Chapter 7 #4
He nodded and dropped his stare to the floor.
“Yeah. The thought did cross my mind. He’s gotten a lot better, but he has a tell.
He switches to aloof even when aloof doesn’t belong.
” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m gonna talk to River when he gets here, and I wanna check out Shay’s online activity.
Talk to August too. Whoever the pranksters are teaming up with, they’re decent at tech.
It’s no coincidence they made sure a lot of people were present for those messages. ”
“Isn’t that a service you can buy online?” I wondered.
“Yeah, but they still built their own little website and knew who to send the message to and when. Think about it. We got no reactions from the patio when the first text went out. Only a few of us on the front of the house received that.”
I took a swig of my beer. He had a point. We would’ve arrived to a flurry of speculation if anyone back there had gotten the same text.
“You’re close with KC, right?”
I inclined my head. “Sure.”
He nodded too. “I want you and him to take on Shay and Nora. Kingsley, River, and I will handle Tate, Macklin, and possibly Lane.”
“You suspect him?” Colt asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Reese ran a hand through his hair.
“Maybe it’s more possible guilt by association.
He’s tight with both Nora and Shay.” He paused.
“Jack’s not a bad guess either. We have to consider the possibility of players switching sides for the fun of it.
We’re opportunists and reaction whores, the whole lot of us. ”
I’d drink to that. But Christ. Pointing out possible suspects on our side was a whole other can of worms.
I took another swig, thinking about it.
Who could—
No.
Who would…
The three of us sat there in silence, probably thinking the same thing.
Which one—or several—of us, in our friendly, sadistic group of buddies, would fuck over the rest for a laugh?
Colt made a face. “You reckon Kingsley could…? I’m just thinkin’—their whole dynamic.
Kingsley, Tate, Jack, and Franklin, getting drunk during a couples’ dinner, Tate probably has an idea, a few more glasses of wine, and then Jack thinks it’s funny as hell, and once Franklin’s on board, Kingsley folds. ”
Reese hesitated at first, but he couldn’t deny it either. It could happen. The problem was, that could be all of us. Pulling a prank on everyone like that? It wouldn’t be the craziest thing that’d happened out here. Hell, I could picture the Tenleys doing it any day of the week.
“Maybe we should start by ruling out people,” I suggested. “For instance, Lucian—never in a million years.”
“Agreed,” Reese said. “Lucian and Cam. And I sincerely doubt this is somethin’ KC and Noa would cook up on their own.”
“I reckon we can rule out Greer and his family too,” Colt added. “It just wouldn’t be their thing. Besides, when they’re home, they’re surrounded by two hundred young’uns.”
Kids did tend to get in the way of things. I could confirm.
I checked my watch. As fun as this was—and boy, fucking was it—Nate and I needed to step on it. Even though we didn’t have a specific time we had to be home, we had a lot to do before we left.
All the founding members flitted by in my head, their grins, their smirks, memories I had from events, barbecues…
“I gotta get going, my friends,” I said reluctantly. “Set up a chat for us, and I’ll interrogate whoever youse want. But I don’t think we can interrogate one of our own. We’d have to find out who it might be some other way.”
Reese hummed. “What about Ty? You know him best, Carter.”
Colt scratched his forehead. “Does it fit the devil he has on his shoulder? Absolutely. But he wouldn’t go after everyone like that. He’d target me or…you know, a select few. He and Lane stick to the background.”
I chugged half my beer before I set it on the counter.
I’d leave them with my final thoughts.
“On the off chance we have a Sadist teaming up with a few masos…” I stifled a belch in my fist. “Ask yourselves who we’ve thrown into the pool. Whose head we’ve patted. Who we’ve teased. Who we treat like a baby sister.”
Reese blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his mouth.
“She fuckin’ wouldn’t,” Colt stated.
I smiled. “Wouldn’t she?”
Nathan Riley
It’d been a brilliant idea of Ash’s for us to get ready over at the new house.
My parents were with the kids, and they had big plans.
They were gonna help Lily and Micah pack, they were gonna go see a movie, Dad had offered to fix Micah’s bike, Hallie and Juliana were gonna bake cookies, and on it went.
