Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
“The milkshakes are legendary—I highly recommend Oreo. And the burgers are creative and delicious. Ohh, they also have seasonal truffle fries—” I cut off with a sigh. “I’m going to get fat. I want the entire menu.”
“You won’t get fat, and even if you did put on weight, you’d still be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” Dorian murmurs offhandedly.
He’s gazing at his menu, so his words aren’t planned or carefully structured.
He genuinely means what he says, and it makes my cheeks heat.
“Get the entire menu if you want—then we can take the leftovers to feed Connor and Seamus.” He shuts his menu, looking up at me. “Order for me. I trust your judgement.”
A young, blonde waitress walks up to our table, deliberately fussing with her dress, pushing out her breasts and trying to catch Dorian’s eye. He gives her a single, uninterested glance before returning his attention to me.
The blonde clears her throat. “What can I get y’all today?”
“Two Pixie Special Burgers, two Oreo milkshakes, and the truffle fries to share, please,” I say.
The waitress glances at Dorian. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Nope.” He pops the p, not bothering to look at her. “I trust my woman.”
Her brows furrow with dejection, but she scribbles our orders on a notepad and walks away. “Hopefully I’ll prove worthy of that trust,” I say, my words half-teasing.
“You already have,” Dorian replies seriously.
“Sergei’s requested to meet you tonight, before the big meeting tomorrow.
He wants to get a read on you. Don’t be nervous, but do be clever.
He won’t hurt you, he doesn’t go after women or children, but it’s important he doesn’t see you as a threat to our legion. ”
I tilt my head to the side. “I still don’t understand why Sergei works with you three, sponsors you, whatever. Surely there are more established people he wants to team up with—not just a few vigilante college students.”
Dorian shrugs. “He’s taking a slightly altruistic but mostly strategic approach.
The entire world sees him as a threat, so most people would be reluctant to join his operation.
Only the bad apples would want to be part of his empire.
My legionaries are young, ambitious, and extremely good at what we do.
By getting us to join him now, he’s guaranteeing that he’ll have a hand in our future plans, and we have a lot of future plans.
I’ve always been clear that I’m aiming to be above-board after school, but Connor and Seamus are looking to start a very substantial, very large operation that spans the entire East Coast. Sergei will have a direct link to them, and they’ll owe him their loyalty—as will I. It’s a smart move.”
“He must really believe in you.”
Dorian glances away. “Yeah. He’s one of the only people who ever has.”
I reach across the table, taking one of his hands in mine. “I believe in you.”
His eyes brighten as he locks gazes with me. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Definitely.”
He grins. “Good. Keep up with that attitude, and you will be thoroughly rewarded.” He interlinks our fingers. “Watching you shoot today was hot. I hope you know, I’m going to fuck your brains out at the hotel.”
I smile back at him. “Can’t wait.”
We stay at the diner for over two hours, killing time talking. Dorian loves the food, and orders an extra milkshake to go—I also get a burger and additional milkshake to bring to Asher.
Seamus is already at the range when we get back. “Thirty men,” he says without preamble when we walk into the lobby. He’s seated on the counter, legs dangling over a glass display case. With his laptop open on his lap, he looks at home and at ease, as if he does work from a gun range all the time.
“That’ll be about three for each of us,” Dorian says with a nod. “I call dibs on Clyde. He’s my kill.”
I don’t protest. I want Clyde dead, but I don’t necessarily want to be the one to kill him. I already have enough blood on my hands; I’d prefer to avoid racking up a higher body count.
“Sergei’s early,” Connor says, walking into the room. “He just messaged that he’s touched down. He’ll be here in an hour.”
I find Asher upstairs and deliver his burger and shake. He smiles at me gratefully, taking his food from the paper bag and setting it up on the coffee table. I idle awkwardly in the doorway to the sitting room, a thousand questions settled on the tip of my tongue.
He must sense my wish to talk, because he gestures to the chair opposite to him. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll let you have some of my fries.”
I pat my belly. “I already ate my fill and then some, but thank you.” I take the seat across from him. “And… thank you for all the times you took me to the diner. And for helping out. You didn’t have to—”
“I did,” Asher interrupts. “You’re my blood. I should’ve taken you from Clyde when your mother passed.”
“Why didn’t you?” I ask quietly. My life would’ve been drastically different if I’d lived with Asher instead of Clyde. I would have a lot less trauma, but I’d also have less life experience and slower instincts.
“Because he threatened to kill you, and I couldn’t find a foolproof way to keep you safe,” Asher replies. “I’d already let you down in so many ways, I couldn’t live with myself if you died.”
“What about earlier?” I ask. “Surely you weren’t hooked on drugs my entire childhood.” I wince at the words as they leave my lips. I don’t mean to shame Asher for his old habit—I can’t imagine what he had to go through after his honorable discharge.
“I wasn’t a good person for several years. There’s a reason your mom broke up with me,” Asher says. “I got clean after a few years, but even then, I was directionless. Lost. Unfit to be a father. By the time I got my shit together, it was too late.”
“I don’t mean to condemn you,” I murmur.
“I know. Even if you did, I wouldn’t blame you. I didn’t take responsibility for you when I should’ve; I failed you in more ways than I could count.”
“I should’ve realized when I started coming around here,” I say, gazing around the living room. “You were always unusually kind to me.”
“I did the bare minimum.”
“You did a lot more than that,” I disagree, shaking my head.
“You had my back when no one else did. I never heard about a hospital bill for my leg. I never went hungry when I was here. You taught me skills that saved my life more than once, then sent me off to find a better life. You did everything you could, and for that, I’ll be forever grateful. ”
Asher blinks a few times, a sheen overcoming his grey eyes. Eyes that I inherited.
“I’d like to get to know you more, but I understand if you want to keep your distance,” I offer.
He smiles. “I’d like that too, sweetheart. Now, tell me about that school of yours while I gorge myself on carbs.”