"Why?" I asked Cain, needing to know what had made him stick his neck out for someone he clearly didn't give two shits about. But he turned his cold eyes back towards the windshield and then flipped off the interior lights, plunging his emotionless face into darkness.
"Merry Christmas, Dante," he murmured as he rolled up his window.
"Merry Christmas," I said quietly as I turned and went to my own car. I nearly laughed at the irony that it was only the third time today that someone had said those words to me, yet that was still three more times than I'd heard them in the past ten years.
I dropped into the driver's seat and reached for my phone. Disappointment flared when there were no text messages or missed calls, but I shoved the useless emotion away and then dialed the number I'd memorized long ago and that had become a lifeline of sorts.
"You know what to do," was all the recorded voice said just before the beep. It wasn't really a surprise that the guy hadn't answered … he never did. Just like he never called me back either.
"Hey, it's me," I muttered as I leaned back against the seat and fought the weariness that invaded my entire body. "Just wanted to see if you'd heard anything new."
I didn't bother to ask him to call me back before hanging up the phone. There was no point. I'd been waiting for his call for more than eight months and it hadn't come.
Because nothing had changed.
Because I wasn't getting that second chance, no matter how badly I wanted it.
Meu melhor...
I actually laughed out loud. The only thing I was "best" at was fucking up. I knew it … the people around me knew it …
My eyes drifted to Hawke and Tate's house and I thought about the little boy who'd made me forget for the briefest of moments who I was, and made me remember a time when I'd been someone's hero.
No way I could be that again, but I'd sure as hell make sure the little boy in that house got his damn Pop-pop back.
Even if the man in question did think I was no better than shit to be scraped off his shoe.
It was a sentiment that I was all too familiar with … and that I'd rightfully earned.
Chapter Two
Magnus
"Guess what, Pop-pop?" Matty said excitedly as the image on my iPad tilted momentarily. I realized Matty was trying to get more comfortable and had laid back against Tate's chest.
"What?" I asked dutifully, ignoring the heavy bass of the music coming from the living room. I was once again grateful to Ronan for arranging a hotel room in Austin that had bedrooms separate from the living area, though I suspected my adamant insistence on two separate hotel rooms had influenced the decision.
"Daddy said we get to stay up late to watch the fireworks tonight."
"I said you could stay up late if you stay awake that late," Tate clarified and the image shifted again so I could see Tate's face. "Hi Magnus," Tate said with a nod.
"Hey, Tate," I returned.
"How was your flight?"
"Good," I lied. "How's the pseudo-honeymoon?" I asked, but the view shifted again and all I saw was what I assumed was Tate's leg.
"I can stay awake that long," I heard Matty declare.
"I know you can, buddy," I heard Tate say and then the view changed once more and I smiled at the sight of Leo leaning against Hawke's side, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open as soft snores escaped his throat. "But not so sure about Leo," Tate said before shifting the tablet so I could see Hawke's face.
"Hey," Hawke said with a smile and a small wave. Considering he was on vacation at the biggest family theme park in the world with his husband of exactly one week and not one, but two, five-year-olds, the man looked more at peace than I'd ever seen him.
Before I could respond, Matty turned the tablet so it was back on him. "He's just resting his eyes, Pop-pop," he insisted right before he let out a big yawn and pressed back against Tate's chest. I knew it was barely nine o'clock in Florida so I highly doubted my grandson would be viewing any New Year's fireworks tonight once the clock hit midnight. I listened as Matty told me all about his and Leo's adventures that day, but within ten minutes, his eyes were starting to drift closed and the view on the screen shifted. It righted itself quickly and I suspected Tate had taken over holding the tablet. Sure enough, the screen moved so it was Tate's face I was seeing.
"Keep us posted on things, okay?" he said, his voice low.
"I will."
Hawke took the tablet and murmured, "Stay safe … and trust in Dante … kid's got great instincts."
