“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll just give it to you.” Because Kade never took the money from the lemonade stand like he said he would. Felix has tried shoving the bills in his pockets during the times he visits. And he always finds them tucked under his pillow, or in his kitchen cabinets, or somewhere he wouldn’t look until after Kade leaves.
“Whatever you want. That painting’s worth money, you know.”
And I want you to be happy. That’s worth more than money. Felix sighs. “I guess we’ll see. I can drop it at your place or something, if you text me your address.”
“Okay.”
They fall silent. Felix cradles the phone against his ear, thinking about Kade on the other end of the line, holding the phone to his ear. Kade just listening, waiting for him to speak. He swallows, his chest aching. Kade has to be in his kitchen, or on his couch, the TV turned to mute.
“What are you doing now?” Felix asks, and regrets it immediately. It’s not as though they’re dating or anything.
“Watching the motor-cross races,” Kade says. “You?”
Felix licks his lips, looking at the paintings. “At my dad’s place. I thought I might find the painting here.”
Kade mulls over his words. “Want me to pick you up?”
“No, no. It’s fine,” Felix says, because he shouldn’t. He’ll be leaving Meadowfall, and he doesn’t need to fall in love with this man again. “I’m sorry—I have to go. It’s getting late. I still have to get out without bumping into my dad.”
“Okay. Call if you need anything,” Kade says.
Felix glances at the door.“Will do. Thank you.”
He hits the end call button so he doesn’t linger on Kade’s voice, shoving the phone back into his pocket. He has to leave. This place doesn’t feel like home, and Felix wishes he could just teleport outside, but he can’t.
Painting in hand, he shuts off the lights and cracks the door open. He makes it down three corridors, wooden frame bumping into his thigh, before a lock clicks. “Felix?”
He freezes, heart kicking against his ribs. Slowly, Felix pastes a smile on his face and turns. “Good evening, Father. I didn’t expect to meet you.”
Alastor Henry stands, tall and broad-shouldered, one hand on the doorknob of his study. This late at night, he’s dressed in a starched shirt and a burgundy robe. Felix feels like a school kid in his shirt and jeans. With a frown, his father sniffs the air. “Where’s your scent? You smell like that... Brentwood son, was it?”
Felix swallows. “Kade, yes.”
His father frowns. Kade’s family ranks nowhere near the Henry line, even if Alastor’s two sons are both omegas. Alastor’s status as an alpha mayor far overshadows Kade’s, and for that reason, Felix’s father has never liked Kade. Neither you nor that Brentwood boy are competent enough to inherit the Henry line, Alastor said once. Taylor is far better suited to it.
“Why are you suppressing your scent?” his father asks, looking down his nose at him.
Felix sighs, holding his arm at his side, even though he wants to touch his belly. The bonding mark at his wrist prickles. “I smell like an alpha. Isn’t that enough?”
Alastor’s lips thin. Felix wishes he were far away from Meadowfall. He shouldn’t have turned to his father for help. “He’s not good enough for you.”
Felix almost laughs at that. Really? “His father has passed away. You know that, don’t you?”
Alastor dips his chin. “I may have heard about it.”
“You forced them into bankruptcy,” Felix says, heat building in his chest. He’s had two months to think about this, since that afternoon at the lemonade stand, and he’s been regretting his decisions ever since. He—and his father—had caused Kade’s dad to die. His voice wavers. “Mr. Brentwood had to return to work, and it killed him. I can’t believe you asked for my help.”
Because it was his father who had said, I’m planning to rebrand some estates. Could you do some artist’s impressions for higher-end housing?
Felix had pored over those impressions for days, and his father had taken those drawings and marketed them to a wealthier crowd. Then, he had raised the rents for the existing community, sinking them into debt. Then the new tenants had started moving in, and Felix only realized then which community his father had been referring to. And Kade never found out who caused it, because the Henry line was never linked to the rental corporation.
“I’m sorry to hear about their loss,” his father says, his face pulling into a solemn mask, like the countless times he’s had to listen to the people’s woes.
“You’re not sorry at all,” Felix mutters, his eyes burning. “You only care about money.”
His father meets his gaze. Felix reads flinty disapproval, even now. “Do I?”
“I’m sorry my choices disappoint you,” Felix says. The words clog up his throat. “I was just here to retrieve a painting.”
“I see.” His father’s gaze flickers to the frame. “I hope you’ve been doing better in Meadowfall.”
Barely. “I have, thank you. It’s getting late. I hope you’ll have a pleasant day tomorrow,” Felix says, nodding. His skin itches. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” his father says. “I’ll see you again.”
Felix walks stiffly to the end of the corridor. The moment he rounds the corner, he runs, his eyes stinging. He hates his father. Hates what he’s done, hates himself for starting it all. He dashes along the carpets, feet thumping down the stairs, across the marble-lined foyer. Then he pushes out of the front door, and the night air is chilly against his skin.
Felix stumbles down the driveway, catching himself before he falls. His fingertips press white into the glass of the painting, and all he thinks about is Kade, Kade protecting him, Kade’s warm arms curving around him and their child. Don’t wanna knock you up, Kade had said.
I miss you, Felix thinks, but he doesn’t have Kade to return home to, either.
15
Kade
Kade sets the third bolt down on the concrete garage floor, glancing at the wall clock. 1:10PM. Felix still isn’t
