Chapter 14 #2
Dad always geeks out on hearing about Knightsblood stuff.
He and most of his siblings went elsewhere for college—Dad, my mom and Aunt Callie to NYU, albeit at different times, my uncle Hades to Harvard, and Uncle Kratos to Lords College in the UK.
In fact, the only Drakos before our generation who attended Knightsblood was our uncle Deimos, who ended up as the fucking president of The Reckless.
I fill my parents in on Para Bellum stuff, and football, and classes, never feeling like I’m wearing a mask.
Don’t get me wrong: I am wearing one. But I suppose it just never feels like I am with Dad, Mom, and Iris because I’ve been doing it my whole life, and I don’t mind doing it.
Dad finally clears his throat and gives me “the look”.
I know this look so well that I know what he’s going to say before he does.
“So…” Dad cocks a brow. “You want to tell me about this cabin of yours?”
Mom gets a sudden, faraway look in her eyes. “What cabin?” she says quickly.
I know what that look is, too.
Again, there is a fair amount of crazy on both sides of my family. Some of it is dangerous, some is not. Cillian, for example, is a literal diagnosed psychopath, but he’s also protective to a fault when it comes to family.
On the other end of the spectrum, you’ve got pieces of shit like my grandfather Aeneas, Dad’s father, who, mercifully, I never met. Same with my uncle Atlas, who incidentally killed Aeneas.
Hey, I did say “a fair amount of crazy”.
But there’s a whole other level of monster in the darker reaches of our family tree: the infamous killer Seamus O’Conor, who was part of my parents' story.
They both have the physical scars and horror-show memories of another cabin to prove it.
So that’s what was going on with Mom when Dad gave me “that look" and mentioned a cabin that she’s never heard of. She was remembering the nightmares she and Dad lived through.
“Just a place that our son bought to drink with his buddies,” Dad chuckles, instantly erasing that look in Mom’s eyes when he grabs her around the waist and aggressively kisses her neck.
Puke.
“How come I never heard about this?” Mom laughs. “Is it nice?”
“It’s a piece of shit,” I grin. “But I’m fixing it up.”
Dad gives me a quick look, then turns back to my mother. “Hey, baby, why don’t you go jump in the shower and…” He clears his throat, glancing at me sheepishly. “Uh, you know, have a totally normal shower, alone, and then…uh, definitely get fully dressed, not on all fours on our bed.”
“For fuck's sake,” I groan. Mom cracks up and playfully slaps my dad’s chest.
“Okay, I am going to go shower,” Mom sighs. She slaps Dad’s chest again. “Alone.”
“Where’s the fun in that,” he mutters darkly as she takes the phone for a sec.
“Achilles, I love you! Call again soon, please!”
I grin. “Love you too, Mom. I will. Oh, and tell Iris to return my texts from time to time, or I’ll make sure she’s a pariah by the time she sets foot on campus.”
Mom laughs. “Only if next time you call, you tell me something more concrete about this girl.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll see what I can invent.”
When she’s gone and my dad has the phone again, his smile fades.
“Thanks for covering for me,” I mutter.
“No problem,” he grunts. “But…this cabin…”
“Who squealed?”
He chuckles. “No one. Ezio Adamos has trackers in all his cars, which Leo clearly forgot when he was up in Hawthorne Hollow doing something for you.”
“Huh,” I say.
“Yeah, huh,” Dad growls. His brow furrows. “It was the funniest thing. First, Ezio’s SUVs were up at this off-grid cabin which is apparently owned by a shipping business that does no shipping, under your name.”
“Really…” I grin.
Dad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, other funny thing: these SUVs left this cabin and then went to a scrapyard in the Bronx that, would you believe, I own.”
I clear my throat. “Wow, Dad, didn’t know you were in the scrap—”
“Achilles.”
I lose the smile.
“Let’s not pretend we both don’t know that scrapyard is where our family and Ezio’s disposes of…problems.”
This isn’t the big emotional moment where my dad realizes that his son followed in his footsteps and has blood on his hands.
We crossed that bridge years ago.
It’s not like Dad or I are out there running around mass murdering motherfuckers for fun, but… It’s the mafia.
Sometimes people die. And they often need to be hidden when they do.
