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Vince sighed, then sank down on a chair at the table. “Does this mean we’re having pizza again?”
The fact that a twelve-year-old boy was not excited about ordering pizza proved to Leo he’d fucked up one too many mealtimes lately.
“Um,” Leo said, trying to figure out what else they could order. If he had time, he’d just say screw it and take them out for dinner, but he had too many damn chores to do here, things that he’d gotten behind on.
The sound of glass breaking had him groaning, even as he hastened to the living room.
Clint was standing next to the end table, barefoot, pointing to the dog. “It wasn’t me. It was Boomer. He knocked over my glass of soda.”
“Why are you drinking soda? I thought your dad said no more Coke before dinner. You won’t eat your food if you fill up on pop.”
Vince grumbled. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? There isn’t any dinner.”
Leo was pretty sure he wasn’t going to enjoy the teenage years with his kid. Vince was already a pretty accomplished smartass.
“I’ll figure out dinner.”
Clint started to move, but Leo held up his hand. “Not one step, Clint, or you’ll cut your foot. Stay there while I clean up this mess.”
It had obviously been a full glass of soda because the sticky liquid had managed to splash over a good third of the floor. Thank God they had hardwood or he’d be heading out tomorrow to rent a carpet cleaner. Like he had time to do that.
He returned to the kitchen to grab a dustpan and mop. As he bent over to clean up the mess, he tried to remember when he’d lost complete control of his life.
Sadly, he knew the answer to that.
Three years ago.
Everything had fallen apart three years earlier.
It had been a day just like any other day. But little did he know when he’d walked into Pat’s Pub to make his delivery that he was about to have the rug pulled out from under his feet.
He’d been in the kitchen, chatting with Riley and Yvonne, when he’d gotten a phone call…
* * *
Leo glanced at the screen of his phone and frowned.
“Telemarketer?” Yvonne asked.
He shook his head as he answered. The call was from Denise’s husband, Ryder Hagen, and while it wasn’t completely out of the norm for Ryder to call him, it was definitely unusual.
“Hey, Leo. Sorry to bother you. Um…where are you right now?”
Ryder’s tone put him on instant alert. “What happened? Is Vince okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Vince is fine. He and Clint are both at school.”
Leo blew out a long, relieved breath and fought to control his suddenly racing heart. “Oh. Good.”
However, even as he said it, he knew things weren’t good.
“What do you need, Ryder?”
Ryder fell silent for a moment. “Can we meet somewhere right now? To talk?”
Something was seriously wrong, something bad enough that Ryder felt the need to speak in person.
“You know where Pat’s Pub is?”
