“What?” The word escapes before I can wrestle control of my mouth. The Man in Black rules—ruled—the largest slice of Carver City. He’s the only one strong enough to manage that much territory without incident, and he’s sure as hell the only one capable of holding both Gaeton and Beast’s leashes. He’s also Isabelle’s father.
Hook touches the small of my back. “Send him up in five minutes.”
I manage to keep my mouth shut until we’re in his room, and then I spin on him. “This is a mess. He’s a cornerstone of Carver City. Knock out that leg and the entire thing topples. If someone gets it in their head to test his untried eldest daughter—and they will—it could be a domino effect to send us all to war.” The only reason the power structure works in this city is because it’s perfectly balanced. The small internal squabbles and changing of leaders doesn’t make a difference in the overall city because it doesn’t affect the overall territory boundaries, so everyone has approximately the same amount of power. There hasn’t been a territory grab or a war in … I don’t even know. Decades, at least. Since the Man in Black fought and killed the leader of the territory to his eastern border, and brokered with Hades to create the neutral territory in the city center. If someone decides to get greedy now, none of us are safe.
For the first time in a very long time, Hook looks tired. Well and truly exhausted. He scrubs his hands over his face. “We should send Gaeton on his way. We have enough to worry about without getting pulled into whatever the hell is going on in that territory with the old man’s death.” The words seem to bring him no pleasure. He speaks them because it’s the smart thing to do.
Neither of us has been all that good at doing the smart thing.
I cover Hook’s hands with mine and lace my fingers through his. “He’s your friend. He’s my friend, too.” Admitting that someone is my friend gets easier every time I do it. Gaeton may not be on the same level as the ladies in the Underworld, but he is a friend.
“Yes.” The word comes out as a sigh.
I squeeze his hands. “The Man in Black was like a father to him. He’ll be grieving.”
“You’re grieving right now.”
He’s not wrong but focusing on Gaeton’s pain is so much easier than dealing with the fight barreling down on us. I manage a small smile. “Then it sounds like comfort is the name of the game tonight.”
Hook frowns, but there’s no time to question me further, because the door opens and Gaeton walks in. He barely looks around, just walks straight to the kitchen and finds the liquor cabinet. He’s been here before, that Hook trusts him enough to let him into this inner sanctum of sorts. It confirms I’m right about what we need to do.
Gaeton considers the bottle and apparently decides that he’s not quite gone enough to drink without a glass. He pulls out three and sets them on the marble counter with a clink. “You heard.”
“We heard.” The exhaustion is gone from Hook’s face. He doesn’t quite have his charming rogue mask in place, but he’s pulled back. I didn’t realize how much he allows me to see until I watch him tuck away bits of himself.
He pauses to give my hand a squeeze that could mean absolutely anything and then tows me to the kitchen. Gaeton pours steep shots into each glass and sets the bottle down hard enough that I fear it might shatter. “We knew he was sick, but we’d half convinced ourselves that the old bastard would outlive both of us.”
No need to read between those lines. Gaeton and Beast. Beast and Gaeton. A hostile and yet strangely symbiotic relationship if ever there was one. I can’t pretend to know Beast’s mind, but the best I can tell, Man in Black looked at both of them as the sons he never had.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what to do with my hands. I might have crossed into being a person that accepts hugs as comfort, but I don’t know how to offer them. I’m not even sure Gaeton will accept that from me. Or if it would actually help.
Hook doesn’t have my confusion. He simply takes the shot with Gaeton and pulls the big man into a hug. “I’m sorry, too.”
I stare at them, at this man who cares so fucking much about the people he considers his. It might not always be the right thing, but the way Gaeton holds him, It’s the right thing right now. My heart lodges in my throat and, yes, no matter how strange it feels to admit it … This is love, isn’t it?