Hence: the scrapyard.
“I’m going to ask you a straightforward question, Achilles,” Dad murmurs. “And I need a straightforward answer. Who’d Leonidas get rid of for you?”
Dad’s always been a straight shooter with me, so I’ve always been the same with him. Which is why I am categorically about to tell him that it was those two guys working for Angelo Santoro.
…Until he keeps talking.
“Look, I just…” He sighs. “I don’t want you starting any shit about this thing with Ya-ya’s house.”
Fuck. “Dad, Santoro—”
“Is a prick, I know,” he growls. “And believe me, if you’re fucking angry, you can imagine how angry I am.” He makes a face. “And how hard I’m working to keep your uncles and my damn sister from going off the rails about this.”
My jaw tenses. “Why shouldn’t they? It’s an act of war—”
“Because Angelo’s ego is making him write checks on his own, and that’s muddying the waters of his business relationship with Nero De Luca. If that business relationship were to fall apart…”
I nod. “Don’t interrupt your enemy when he’s busy making a mistake.”
“Bingo.” Dad sighs. “Look, I get the anger, believe me. But I’m in the middle of some productive talks with Nero.
He’s…well, he’s Nero,” Dad grimaces. “The man has a goddamn screw or five loose, or missing completely. But he knows that this is causing more friction than he signed up for, and he’s working to talk Angelo down from the ledge.
He’s got a lot of money tied up in that building acquisition, so these things need to be handled delicately. No reprisals.”
I sigh. “Why would you assume that I’d be looking for reprisal?”
“Because you’re my son,” he says dryly.
I grin briefly, then my brow furrows. “So… What’s the play?”
“There is no play, son. Not for you. I say this with love but leave it the fuck alone. Same goes for your cousins, and yes, I’ll be talking to their parents too to make sure no one dumps kerosene on this thing.
” He exhales again and rubs the bridge of his nose.
“So… Who the fuck were these guys you and your cousin and Leonidas took care of? They weren’t involved with this shit, were they? ”
I shake my head. “Nah, Dad. Nothing like that.”
I swear, I was just about to tell him the complete truth. But not fucking now.
“Who were they, then?”
“Pfft, just a couple of goons we caught sneaking into a Para Bellum party and taking creep-shot photos of girls,” I shrug.
Dad nods. “Everyone okay?”
“Yeah. For a hot second we thought they might be working for Yuri Volkov, but it turns out they left his organization years ago.”
My dad exhales. “Good. Last thing we need right now is to tussle it out with the Russians.”
I grin. “Aunt Eilish can’t pull strings?”
My mom’s sister is married to Gavin Tsarenko, aka Kirill's dad and the head of the hugely powerful Tsarenko Bratva.
Dad shakes his head. “Strings strong enough to pull Yuri Volkov don’t exist. You’re sure these guys weren’t still working for him?”
I nod. “One hundred percent.”
He exhales. “Good. Well, I should let you go.”
“Got a shower to catch?” I smirk.
He grins at me. “You really wanna know?”
“Not in the fucking slightest.”
He chuckles, but then he frowns. “Oh, one last thing…”
“Shoot.”
“You ever see Nero's daughter Yelena on campus?”
My gaze lifts again, dragging over the grass and then honing in on the petite brunette with the big green eyes, the hidden spicy romance book, and the pussy that tastes better than anything I’ve ever eaten in my fucking life.
“Because if you do, just…” Dad shakes his head. “Walk away. I can work the sympathy angle with Nero, but his daughter is his world. The last thing I need is him hearing that my son gave her a dirty look or whatever.”
Or went down on her in the library sub-basement.
Or rubbed her pussy with the flat side of his knife.
Or chased her through the dark wearing a goddamn mask and then made her shatter all over his fingers.
“Noted,” I growl.
He nods. “Thanks, Achilles. Okay, I gotta jump in the show—”
“Ther-rah-pee!!!” I groan.
He grins. “Love ya, kid. Don’t ever forget it.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
After I hang up, my gaze goes right back to Yelena.
I do feel bad for lying to him—well, lying by omission. I never actually said “no, I don’t see her on campus.”
But on the plus side, that means I’m off the hook, and our paths can cross again very, very shortly.
See you soon, little prey.