The kid had a lot of things, but I wasn't sure instincts were one of them. I didn't say that, of course, choosing to nod instead. "You guys have fun and enjoy Greece." I knew they only had a few more days left in Disney World and then just the two of them were off to Santorini for a private honeymoon. I cursed the fact that I wouldn't be at home to watch Matty myself while they were gone, but I knew he'd do well with Leo's family for the ten days his fathers would be gone.
Home.
Fuck, that sounded good.
"Okay, we'll talk to you soon," Tate said as he took the tablet.
"Pop-pop, remember your promise," I heard Matty mumble and the view switched to the little boy who'd curled up on his side on Tate's lap. His hands were underneath his cheek, pillowing his face on Tate's chest, but his eyes were closed.
I didn't need to ask what he meant because he'd made me make the same promise several times in the days leading up to him and his fathers leaving for Florida.
Promise you're coming back.
"I remember," I said softly. "Happy New Year, Matty."
Matty nodded slightly and said something I couldn't understand and then he was completely out. I said my goodbyes to his fathers and then disconnected the call. The music sounded like it had gotten even louder … that or it was just a different song that had a heavier bass to it. Either way, it further fueled my irritation with my "bodyguard."
To say I'd been furious with Ronan and Memphis a week earlier when they'd told me they were sending Dante with me to Texas as "a second set of eyes" was an understatement. The shame of anyone thinking I wasn't strong enough to take care of myself had been tough enough to take, but having them make that decision in front of Dante had been like salt in an already open wound, though I didn't really understand why. It wasn't that I hadn't thought the young man capable of watching my back – in fact that was the furthest thing from the truth. No, it was the combination of Dante witnessing my humiliation and the unexplainable anger I'd still been feeling at memory of the sight I'd walked in on in the upstairs guest bathroom, just moments before being summoned to the office.
I felt my insides tighten uncomfortably as an image of Dante's ass flexing flashed in my head.
Fuck, why was that always the first thing I saw when I thought of that night? And why the hell was I still thinking about it a week later?
A normal reaction that day would have been to discreetly remove myself from the situation I'd inadvertently walked in on. Hell, I could have even flipped the lock on the bathroom door so it would have locked behind me, ensuring that no one else walked in on the pair. But no, I'd gone a whole other way.
My anger had been unreasonable and I'd burned with the knowledge that Matty hadn't been the only reason for my fury. But I'd spent the better part of a week trying not to think about that … or Dante's ass.
I'd failed on both counts.
I'd seen a lot in my forty-one years and the sight of two guys having sex shouldn't have bothered me in the least. But seeing Dante's cock being worked over by a virtual stranger had done something to me that still confused the hell out of me. And it wasn't like it should have been a surprise. In fact, it wasn't even the first time I'd caught Dante in that kind of situation.
It had just been the first time I'd actually seen him in action up close … and he'd seen me.
I'd known from the moment I'd met my grandson's bodyguard that he was a player. I'd seen it in the way he looked at me, as well as every nurse and doctor who'd come into Matty's room during the time Hawke and Tate had been introducing him to me and Matty. His voice had practically dripped sex when he'd taken my hand in his and spouted some ridiculous come-on line about how I was way too young to be a grandfather or some bullshit like that. I'd actually questioned Hawke about the man being qualified to watch out for my grandson. But on-duty Dante was very different than off-duty Dante. In fact, the transition had been quite remarkable to see that first day as I'd come and gone from Matty's room. As soon as Dante had taken his post outside Matty's door, he'd morphed into an intense, focused young man who seemed to be studying everything about each person who walked past him. And not in a sexual way. I'd worked with plenty of profilers in my twenty-year career in law enforcement and their mannerisms were very similar to Dante's behavior.
He watched.
He listened.
He studied.
He analyzed.
I could tell all that just from the way his eyes followed people and the firm set of his jaw as he concentrated on whatever it was he was seeing, despite the constant motion and noise that came with being on a busy hospital floor.