
It occurred to me I ought to check on him, seeing as how we were harem-mates now. But what was the point? She’d left us. The harem was no more. Thea had been the tether holding our little fucked-up family together. Losing her had sent us all into a tailspin.
Sure, she’d probably be fine. Or so Dario said. But I knew better. My little wifey needed us, even if she wasn’t ready to accept it.
I poured another finger of whiskey. Declan’s shit wasn’t half bad. Not as good as shit from our distillery - or rather my father’s, seeing as how I was no longer his son and heir - but pretty good, nonetheless.
“You’re going to need a new fucking liver soon,” Kyril advised from the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower.
“And?”
“NHS waiting lists are ridiculous, so you might die first.”
I grunted and drained the glass. Why wasn’t I drunk? I should be off my face by now. Maybe Declan’s shit wasn’t as good as I thought. Or I’d built up a tolerance. Yes, that was it. If I switched to a different spirit, or mixed my drinks like mama always warned me not to, then perhaps I’d pass out sooner.
“I’m off to the club to talk to some new people.”
Kyril was way too moody for my liking. As a deeply depressed person, I craved the company of shiny, happy people. He wasn’t either of those things.
Ronan and Conal were way more fun.
“You should probably sober up first.”
“Being sober is overrated.” I belched and scratched my balls. Should I change? Nah. My clothes were clean. Kind of . It wasn’t like I planned to get laid. “Besides, I’m depressed. Drinking is my coping mechanism.”
“You’re pathetic.”
“I’m not pathetic. I’m depressed, remember?”
“Getting drunk isn’t helping.”
I shrugged. “I drink and you kill people. We all have our ways of dealing with shit.” He’d offered to help Declan clean up one of his nightclubs, where a rival gang had been pushing low-quality drugs cut with dangerous additives. It was why Declan had let us stay in this apartment. That and the stupid amounts of money Cass was paying in ‘rent’.
“What if she never comes back?” I croaked when he said nothing else.
“She will be back,” he growled. “Once Milo has pinned down her location, I’m going after her.”
“Dario might find her first.” He’d flown to Italy shortly after Thea left. I didn’t much like the guy, but I had a lot of sympathy for his loss. Losing a parent in a car bomb attack would fuck even a normal person up. And Dario was not normal.
Maybe we could attend some family therapy sessions together. It felt like we all had daddy issues these days. I know I definitely did.
“Have you heard from him?” Kyril seemed to have forged a bromance with the Italian Stallion. Dudes who slay together stay together, or something. My brain was a bit foggy on the exact phrasing. Not much made sense five days into an almighty bender.
Kyril brewed some coffee and handed me a mug. He watched with narrowed eyes as I tipped some whiskey into it. Hair of the Dog .
“Yeah. He said the funeral was today and that Francesco would be there.”
“That sucks balls.” Funerals were always depressing, but when the guy who murdered the man you were burying was going to be there… well, it was more than a little fucked up.
“Yeah.” We sat in silence, both lost in thought. Mine were all about Thea, and from the sad vibes he threw off, so were his.
I edged closer in case he needed some additional comfort. Perhaps I was projecting at this point? A small whimper of pain escaped, but I managed to disguise it with a manly cough.
“Where’s Cass?” I asked eventually, leaning in.
“Not sure. He got a phone call and then left immediately after.”
“Where’s Verity?”
“With Eden, Aoife, and Saoirse. They went shopping.” Verity had been upset about Thea leaving, but Eden explained it was for work and she’d soon calmed down. The kid was amazingly adaptable. I admired her relentless positivity. Whatever happened, she just rolled with it and carried on smiling like a sweet little angel.
Everyone adored her, which was just as well. If anything happened to Thea, we would all become Verity’s surrogate fathers/brothers/guardians. Honestly, it didn’t bear thinking about. I’d only just got used to being a daddy to Thea’s baby.
“I hope I’m the baby daddy.” It had been on my mind ever since we found out. Of the four of us, it had to be me. Yes, we’d always used condoms, but condoms sometimes failed, right?
Or in the case of Nico Constanza were stabbed 50 billion times with pins by an overly attached girlfriend desperate to lock him down. I shuddered at the recollection of poor Nico’s sad fate.
“You’re not. It’s me.”
“How can you be certain?” Curiosity burned through my misery.
“Because we didn’t use a condom at the Christmas Gala.”
“What the fuck? You irresponsible dickhead!” The blase way he said it boiled my piss and I snatched my hand away, no longer willing to offer a comforting back rub. The bastard deserved to feel miserable.
He shrugged, apparently not giving a shit about playing Russian roulette with Thea’s fertility. Perhaps because he was Russian and liked playing roulette? Jesus. I needed to quit drinking. My head hurt, so I rubbed my temples.
“We got carried away.” He shrugged again.
“Doesn’t mean it’s your baby. My sperm are superior. I bet I’m the baby daddy.
“It’s most likely his,” Milo said with a sigh while looking at Kyril. He looked like shit with his gray complexion, deep circles under his eyes, and an uncharacteristically rumpled tee. “Anyway, that’s not important.”
“Yeah, it is,” I muttered. I wasn’t happy about the idea of raising that fucker’s love child. If it turned out to be as psychotic as him, we were all doomed. The world did not need any more Vlad Putins.
“No, it isn’t.” He half-smiled. “I’ve tracked down our girl.”