“She didn’t know about our secrets,” Archer said, sounding bored.
Adam could feel his anger rising. “Exactly. If she had, she would have used it to drain our family dry. She was an absolute fucking nightmare. Noah doesn’t want anything from us. Besides, if you’re so concerned he’s going to go run and tell the world, wouldn’t the more prudent move be to keep him close, not alienate him further?”
“Adam, you’re being childish,” Atticus said.
Adam shot a glare in Atticus’s direction. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be synthesizing a protein or growing ears on the back of rats or something? Why do you care who or what I’m doing all of a sudden?”
“I care for the same reason we all do. There are a million guys you can stick your dick into—what is your deal with this one? Is this just another cry for attention? Haven’t you gotten enough?”
Adam sent the knife in his hand sailing towards Atticus, feeling some satisfaction at the way his brother flinched when it embedded into the wall just behind his head.
Atticus blew a breath out of his nose. “There. That right there is what I’m talking about. You’re almost thirty years old. Stop acting like a spoiled brat.”
Adam leaned forward. “I’m twenty-seven and, yes, I am an adult. As an adult, I can stick my dick in whoever I want.”
“So, you are fucking him? The child of the man you murdered?” Archer asked.
“Don’t say it like that. He’s twenty-one.” I think.
“He’s setting you up,” August said again, voice almost completely devoid of emotion.
“No. He’s not. I’ve been following him for weeks. He had the chance to kill me and he never took it.”
“Because you decided to show him evidence that his father was a child molester,” Atticus said, fuming.
“What should I have done, Atticus? Let him kill me? Kill him? That goes against our code. It’s not Noah’s fault he was raised by a sick fuck like Wayne Holt. He was one of his victims, too, you know.”
“So, what?” August asked.
Adam froze. “So, what?”
“Yeah, so, what? What do you care if he had a shitty childhood? I know we’ve all been taught to act as if we have emotions, but you aren’t pretending. So, what’s happening here?”
“What do you care? I like him. I like being with him.”
“Calliope says she sent you that information two weeks ago. Why are you fighting this hard for a guy you don’t know?”
“Because I do know him. And he knows me. In all the ways that matter.”
“Oh, Christ,” August muttered. “I might have expected this Romeo and Juliet bullshit from Avi or Asa, but not you.”
Adam gripped tightly to the one nerve he had left, spitting, “Oh, fuck you, August.”
“Lower your voice,” August cautioned, leaning back in his seat. “The closer you get to him, the worse it's going to be when you have to let him go. End it. Now. Because if you don’t, we’ll have to tell Dad, and I don’t think you’ll like how he chooses to end it.”
Adam shoved his chair away from the table, the feet scraping loudly over the marble floor. “Go ahead. Tell Dad. And while you’re at it, tell him this. I’m keeping Noah. He’s mine.”
“He’s not a toy. He’s a human being,” Archer muttered.
His rage took hold, his hands fisted at his sides. “He’s mine. I won’t give him up. Don’t push me on this or I swear to fucking God, I’ll burn it all down. Do you hear me? If you make me choose, I’ll choose him.”
“You don’t even know him, Adam. And you don’t get to make these decisions for all of us.”
Adam stalked towards Atticus, snatching his knife from the wall before storming out of the room. He walked through the kitchen to the garage, pulling a set of keys from the array on the board, choosing his father’s Audi R8 before jamming his finger on the button to retract the garage door. As soon as he dropped into the leather seat, he turned the engine over. It purred like a kitten.
He threw the car in reverse and slammed his foot on the gas, only seeing the older man behind him at the last possible moment. The breaks screeched as the car’s bumper stopped a hair's breadth away from his kneecaps. Adam’s heart jackhammered behind his ribcage as he watched his father approach the driver’s side, using a single finger to indicate he needed to roll down the window.
As always, his father’s voice was deceptively calm. “Adam.”
“Dad.”
He sighed. “Why are you trying to run me down at midnight with my own car?”
“I-I wasn’t. I just needed to clear my head, and I didn’t want to walk.”
“I’m quite certain I paid for a rather expensive BMW not six months ago. Please, don’t tell me you totaled it already.”
“No. I just wanted the R8. I need to break the law.”
His father chuckled. “Who pissed you off this time? Archer? Atticus? It couldn’t have been August. Avi and Asa aren’t even in town. Aiden doesn’t talk enough to piss you off. So, who was it?”
“Nobody. I just need to think.”
“You can’t lie to me, you know. I’m the one who taught you how. I know all your tells.”
Adam blew a breath out through his nose. “They were staging an intervention.”
“And why is that?”
“Because they don’t like my new boyfriend.”
His father gave a sage nod. “The Holt boy.”
Adam’s gaze went wide. “You know?”
“I know everything my boys get up to. It’s my job,” his father said. “How much have you told him?”
“He already knew a lot of it. But I filled in some blanks for him,” Adam admitted. He’d never been able to lie to his father, not even when he was little. It was hard to lie to somebody who seemed to love you unconditionally. No matter how unlovable you were.
“Do you think that was the wisest course of action?”
Adam nodded. “You tell us to trust our instincts. That’s what I did. Instinctively, I know Noah would never betray me,” he said. “Or you.”
“This could complicate things for the whole family if it goes sideways,” his father cautioned.