Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Mason

It didn't take long for Dad to appear in my office.

"Dad, what a surprise."

"Son," he greets me as he slides into one of the leather chairs in front of my desk. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well. How long are you staying in Seattle?" I wonder if I should leave tonight to avoid him for however long he's around.

"Not long." He pulls out his phone and sets it up on the desk. "The Deckers don't need me as often. Some days I think they only invite me along because we're friends and not because of my services."

I crook a brow and watch him as he speaks about something I never thought about before. I wonder if they're using another company.

"My personal services," he continues, as if he reads my mind. "They use the company for everything else. I bet if the children were younger, I'd be busier. That reminds me, how long are you going to be in town?"

"Not long," I respond and chuckle as there's not much difference from his answer to mine. "Depends on what job I decide to personally oversee." Nothing has pulled my interest. Everything we have on the table are short-term projects.

"The Princess moved to Seattle."

"The neighborhood where she moved is on the higher end, and as you recall, she has a HIB Securities system installed. Are the Deckers concerned?"

"Not about the neighborhood, but Porter."

The palpitations of my heart speed up as blood rushes through my veins. I'd warned the asshole he'd better stay away from her.

"I'll make sure he stays far away." My voice is steady, the rage in control. As long as I don't break the mouse from the tight grip of my hand, Dad won't notice. "Anything else?"

"How about a visit to your mother?" The statement is a question but also a gentle order. "You haven't visited her in a long time."

"Why do you still talk to her?"That puzzles me… they make no sense. Each time he speaks about my mother, I hope something will come up. A call, an explosion… the end of the world. "You've been divorced since I was a year old, and you can't stand each other."

"Because we have you in common," he explains. "I respect her. If anything, she gave me you. When you become a father, you'll understand. I'll always be thankful to her for giving me that gift and letting me be a part of your life."

As if I'll ever become a father. His old age is hitting him hard. I admire him because he can live his life pining for my mom, but he doesn't need anyone around to survive. I learned not to need my parents or anyone else to survive either.

Not once does he bring up the moment I turned sixteen and they both agreed to send me to live with my uncle Alfred and my aunt Tara—his brother and sister-in-law—because it was best for me.

Mom was on husband number five, the jerk who tried to hit me, and who I beat the shit out of. A perk of being trained by my father from a young age. She couldn't live with me anymore. I needed a male figure. Dad was busy and couldn't have me living with the Deckers. They already had their hands full.

"Maybe you remember your childhood a different way from how it actually was, Mason," he suggests. "But we weren't that bad. We both tried our best. Your mother loves you and wants to be part of your adult life. I do, too, but it's hard when you keep yourself out of reach."

Now he makes me sound like a complete jerk. After the way they pushed and tugged me around, I'm the one who fucks up the entire family portrait they worked to create all these years.

"You're too old to blame your parents for whatever fucked-up issues are going through your mind, Son."

I have no idea what he's talking about and work hard not to regress to rolling my eyes or yelling at him. "Nothing is going on, Dad."

"Then why not buy a place and settle?" he asks. "Living inside this office isn't healthy. I worry about you, about what'll happen to you twenty or forty years from now."

He stands up and looks around the office. "I'm proud of everything you've accomplished so far, but this won't fulfill your life. Think about it."

I massage the bridge of my nose as I assimilate the bunch of crap he's telling me. "You're alone," I bring out the truth, not trying to hurt him.

"No, I'm not a lonely man as you believe me to be, and I have you." His head slightly leans to where I sit.

He can't finish the phrase as Jody enters the room. "You have Commander Terrance on line two… it's urgent."

"You can stay at my place," Dad offers.

"See you around, Dad."

"Commander," I greet him.

"We have a hostage situation, Bradley," his shaky voice continues, "How quickly can your people arrive at the base?"

"Soon. How bad?"

"Explosives are involved."

"I'll oversee from here. You'll have someone there in a few minutes."

I hang up and start shooting emails while trying to find my eyes on the ground. The adrenaline rush surges through me as I plan the operation and gather my people.Nothing like a last-minute operation to shake the sour taste of my family.

I should head to Africa, replace the team, and continue the surveillance on the paramilitary cell the company is spying on. That's less lethal than my mother's lectures, Dad's worries, and Ainsley's green eyes and tasty mouth.