He looks incredulous, like he can’t believe I even have to ask the question.
“You’re my children, and as hard as it is to believe that Lawrence would do such a thing, if I’d known where you were, I’d have done anything to get to you.”
Pretty words, but that’s all they are.
“Even at the expense of your precious company?” Hawk sneers.
Barton sighs, sinking deeper into his chair. “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, son, but I never wanted any of this. I argued against recruiting children for years, but they outnumbered me in the vote, and after El—uh—Hadley disappeared, I just gave up caring.” He shrugs. “I let them do whatever they wanted.”
Sounds like a great excuse to me—blaming everyone else and shouldering none of the responsibility yourself.
I share a look with Beck, and I can see he doesn’t quite believe Barton either. “What is it you do want, then?” he asks, watching him closely.
Barton glances at Hawk, then at me before he responds, “I just want my family back together.”
Yeah, I can’t see that happening any time soon.
Hawk and I share a look, and I can see he’s trying to figure out if we can trust him.
When he focuses back on his father, he’s got a serious, no-nonsense expression on his face. “As far as we’re concerned, Lawrence is dead, and the compound has been destroyed. Do we have anything we have to worry about?”
“I’m not going to tell your mother, or Wilbert, any of this. If they ever found out…” He shakes his head, not finishing his sentence, but he doesn’t need to. We might have burned their compound to the ground, but they still have plenty of mercenaries working for them that were away on jobs and live elsewhere. If they had any reason to suspect it was us, we’d be dead.
“Why wouldn’t you tell your wife?” I question suspiciously.
“She’s as invested in the company’s future as the others. She’s been making the decisions for our family and running things for a long time now. I’m basically just the figurehead.”
Looking at the others, I’m not the only one surprised by that statement.
“She and Wilbert are planning to rebuild. They think the compound was attacked by a rival company.”
“A rival company?”
Barton quirks a brow at me. “The mercenary business is extremely cutthroat. You didn’t think we were the only ones out there, did you? The high level of security was intended for more than keeping people in. We’ve had issues in the past with competitors taking out our people, so the working theory is that this was an escalation in their attempts to wipe us off the map.”
“At least that works in our favor.” West chews on his bottom lip as he thinks. “They won’t have any reason to suspect us.”
“As long as no one gives them a reason,” Beck sneers, glowering at Barton in warning.
“I’ve already told you I’m not going to tell them anything,” Barton snaps, getting angry.
“I’m sure you’ll understand if we can’t trust you,” Hawk states bluntly, not sounding as though he gives a shit about whether or not his dad understands.
Barton presses his lips together, and I don’t miss the hurt look that flashes across his face. “I get that. I never wanted you this involved, not in this side of things, but you’ll have to continue to play along for now.”
“For how long?” I snap. “They’ve been playing by your rules their whole lives. When do they—any of us—get to start living our lives, our way?”
I can’t place the look in Barton’s eye, but I’m surprised at the strength of the promise in his words. “I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. Play along a bit longer, and I promise, I’ll help you shut the whole thing down, then you can do whatever you want with the rest of your lives.”
Chapter 12
I don’t trust Barton Davenport, and thankfully it doesn’t look like anyone else does either, as each of us share distrustful looks after his little promise. He’s just as likely to toss us under the bus to save his own ass.
Unfortunately, if what he’s saying is true, that they’re talking about rebuilding the compound, then we might have no choice but to rely on him. We thought that with the compound destroyed, and both Lawrence and Frank out of the picture, we’d be fucking done with this bullshit. But of course, you have to chop the head off a snake to kill it. Unfortunately, this snake still has three heads left.
“Fine,” Hawk eventually spits out. “But we do things our way.” Barton doesn’t seem pleased, but he doesn’t argue. “Oh, and just so you know, we’re done with the tradition.”
“But—”
“And I’m not marrying Wilder,” Hadley throws in, ignoring Barton’s protest.
“She’s not marrying anyone,” I growl out before he can get any ideas about setting her up with someone else. He looks at me in confusion, before he tries to argue again.
“I don’t—”
“It’s non-negotiable,” Mason interrupts this time, stepping closer to Hadley, so his arm brushes hers. Her other hand is still clasped tightly in Cam’s, and I can see Barton getting more confused by the second. It’s almost comical.
Seeing that there is no point in disagreeing, he stops trying. “Alright.” His gaze continues to bounce between each of us, questions swirling around in his head, but smartly he doesn’t ask any of them. Not long later, he leaves, after placing an envelope with Hadley’s name scrawled across it on my desk.
It takes longer for me to kick the rest of the guys out, so Hadley and I can salvage what remains of her session—ah, who am I kidding, our hour is long since over. I just wanted time alone with my girl. I’ve hardly gotten any since we got her back, and I’ve heard from the others she’s not sleeping well, and she’s been jumpy and on edge. All perfectly normal considering everything she has been through, but it just makes it harder for me to keep my distance from her, and maintain this pretense. Especially now that the guys are being open about their relationship with her. I’m mature enough to admit I’m jealous. A few times I have spotted her with them on campus, with their arms wrapped around her, kissing her, and goddammit, if I don’t want to claim her as mine too.
The second the door clicks closed behind the others, I drag her into my arms and kiss her like she’s the oxygen I need to breathe. “I think we need to look at upping the number of weekly sessions you’re getting.”