Page 119 of The Logic of Loyalty

“It was a little of them, and a lot of me. Dad made some big mistakes.”

“Oh. You apologized, right?”

“Of course. Many times, and I’ll keep apologizing.” I test the waters. “What did Grandma and Grandpa say that might make your mom cry?

He lets out a small breath as I pull up again. “Well, they weren’t talking about me the whole time.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “They were talking about Mom, mostly.”

Fuck. “They aren’t very nice to Mom, are they, bud?”

“They called her trailer trash and said that it would have been better if I were left in a dumpster and her mom actually took her wherever she disappeared to with the money.”

My body goes rigid. My hands tighten on the steering wheel until someone honks. “Shit, shit. Son, I’m—you—I’m sorry you had to deal with that. They aren’t good people. I shouldn’t have made you go into that house.”

“I wanted to hang with Aunt Beth, though.”

“Oh, well, yeah. I guess so.”

“She made sure I wasn’t around them. And Dad, you already told me they weren’t nice people, but that we need to do our best to be kind in the face of unkindness, and that kindness⁠—”

“Doesn’t have to be weakness. Yeah, I remember.” Before I know it, it’s our turn, and he’s unbuckling and stepping out the door. “Whoa, you don’t want to say anything else?”

“Sorry, yes! I love you, Dad! Bye!” He shuts the door and runs off into the school, leaving me with the knowledge that my kid is way fucking smarter than I am and that I’m almost positive my parents paid Paige’s mom off to leave.

“Ready?”

“Holy shit. How did you get in here?” I hang my coat and place my empty workbag on my desk, then double-check my pocket. Still there. I still can’t believe Bethany threw the damn thing at me.

“You gave me a key. Were you actually sick?”

“Sick of this shit.” Not surprisingly, Asher doesn’t laugh.

“Don’t do anything stupid. The only reason you know as much as you do is so you don’t screw shit up.”

“You seem jumpy.”

“This is a big hit. It has to go correctly.” He slumps against the wall. “They obviously want low fuss, but considering who they’re collecting, well, your father isn’t quiet. He knows a lot, though—” He trails off. “They’re going to be coming in hot once the first officer is through the door. I’m making, or observing, the arrest of your father. Everything has kept with the timeline we expected, but I want the backup.” His phone beeps, and he smiles when he checks it. “Game on.”

The door flies open, and my father stands there, chest puffed out and face already red. “Boy, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but for being sick, you were sure seen an awful lot around town. People in this office⁠—”

“Take it up with HR.” I turn back to Asher, but shockingly, my father interrupts again.

“You ungrateful piece of shit. Have you forgotten who made you? What I’m in possession of?”

If I say too much to this man, I’m going to break his fucking face for what he said about my family and did to my wife. I have to remember that I am hitting him where it actually hurts. I helped make today happen. Hitting him will take me from my family, and I’m so done with being away from my family.

He takes a menacing step in my direction, raising his hand when a soft knock comes at the door. He drops his hand quickly and turns to the newcomer. Perfect timing.

A man dressed in sweats and an I’m here, what more do you want T-shirt walks directly into my office behind my father. “Dick Shitaker?”

I almost fucking lose it, then Asher gives a very suspicious cough.

“What did you just say to me?”

He hands over the envelope. “Mr. Dick Whitaker, you’ve been served.”