The Lyon's Cub Caitlin (Lyon The Next Generation 1)

Law was looking at him like he was still trying to figure that shit out and Creed and I weren’t giving anything away. “You call your uncle since you’ve been here?” He turned to Mancini.

“Of course and I’m sure mom’s been on the phone with him since the two of them think I’m still five.”

“You should move here, take some of the heat off me.”

“Nope, I’ve already got mom trained to where we can live in the same city in peace I’m not about to deal with uncle Mallory too. Though I am thinking of buying a place here.”

First I was hearing of it, he’s probably after Mengele and her little friends with his shit. The talk turned to real estate and I realized not for the first time how we were becoming more and more like the women with their sporadic shit. It’s the reason I won’t sit in a room with Kat and her posse. Listening to their shit is like a mouse in a maze, the shit’s all over the place.

Now their husbands are doing the same shit, jumping from one topic to the next without a break in between. The funny thing is that we can all keep up with each other. They’ve got us trained so well that each man standing out there, except for the ones whose wives hadn’t given birth yet, had a kid strapped onto him. And those who didn’t, kept making runs inside to check on their pregnant wives. So much for being hard-asses.

I heard a familiar voice greeting the pothead and the others over the noise of the older kids who were running around and my hackles started to rise. Almost twenty years and he still gets under my skin.

“The fuck is he doing here?” I watched as old man Grimaldi came waltzing over with that smarmy ass grin on his face. Fucker’s probably here to start some shit.

“Hey boy, nice spread, where’s my girl?” Cayla and Cayleigh started going ape shit, bouncing up and down on my back and chest like maniacs at the sight of him. He kissed their heads and nodded to the guys before turning back to me.

“Kat’s inside, she call you?”

Last I knew he was in Europe somewhere annoying that side of the population with his shit.

“What do you think?” That’s all he said before he walked away. Funny, he asked for Kat but headed over to the grill with the pothead and his crew. I don’t even wanna know what those old men are up to. I don’t understand how the fuck I keep collecting people.

Before my wife and kids it was just myself and my crew, now it seems like every year Kat’s ass be picking up strays to add to her collection. Asshole Grimaldi never went away, the two of them have been thick as thieves since the first time she told him off on the phone when she worked for me.

Now my kids thinks he’s their grandfather too, even though they don’t get to see him as often as the others. But he more than makes up for that by spoiling them rotten whenever he’s stateside. Shit, I gotta keep an eye on him and Mengele. He’s another one that likes to encourage her in her shit. Though Caitiebear is his favorite.

I ignored the fact that he was here and pretended I didn’t notice him and the pothead sneaking off to get high. At least they had the decency not to do that shit out in the open with all these teens running around my backyard. My kids had invited half the damn high school, or their mother had.

I have no idea why these people like gravitating to my house. They’re not allowed to do half the shit here that they can get away with elsewhere. Still every time we have one of these things since Caitie and the twins became teens, half the teenagers in the damns state show up.

I ignored them and went back to talking about the shit that was on all our minds. We were making progress because Mancini stayed on his little handheld device and coming up with shit.

We were knee deep in talks when my boy Aiden came storming out of the house on a tear. “Dad!” Ah damn, what now? He looked like a tornado. Mengele probably got into his shit again.

“What’s up kid?” He looked around at the others before coming over to my side to whisper in my ear.

“Do you know what mom’s watching?”

“Huh?” Just then there was a wild whooping sound coming from the den where the women were congregated. From the look on my son’s face I’m guessing his overprotective ass wasn’t pleased with whatever it is she and her girls were getting up to in there.

“It’s fine son.” I don’t encourage them to squeal on their mother, but this isn’t the first time he or his twin has come to me with something. They’re at that age where every fuck embarrasses them. Their little horny ass friends, some of whom were here tonight, like to check my wife out, which makes my boys manic.