After applying aftershave, I tightened the towel around my hips and left the bathroom.
“Dylan’s coming over, honey,” Ash said from the kitchen.
“Oh?” I joined him there.
“Yeah, I reckon he’s ready to ask for whatever it is that’s made him helpful lately.”
That should be interesting.
I walked over to the table, curious about what on earth he was doing. The table was full of miniature figurines. Upon closer inspection, they were tiny, plastic balloon dogs.
“New hobby?” I joked.
He was in the middle of dropping some into envelopes.
He smirked. “Remember when I was finding those tiny ducks all over the place?”
“Yeah.”
“It was Jordan,” he replied. “I never confronted him about it, because payback is more fun.”
I chuckled. “So you’re gonna bombard him with balloon dogs?”
“He did say he wanted a dog.”
I snorted.
“And if he suspects me, it’s going to be damn near impossible for him not to admit that he’s done the same thing to me,” he finished.
“The ones in envelopes will come from all over. Walker offered to send some from Boston when he’s there.
Colt said they could send a few from their layover in Houston when they’re off on their honeymoon.
We’ll bring several when we head to Kentucky. And so on.”
I shook my head. That was as funny as it was endearing.
The Daddy in him finally got to play, and I couldn’t be happier for him.
Especially after my lunch with Jordan yesterday.
That boy… Christ. He was wonderful. So caring and funny and genuine.
He was on a mission to find out everything about us so that he could start anticipating our needs, and if that didn’t melt any Dom’s heart, nothing would.
“Speaking of—” Ash dug out another envelope from underneath his payback project. “This was in the mailbox. It’s a new invitation to the Carter ceremony on the thirty-first. Because you got your own earlier, right?”
“I did.” Oh wow. I opened it and immediately saw our names and that the invite was extended to James and Jordan as well. “That’s sweet of them. We can go through their registry next week.”
“Sounds good.” He eyed me briefly. “You should probably get dressed before I jump you, baby.”
That sounded like something I didn’t want to prevent, but our son had impeccable timing.
He drove up the driveway just then on one of those ride-sharing scooters that Ash and I hated.
The concept was great; the execution was atrocious.
They were fucking everywhere, taking up sidewalks, getting dumped into ponds and the river, blocking entrances—a damn hazard.
“Dylan’s here.”
“Dun-dun-duuun,” Ash joked.
I smirked a little. “Kidding aside, we’ll hear him out. No snap decisions.”
“Of course.”
Dylan climbed up the porch and soon opened the front door.
“We’re in the kitchen, sweetheart,” I said.
“We’ll talk in the living room,” Ash decided.
Fair enough. I grabbed a soda for Dylan from the fridge and refilled our coffee mugs as Dylan showed his face in the doorway. He was nervous. And fidgety.
“Please tell me you didn’t get someone pregnant,” Ash blurted out.
Dylan thankfully looked shocked at the notion. “What the fuck—no!”
“Thank fuck.” Ash blew out a breath.
I exhaled too.
Not that I’d actually thought… While we’d had the big talk with him, I was fairly certain he was still a virgin. And I hoped it stayed that way a while longer. I’d prefer if he turned sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen first. Though, the latter might be a pipe dream. Kids grew up so fast today.
We gathered in the living room, with Dylan sitting down in one of the chairs and Ash and me taking the couch.
Dammit, now I was nervous too.
“We’re listenin’, son.” Ash brought his mug to his lips.
Dylan shifted in his seat and took off his cap. “Right, so, uh… I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Ever since we talked about doing a college tour.” He flicked me a glance.
So it was about his future?
“I don’t want to go to college,” he said.
I drew a breath and braced myself for the reasons. Not going to college wasn’t the end of the world; Ash had opted for trade school. But he’d had a future lined up.
“I was talking to Mr. Givens at the club, and, uh…he thinks I can make it,” Dylan went on. “Like, I wanna go pro. I know I’m a bit behind, but if I put everything into it—if I dedicate myself to this, I have a chance.”
I didn’t know what to say. This was Ash’s area of expertise. He was the one who played golf with Dylan. My immediate reaction wasn’t a bad one. I was relieved and happy to see our boy so passionate about something. But was it feasible? Golf was an incredibly expensive sport.
