8. Flint

“And?” His brow quirked, his eyes alert.

“I have to go. I’ll fill you in tonight.”

What I didn’t say was that the man in the photo Tony showed me was familiar but not the name. I’d spent the night keeping Emilio and pack elders awake with my questions about Antonio, whose real name was Anthony, and I hoped La Luna Noir had nothing to do with his death.

I also didn’t let on that I’d stayed the night outside the door to the basement. I’d dragged couch cushions along with a blanket and a pillow onto the floor, hoping to hear him breathing or mumbling in his sleep. But the thick door thwarted even my shifter senses.

“That’s not fair. You can’t leave me wondering.” He grabbed my arm, and fuck, a current surged though my veins. We both fell back, my expression probably mirroring Tony’s one of confusion and awe.

Get it over with and mate him, my wolf sighed.

What I’d found out, and I didn’t have all the information yet, wasn’t something I could tell his son and run off.

Why not?My wolf was bored with the cat-and-mouse game.

“I don’t have the whole story.”

His eyes widened. “So you did have him killed.” He pummeled my chest, and I let him, his tiny fists smashing against me seemed like the punishment I deserved for not treating him like any other employee who’d fucked up. I longed to wrap my arms around him, letting him have his temper tantrum, before carrying him to bed and mating him.

My wolf said nothing. He’d never witnessed anyone treat me this way, not even my brothers when we were younger.

Grabbing his hands, I held them tight until he stilled, tears leaking from his eyes, sobs wracking his body. He sniffed, and I allowed him to pull out of my grasp.

“Why? My stepdad is a kind guy, but you took away the man who was a part of me, and you almost ruined my omega dad’s life and mine.”

“Sit.” My command left no room for refusal, and he slumped into an armchair, bringing both knees to his chin and wrapping his arms around them. I poured a glass of water and placed a box of tissues on the side table.

“Your father worked for my grandfather and father.”

“What?” Tony’s head shot up, and the water sloshed over his white robe. “I don’t believe you.”

“Emilio remembers him and so do some old-timers in my p… ummm, group.” I’d been going to say pack, but in the state Tony was in, he might not have noticed. I didn’t add that there was a photo of Anthony in my den, along with my dad, grandfather, and me as a young child. As soon as Tony showed me the pic, I recognized him.

“Why would I take your word?”

Ahhh, this human was so irritating I wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled.

“In my world, my word is law.”

“Oh yeah? Well, that’s not my world, and my father would never have worked for the mob extorting money from people.” He folded his arms and rested them on his knees.

“We don’t do that.” I waved my hand. “That is small-time stuff.”

I should have given up and left. Told Emilio where to find Tony and spent the rest of my life grieving for something that had been within arm’s reach but was untouchable.

“How old were you when he died?”

He shrugged. “A baby.”

“So you didn’t know him, but you’re convinced he wouldn’t have worked for my family.”

“My dad told me he was a good man.”

“My organization is full of good men.” There was a sliding scale of what “good” meant.

“Pfft. You siphon money from ordinary people who are too scared to speak up and import drugs that ruin lives.” He waved his hand in the air and sniffed.

We did none of that, but now wasn’t the time to lecture him on morals and our pack’s business, but I would leave him something to chew over. “Your father was part of the mafia, but I suspect he never told your omega dad.”

Tony lifted his head, his pale, tear-stained face staring at a spot on my chest.

“Why? Why would he work for you?”

I hadn’t expected to break a guy’s heart, gutting his dreams about his dead father. That wasn’t part of the plan, though since last night, the plan had been torn, shredded, and stamped on. There was no freaking plan, and I hated uncertainty.

“He was born into this life. His folks were part of La Luna Noir.”

“Huh? He worked at the club?” He plucked a tissue from the box and wiped his red-rimmed eyes.

Big mistake, my wolf piped up.

Shush!

The club existed back in the day but looked nothing like it did now. But I was talking about the pack, the one my grandfather created and named after he was thrown out of his birth pack. He’d disrespected the Alpha and was lucky to survive with a scar raking along one side of his body. But he’d never seen his parents again.

