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The warmth of his statement spread through my chest. I shrugged and gave him a smile. "You're a half-decent father. I’ll give you that."
"Well, Jasmine and I did our best."
I smiled at the memory of Jasmine. She was the first person since my mum died who had thought about giving me a hot breakfast. Uncle Charlie, well, he had fed me, but mostly cold cereals or convenient shit like Pop-Tarts. There was occasionally a fruit or two thrown on the plate. But Jasmine made sure I had warm oats, eggs, sausage, bacon, and lots of fruits. Uncle Charlie had tried his best, but he wasn't one for the warm and fuzzy. He had a great housekeeper, but most of the good times I remembered were in Jasmine and Reginald's house. It always felt like home.
I plated the eggs and checked on the bacon. "I do care about her, you know?"
He chuckled low. "You think I don't know that? Please. You wouldn't have brought her here if you didn't care for her. You wanted her looked after. And after all, this is your home."
I frowned at that. "I could have easily taken her to the condo."
"Yes, and the condo is, um, fine."
I turned to raise my brow. "What does that mean?"
"Lad, that condo is dry. Dry, dry, dry. It might as well be a hotel. Not a picture in sight. It's like no one actually lives there."
"I live there."
"Do you, though? It might as well be a safehouse as far as you're concerned."
"It's just a place to lay my head. It doesn't mean anything."
"And that's exactly it. She would have been safe, but not looked after. Whenever you need looking after, you come here."
"Not true."
He just chuckled. "Boy, when are you going to realize you need family as much as the next person?"
An image flashed in my head of me and Daphne holding hands, Reginald holding a brown cherub that had Daphne’s smile. That was a thing that could happen.
Except you’re going back into the field.
Field agents didn’t get families.
"Fine. I need to get the banking information to get answers. And while taking that ledger, the key to him taking over The Syndicate, it’ll make him well ticked. And emotional people make poor decisions.
He sighed. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Regardless of what's going on, I have to make it safe for her. Because in the end, when she's done with me, she needs to be able to go home. She has to walk away from this intact. I would never forgive myself if…" I didn't finish the statement, almost half afraid that I could call it into being. “I'm going to make it safe for her, so she can go home.”
He studied me. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you want her."
"Yes, I do. But do you think this life is good for her? She needs family. It's written all over her. She deserves family. I can’t give her that."
Reginald shook his head. "You're so close, but you still don't get it, do you?"
"What does that mean?"
"Lad, you both need family. She's just the one smart enough to know it."
"I have family. I have you."
"You do. But you can have so much more."
I shifted on my feet and turned off the stove, taking the bacon off the heat. "I have what I need, and I'm close to getting what I want. Getting back in the field."
"What about what you really want? When you think about yourself five, ten, fifteen years from now, will you still be in the field?"