Ash squinted at nothing and scrubbed a hand over his jaw as he processed things.
“And listen,” Dylan continued. “It’s not that I don’t value your opinion, Dad.
But you’re obligated to say I can be whatever I want.
So yeah, when Mr. Givens came up to me and asked why I wasn’t joining the club championship at the very least, it was the first time I actually considered I might be good. ”
Ash gusted out a breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. “Of course you’re good, Dylan. But if you want Dad and me to even consider this, you need to keep talking. You need to tell us your plan, and you better have one. Out on the Tour, good won’t get you a seat at the table.”
“I know that.” He sat straighter, ready to plead his case, and he didn’t get defensive, which was a big plus. “I know the odds, I swear. Slim to none. And like I said, I’m behind.”
“I’m sorry for interrupting, but what’s your handicap now?” I asked.
“Five.”
I turned to Ash. “Isn’t that amazing?”
“As his old man? It’s fuckin’ exceptional,” he replied. “I’m damn proud of him. But he wouldn’t even qualify for the mini tours. He has a long way to go.”
Dylan swallowed and nodded with a dip of his chin.
“I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. I’ll need a professional instructor and an average of approximately three hundred rounds a year.
I need to drop my handicap, obviously—it should be at plus-one or plus-two.
But you also know that handicap isn’t everything, Dad. ”
Ash inclined his head, conceding. “I’m aware.
And you’re consistently lowering your score.
We wouldn’t be having the conversation if I didn’t see the potential.
I do—I see it. But I also see that you’re struggling to maintain Cs in school, and you’re still in high school.
I’ll tell you one thing right now. We’re not letting you tank your grades so that you can play golf. ”
Absolutely not. College was one thing. He could attend later. But he was graduating high school with decent grades. That was a must.
“I agree with Dad,” I said. “But I’d say there’s room to negotiate here.
If you maintain your grades and we keep seeing this nicer attitude you’ve had lately, we will support you—within reason.
We’re not emptying our bank account for an instructor next week.
You need to work for it. You have to show us you’re serious about this. ”
Ash nodded along.
“You’re also not allowed to burn yourself out,” I added. “You need your eight hours of sleep every night—so if you’re planning on hitting the range before school in the morning, you better go to bed early.”
To Dylan’s credit, he didn’t look defeated or annoyed. In fact, he had hope and determination written all over him.
“I’ll go to bed when Lily does if that’s what it takes,” he promised. “I’ll show you, I swear.”
“And if you do, Dad and I will increase our support,” Ash answered. “Whether it’s investing in your game or giving you fewer chores—or both. Up to you. Then, in six months or a year, we can discuss college. It’s too soon for us to know at this point.”
Dylan acted as if we’d just given him the keys to the castle, so I supposed that was a good sign. He was ready to work for his dream.
When the conversation was over, he even hugged us. Voluntarily. He had a cute grin on his face, and he planned on heading back to the old house just to grab his golf clubs. He wanted to go to the driving range for a couple hours.
We walked him to the door.
“Do you have money for tokens?” Ash asked.
“I mean…” The boy smirked.
Ash snorted and pulled out his phone. “I’ll send you twenty, and you better not blow it on girls and dope.”
I chuckled and shook my head.
“I’ll try,” Dylan laughed. “Thanks, Dads. Really.”
“You’re welcome.” I gave his shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
He headed off with a two-finger wave and put on his Titleist cap again.
We stayed there in the doorway for a moment.
As excited as I was for the evening’s festivities, I was so comfortable in the knowledge that Ash and I would always feel most at home right here, being parents, taking care of our family, and doing our own thing.
“He’s gonna need a couple of years to get to where he needs to be if he wants to go pro,” Ash said pensively. “You know what that means?”
“What?”
He smiled. “He’s not movin’ anywhere for college. He’ll be right here.”
I smiled back. Knowing him, he was already mentally fixing up the studio above the garage.
“We’ll make that another rule,” I said. “He’s not allowed to skip family vacations. We can find golf courses along the way if he needs to train, but he’s coming with us.”
“God, I fucking love you.”
I let out a laugh and kissed him. “I love you too.”