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“I don’t—” Finn’s gaze darted around. “I don’t know why or who.”
“Let’s find out then.” Jackson pulled out his phone. “He had to have been caught on camera. Since your laptop is in pieces, I’ll get us a copy of the footage.” He lifted the phone to his ear as he stomped from the room.
“It’s pretty terrifying when they get pissed,” Grant said quietly.
It was. Michael didn’t know how Jackson was going to get the camera footage, but he didn’t put anything past Jackson and his group.
All Michael could do was hug Daddy Finn as they waited.
It was terrible that someone had done all this damage, but no one had gotten hurt. Wasn’t that what was important? They could easily fix up the office and act like it never happened. As long as they figured out who had been this angry.
And why they were claiming Michael’s Daddy.
* * * * *
Finn
“Let’s—” Finn was fucking lost. He just didn’t know what to do. There was a lot that Finn had done wrong in his life but this…this fucking mess, he did not know where it had come from. Finn hated feeling so out of control. “Let’s go downstairs.” He couldn’t stand being in that office one more second.
“Good idea, Daddy.” Michael squeezed his waist before he took Finn’s hand with his own.
His sweet little one. Michael hadn’t looked at him with accusing eyes or even thought for a second that Finn might have betrayed him. Jackson hadn’t either. Jackson was angry, but Finn knew that it wasn’t at him.
Whoever had done this had no idea what trouble he had coming for him.
He allowed Michael to lead him out of the office and down the stairs. Back at the bar, Jackson stood making a fresh pot of coffee while still talking on the phone, his cell between his cheek and shoulder. Michael pushed Finn into a chair situated at the closest table to the bar before he hurried and started to help Jackson.
Finn couldn’t look away.
Sure, Michael worked there. And Jackson was at the club a lot. But when had they become more than just fixtures and part of what made the club what it was? With pride, Finn watched his two men as they worked around each other.
Jackson continued whispering into his cell while pointing something out to Michael. Michael didn’t even pause in getting the coffeepot filled with water, passing something to Jackson, then grabbing four mugs.
They were so different from each other. Michael might be smaller, thinner, with less of a formative presence than Jackson’s muscular, darker, and dangerous vibes but they just looked so fucking amazing together.
“I’m happy for you, my friend.”
Finn had to force his gaze away from his partners and to his old friend. Finn had known Grant a long time. Even before Grant had found his pretty baby, Caleb, he had been a regular fixture at the club. One of the first members to join. Finn had never had any doubts about offering membership to a cop. Grant was so much more than a police officer. He was a good Dom, a damn fine Daddy, and perfect for his boy.
“I appreciate it,” Finn said sincerely.
Grant smiled. “We all expected Michael to become yours. A little surprised that Jackson became part of your relationship as well.”
Finn frowned.
Grant held up his hands. “No disrespect. I know better than anyone that what someone portrays to the outside world often isn’t who they are.”
That was right. Grant’s boy had been labeled a brat but ended up being one of the sweetest, kindest littles in the club. Caleb had just needed someone who understood his needs. Much like Jackson. Finn nodded. “It works for us.”
“So, you really can’t think of someone that’s jealous of what you have now?” Grant questioned.
“I don’t even know who that kind of information would have reached already,” Grant replied. “We haven’t been together publicly that often. Hell, it wasn’t until this past weekend that we declared our intentions to one another. Jackson…he took some convincing.” That was putting it mildly.
“Someone knows,” Grant said.
“Maybe it’s someone that thinks I’m encroaching on their territory,” Finn offered. “They could want Michael or Jackson.” That didn’t sit right with Finn. He trusted his partners as much as they did him, but it was possible.
“We’ll ask them.” Grant motioned to where Michael and Jackson walked toward them carrying coffee mugs.