“Maybe. I’m not sure about that. But he wasn’t a stranger to the mafia. Both his fathers worked for my grandfather.”

Tony wiped a hand over his face, and my heart softened. I’d dealt him a severe blow. The father he never knew, who had been held up as an honest man, one who would have loved and provided for his family, was a member of the mafia. I didn’t see the contradiction. I was honest to a fault, at least from my perspective.

“I… I see.” He dabbed his eyes again.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.”

He pressed his lips together before fiddling with a thread on the robe. “But that doesn’t answer how he died.”

“As I mentioned, I don’t have all the details.” I may never, but I’d sent word to Emilio to investigate. Our family had an aversion to keeping records, saving only what was necessary. I’d have to rely on people’s memory.

But I had to get to the office, the one in the gleaming office building in the city center that I’d had built, an ode to our pack’s success with me at the head.

“You have food for today. I’ll bring more this evening.”

I got up awkwardly. Leaving a guy you’d kidnapped when he’d learned bad news about his father screamed cruel. But focusing on work pushed the decision about his fate further away.

“Don’t leave me, please.”

I could stay a while. “Do you like coffee?”

He studied me from behind his long dark lashes dotted with teardrops. “Are you asking me on a date?”

And he had to go and ruin the moment with snark. “I was being kind.”

I flounced to the coffee maker and grabbed two mugs, not speaking, only fuming, until I had two steaming cups. Too bad if he wanted sugar, I was in no mood to act as a good host, though maybe sugar might have sweetened him up. I tried to imagine being mated to Tony. It’d be like living with a prickly pear.

I shoved the mug at him, and the seconds ticked by before he took it, mumbling a thank-you. He took a sip and made the ahhh sound people did when they got their first coffee in the morning. It was an “all’s right with the world” sigh, except nothing was right in Tony’s life, nor mine.

“Is it weird that you have a huge house, grounds, and probably a large-ass pool, but we’re sitting in the basement?”

I studied my manicured nails, not wanting to admit I slept down here most nights and ate breakfast and often dinner in the apartment.

“You’re wrong.” I drank a mouthful of coffee. “It’s only a medium-ass-sized pool.”

His eyes crinkled, and he put two fingers to his lips. He snorted, the coffee jiggling in the cup. “You’re funny.”

No one had ever called me that. I was the serious one, the responsible son who had taken over the pack before I was ready. I wasn’t funny. Ever!

“You didn’t think so last night.”

He stiffened. “Well, sorry for not laughing as I was kicked, slammed into a wall, thrown on the floor, and kidnapped.”

I gripped the cup. “When I mentioned licorice.”

“Huh?” He frowned and took another sip. “You inserted yourself when I was talking about being scared. Dark places. I thought you…” His voice trailed away, and his gaze dropped to his coffee.

“Sorry. I thought we were telling each other interesting things about ourselves.” Saying it out loud sounded pretty silly. No wonder he was pissed.

He opened his mouth in a perfect O, and our eyes locked on one another. “Underneath that tough exterior, you’re a softie.”

Maybe. But I never showed it to anyone, and I convinced myself my hard-as-nails shell was the real me. Mostly it was.

“Not really.” I drained my cup and got up.

“You’re leaving?”

This human tugged at my heart, and his scent had my belly fluttering. While I didn’t want to work, I needed to clear my head and consider the immediate future. I couldn’t keep him locked up forever, but also, he couldn’t go back to his previous life. But the only punishment I wanted to give him was to bend him over my knee and smack his beautiful behind before I fucked him.

“Yeah.”

“Will you be sending Emilio here?”

“No.” Why would I do that? So he could bang up Tony more? That wasn’t happening.

“Please find out more about Antonio.”

He didn’t say “my father” or “my dad.” Maybe he was divorcing himself from the perfect memory of the man he never knew.

I may not be able to fill in the blanks and tell Tony how his father died. It may have been a natural death. But for sure I couldn’t say who he really was ‘cause that would break our pack’s code of silence.

How could I tell Tony his father was a shifter?