I’d be lying if I said life was easy, because taking over numerous businesses, properties, employees, and essentially stepping into the expensive wingtips of the powerful Luciano Bane has been a huge fucking challenge, but along with it, a sense of security to go with that risk.
And I mean literally, I have a security detail now that pretty much shadows my every move. Claire has one, too, as do Josey and Miller, and even Rosie. Basically, every vital member of Luciano’s legacy. The wrath of Franklin didn’t stop when he did, because his death caused a series of events to take place, throwing his entire organization into utter chaos and sending various threats our way. For the most part, it’s been stabilized, at least enough that we could finally break away and visit someone who played such a huge role in shaping me into the man I am today.
“Here.” Bram reaches for the nearby pot of coffee. He points toward the booth in the corner, the one me and Claire pretty much claimed as our own during our time here. “Go sit.” He shoves us back through the way we came and motions for the waitress who greeted us. “Three cups, a shaker of cinnamon, and a half dozen blueberry old-fashioneds.”
Claire and I slide in next to each other, our backs against the wall so we can scope out the diner, a habit that has only continued to intensify with each passing day.
Bram joins us a second later, the petite waitress on his heels.
He waits for her to finish setting the mugs on the table to speak. Bram sighs. “I can’t believe it.”
Claire puts a dash of cinnamon in both of our coffees before stirring them. She nudges the one toward me and looks at the bright-eyed man across from her. “We missed you, Bram.”
“The feeling is mutual.” He fidgets with his spoon. “I was so damn worried about you two.” His serious gaze cuts right through me.
I fucking hated leaving him the way I did. He had done so much for me, and I thanked him by disappearing into thin air, barely holding onto my life. I can only imagine the endless possibilities that ran through his mind and the countless times he must have thought the worst had happened.
I became a ghost, one that was hiding from a man that tried to kill me. I had given Bram close to nothing to hang on to, other than the weak possibility that if I was ever able, I would reach out to let him know I was okay. I couldn’t risk contacting him after I had left, because there was no telling the lengths Franklin had gone through to keep tabs on me. I needed Franklin to assume that all Bram was to me was the dude who owned the coffee shop I liked to frequent. If he knew anything else, he would use it against me, just like he did with Claire, and with Rosie.
I couldn’t protect Bram from two thousand miles away, so I did what I had to do to keep him in the dark. The less he knew, the better.
I reach across the table, resting my hand on his and forcing his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
Bram’s eyes glisten and he lets out a breath of air. “You have nothing to apologize for. I understand.”
A father’s love is unconditional, and I may have lost the man who brought me into this world, but the man sitting in front of me is more of a dad than I ever deserved.
The waitress sets a plate full of donuts on the table, pulling us out of our bittersweet moment. “Can I get you anything else?” She seems to notice all too late that she interrupted something. “Or I can come back?”
Bram wipes at his eye and forces a smile. “What do you say? You two kids hungry?”
Claire sets down her cup. “I could go for a stack of blue and a side of B.”
Bram points his finger at me. “How about you?”
“Sure,” I grin. “For old times’ sake.”
“Three orders, please,” Bram tells the girl.
I take a long sip of my coffee, savoring the perfect combo of bitter and bold with a hint of spice. “Still the best cup of joe around.”
And it’s the truth. Even being part-owner of a café, our roast will never compare. There’s just something about being at home that makes things that much better.
* * *
“One more stop, then we can get going,” I tell Claire.
Our time out west is drawing to a close. We only had a limited window, but we had to make the most of it. Visiting Bram was a given, something that was well overdue, but the last thing I have planned is a bit of a secret.
“We’re going to miss our flight,” Claire whines.
I tilt my head at her. “It’s a private jet, it can wait.”
Claire scratches at the blindfold around her eyes, and for a second, I think she’s trying to look.
“No peeking,” I remind her as I pull over and park our West Coast car.
I jump out and open her door, grabbing her hand and guiding her blindly out. I punch the code into the gate, watching the light illuminate green, granting us entry.