Page 87 of Tangled Desires

Xavier laughs, shaking his head. “Fast track to adulting, mate.”

Brad steps forward, pulling me into a quick, solid hug. “I’m proud of you,” he mutters. The word lands hard.Proud. It’s not something I hear often—if ever. It scrapes at something raw, something buried deep under years of keeping it together on my own. It feels strange. Good, but strange.

When he steps back, Xavier points at him. “Bloke doesn’t go hugging just anyone.”

Brad shrugs, glancing at Amelia across the yard, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “Yeah, well. Things change.”

“First step, bro. Big one. Keep going. You’ve got this,” Xavier says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We lift our beers, clink them together. The moment stretches, no need for words. Just quiet understanding.

The music drifts softly, Luke Combs twanging in the background. I walk inside, the cool air from the fridge brushing against my face as I reach for a beer. The cap hisses, releasing a sharp breath as I twist it off. Headlights sweep across thedriveway, cutting through the dark—parked too far down for Joe. I step out, heart pounding before my mind can make sense of it.

Gary Walters. My father. In the flesh. Leaning on his car door, swaying. Wasted. Same greasy smirk, same wreckage trailing behind him. My jaw clenches, breath coming sharp. My feet are already moving, fast and certain.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

He blinks, slow and sloppy. “Came to say hi... Mikey’s birthday, ain’t it?”

A bitter laugh scrapes up my throat. “Are you serious? Fuck off.” No need to ask how he found us. He always shows up when things are just starting to level out, like a bad habit you thought you kicked. “What do you really want? And don’t bother with the happy family crap.”

His chuckle crawls under my skin. “Look, I’m... desperate. Need money. Owe a lot to some big guys.”

The anger simmers, burning low and steady. I study him—graying hair, lines etched deep into his face. His eyes are the same shade as mine, but there’s nothing behind them. Hollow. “You’re unbelievable.” My fists clench, tight enough to hurt. “You got yourself into this. You can get yourself out. I’m not helping you.”

Gary lurches forward, hand outstretched like that’s supposed to mean something. “Harrison, c’mon. Just a little bit. You’ve got money. Help me out, mate.”

“Help you?” A bitter laugh escapes. “Over my dead body.” The door creaks behind me, and footsteps crunch on the gravel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Michael grits.

“Mikey boy. Just came to say happy birthday.”

“Don’t call me that,” Michael steps forward. “You’re not welcome here.”

Gary shifts, his face twitching. “You don’t get it. I’m desperate. If I don’t pay these guys, I’m dead.”

“Then you’d better start running, because the only thing you’re getting from me is the door,” I mutter. Gary’s gaze flickers, searching, but there’s nothing left for him here. Not anymore.

Brad moves beside me, eyes sharp. “What group?”

“Some guys out of Sydney. They’ve got this crest... a snake, coiled up. Crown, flames—maybe a sword? Big deal, y’know?”

A chill tightens everything inside. That symbol. I’ve seen it before—years ago. They’re bad fucking news. “You’re done,” I growl. “Get off my property.”

Gary wobbles but doesn’t back down. “Harrison, please! I know you’ve got something.”

“Even if I did, you wouldn’t see a cent.”

Brad’s voice is steel. “You’ve been told. Leave.”

“And who the hell are you?”

Brad pulls out his badge. Flash. No words needed.

“Just having a chat with my sons.” Gary flinches, hands up.

Michael’s words slice through. “We’re not your sons. Get that out of your mouth.”

The door creaks open behind us. Imogen’s voice filling his ears. “Harrison, what’s going on?”