* * *
My chatterbox son cuts through the tension, telling Val about the video game he was playing as we drive.
She keeps the conversation going, laughing at how many times he beat me today. The kid enjoys that. Besides my ma, and Cash every so often, he doesn’t have a ton of adult interaction without counting his teachers at school.
I rarely feel guilty over it, and I’m too distracted to dwell on it now. But I’m happy as hell to see him making a connection with someone new.
Pulling my mind back to the task at hand, I pinch my jaw shut.
Ray Gerard must be balls deep in the Cornaro Outfit. There’d been panic in his voice; the guy was almost screeching, demanding to know where Val was immediately. Like he had a God-given right to know, and not as a concerned brother.
More like a selfish pig talking like he owned his little sister.
Asshole. That bastard must be so shady he can’t cast a shadow.
“Bryce, how about you pull out your Switch and play a couple rounds? Use your headphones, please,” I say.
He goes quiet and gives me a knowing smile. The boy rarely puts up a fight when he senses I need a little privacy.
“Will do. Thanks, Dad. It’s in the middle console,” he says.
I reach over to open the compartment.
“I’ll get it for him,” Val says, lifting the lid. She pulls out the game as well as the earbuds and passes them back to Bryce.
“Thanks. Dad keeps this in the truck for when the drive gets boring,” Bryce says.
“Like now. Nothing but overgrown hills and touristy traffic this time of day,” I say. “We’re going to Aiea.”
“Blah,” he says. “You hate city driving. Why are we going to Aiea again?”
“Looking for someone,” I answer. “Leave that to us.”
“Oh, wow! So you’re going into action?” he asks, then looks at Valerie. “Dad’s like half cop and half ninja when he goes into action. It’s so cool.”
“No, son, nothing too crazy. Should be so boring we’ll be done by the time you look up from your game,” I tell him, hoping like hell that’s true.
No good reason it should go down any differently.
He’s just an excitable kid. I shouldn’t stress. Guess I hate even reminding him this shit was once the beating heart of my life in the SEALs, and then with Damysus Security.
He’d been with me one time, when I’d had to apprehend a man several years ago.
It was a smaller job, this wealthy, deadbeat asshole who owed the state and his kids’ mama six figures in back child support. He owed so much they hired my crew to bring him down, only to find out the fuck was tooling around downtown Honolulu in his shiny new convertible, a platinum blonde babe at his side, and shades on both of them that cost at least fifteen hundred bucks.
Cash couldn’t believe I just ran into him on the street after taking Bryce out for Pho and wings at this awesome-ass Vietnamese place. Daddy Warbucks barely struggled as I slammed him against the hood of his car and made a licensed arrest right there, then waited for the cops to show.
But Bryce saw everything. I think he spent the next week yammering my ear off. He still talks about it to this day.
Another reason I left the security game. It wasn’t the type of business where I could do ‘take your kid to work day.’
After the arrest, I swore I’d never suck him into this crap again. It’s too dangerous.
Yet, here I am, going on a goddamn stakeout with him in the back seat and Valerie in the front.
Have I lost my mind?
No, Cash talked me into this. Goaded me into it by telling me how bored I’d been lately. Lost my mind the second he showed up on my doorstep holding a pretty dove with a broken wing.
Fuck. So much for boredom now. It vanished the very second we carried Valerie into my bed.
“Is this like…a stealth job, Dad?” Bryce asks.
“Close enough,” I answer. “Now turn on your game, boy.”
“Okay, okay!”
I resist the urge to shake my head. I do trust him to keep quiet, even though I’m ninety percent sure he’ll only have one bud hanging loose.
But none of us are going into this alone.
There’s no real danger.
I’d sent a couple texts to my people on the crack team I’d pulled together. They’ll have our backs before there’s even a whiff of trouble. Any Cornaro boys who show up with Ray will flee like the pissant coward roaches they are at the prospect of being seen in broad daylight.
“Hey, Flint?” Valerie says quietly. “I’m still sorry, you know. For dragging you into this, let alone Bryce.” She sighs. “I’m even sorrier that I still don’t know what this even is.”
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got it. We’ll sort it out, and Bryce is a smart kid. He won’t be in any danger, and neither will you. Wouldn’t have brought anyone along for the ride if there was any risk.”