“Guess it’s not a long story after all.” I laugh as I head into the kitchen, grab a roll of paper towels, and toss them to Aiden.
He catches them with ease and looks back at the mess. “Dammit. Please tell me he didn’t finish all of my Froot Loops!”
I laugh as we kneel down and wipe off the couch, which, thankfully, is leather.
“We can always go get you some more,” I tell him, because between the mess on the floor and on the couch, it’s looking like Chase dumped the whole box.
We clean up the mess pretty quickly and manage to get the couch to stop being sticky, but right as we’re going to make some breakfast as a reward, the doorbell rings.
“You keep working on those eggs, I’ll get it,” I tell Aiden as my stomach growls in protest.
The living room, kitchen, and small, front foyer is all in one big, open-concept area. When I look through the peephole, Aiden sees me step back in confusion.
“Who is it?” he asks, walking over to me.
There are three men in suits standing on the porch; the one in the middle is instantly recognizable.
“It’s the mayor. What should we do?” I look at Aiden helplessly.
How did the mayor find us? Is he here to arrest Aiden? He wouldn’t have come personally to arrest him, right?
There’s another persistent knock on the door, and I look through the peephole again before Aiden has the chance to open the door. The two men with the mayor definitely look more like bodyguards than cops, which calms me down a bit. But still.
“Do you think he knows who you are?” I whisper to Aiden.
“Only one way to find out,” he says, glancing at the door I’m standing in front of.
“Oh, sorry,” I say sheepishly.
Aiden’s the one who could get in trouble but I’m the one worried about it; he looks completely unfazed. I open the door and am met with three blank but intimidating faces.
“It’s about time,” Mayor Andrew Kessler comments, glancing into the house behind me.
Well, then.
“Can I help you?” I ask him, slightly annoyed but still keeping my polite voice in check.
“Yes, actually. I’d like to speak with my son.”
“Then you have the wrong house.” Aiden steps out from behind me, not that I was doing much to cover him in the first place. Andrew smiles a smile that I can automatically tell isn’t genuine.
“Aiden. Look at you. You’ve grown into quite the young man.”
My eyes narrow at the mayor, and I can’t see Aiden’s reaction, but I’m sure it’s similar to mine.
“What are you doing here?” Aiden asks in a tone that sends chills down my spine; it’s the same one he uses on people who aren’t me.
Aiden’s an inch or two taller than his father. Andrew isn’t out of shape in the least bit, with broad shoulders and a hint of some muscle, but Aiden definitely has more muscle on him with all the time he dedicates to working out. But their similar physiques is where the comparison ends. Aiden would never abandon his family.
“I wanted to talk,” Andrew states, sounding much too calm for someone who’s talking to the son he deserted years ago. “Are you going to invite me in or keep us standing out here like strangers?”
Aiden lets out a quick, humorless chuckle. “The second one.”
He starts to close the door but Andrew quickly slams his hand onto it, stopping it from closing.
“I think it’s best if we have a quick chat,” he asserts, pushing the door open with authority and walking in, the two men who are with him following suit.
Aiden’s facial expression doesn’t change but his hand clenches into a fist and the muscle in his jaw twitches.