John set the beers down. “Yeah. I know.”
I reached out and slapped Rupert’s stomach. “Maybe it’s all those deep fried pickles you ate at the bar before the meeting.”
Rupert narrowed his eyes. “Fuck off with that nonsense. And I mean it.”
I nodded. “I know you do.”
“Max, you’re sure your old man couldn’t have had a hand in this? Because you know I don’t trust the bastard.”
I cracked open my beer. “Who said anything about ruling him out?”
John slammed his bottle down. “I did. You know damn good and well Dad didn’t have shit to do with this.”
I thumbed over toward my brother. “He seems to think that if my father was behind it, he would’ve been there.”
Rupert shrugged. “Well, you said there was a fourth person in the car.”
John clicked his tongue. “Dad would’ve had a front row seat to the damn show, and we all know it.”
Rupert took a pull from his beer. “I mean, how close was that car, or whatever? He could’ve had a front row seat from there for all we know.”
“Dad didn’t do this.”
“You got any proof of that?”
I held my hand up. “The two of you can stop now.”
Rupert held up his hands in mock surrender. “Look, all I’m saying is, we don’t rule anything out until we have proof otherwise. Deal?”
I nodded. “Sounds fair enough.”
John shook his head. “I’m telling you, this isn’t Dad. We know Dad. We know his MO. How he works. You know this isn’t him.”
And as much as I hated to admit it, he had a point.
“Max, our father’s a monster. Right? Even I get that. But he has lines he wouldn't cross. A man like him still operates on morals. Even if they’re skewed.”
Rupert snickered. “Ashton has no morals.”
John hissed. “He does when it comes to his sons.”
I scoffed. “I beg to differ on that.”
“The garage was a one-time thing. Quit pissing him off.”
Rupert paused. “The garage?”
I eyed John hotly. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Shock rolled over his face. “What? How the hell am I supposed to know you haven’t told your best bud about shit like that?”
“Tell me what? The hell’s going on?”
I sighed. “Dad sicced a couple of his bodyguards on me in our garage a couple of weeks back.”
Rupert leaned forward. “And you didn’t tell me? The fuck’s wrong with that man? And you’re sitting here thinking he didn’t order some men to jump you? After he did it himself?”
“That’s what I’m trying to say,” I said as I stretched out my legs under the table. “If this was Dad, he would’ve been there. Physically. He would’ve given the order himself. Yes, Dad has a code. And that code is to not kill his sons, but witness their ass-kicking if they need one. This isn’t Ashton.”