Page 16 of The Wayward Sons & The Vampires of Fortune (The Wayward Sons #4)

D amn it . The man was good at cooking. I wanted to be mad about that but the food was so good that it was impossible. Though, I wasn’t used to homemade food either. We didn’t do a lot of that ever.

“I’ll take it that you like it.” Sam chuckled from across the table.

“Shut up,” I muttered through a mouthful of food.

Did I feel guilty for sitting around and letting my ex-boyfriend feed me?

A little bit. But his agent friend—a weird fucking statement—had been able to convince the local police to put Ryder in an interrogation room rather than a cell.

Sure, he was shackled to a goddamn table, but he was in the middle of the building without being stuck with cellmates.

Watching him physically relax a little on a new video feed helped ease my anxiety.

It didn’t solve the situation, but we were headed in the right direction.

“It’s been a while since I had anythin’ that wasn’t bought from a place. ”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine you’re cooking on the road,” he said. “Why didn’t you ever settle down? Not saying you had to stay in Texas—”

“Fuck that,” I grumbled. Texas was the last place I’d ever stay. No, if Ryder and I did ever settle down, it’d be somewhere on the coast. Someplace small and ours. Somewhere far away from fucking Texas.

“—but you could have found somewhere new,” he finished, ignoring me.

“And be like you?” I shot back. My gaze flicked to the wedding ring on his finger. Yeah, I’d noticed it. I’d been too riled up to say shit about it sooner. “Is your wife good with you bein’ here?”

I knew I was assuming a lot by saying wife. He could’ve married a guy for all I knew. It wasn’t like I cared one way or another.

“She would’ve had a lot to say about it,” Sam replied quietly. I noticed the past tense real quick. “I’m widowed.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s been nineteen years, Gray. You don’t know a damn thing about my life.”

“True. I’m still sorry.” And then, for some reason I’d never be able to explain, I asked a genuine question that opened a door between us. Maybe it was how the sadness in his expression inexplicably did something to my heart, or maybe I was just a moron. Who knew? “What was she like?”

“She was incredible,” Sam told me after a long moment. “Smart, talented, kind… out of my league.”

“Hunter?” I asked.

“And a witch.”

“That’s a hell of a combination.”

“She was a hell of a woman,” he replied. “Demons won in the end. Both her and my best friend.”

“I’m sorry.” What else could I say? There wasn’t a hell of a lot anyone could say to something like that.

“Enough about me,” Sam said, effectively ending his side of the conversation. Couldn’t blame him. I’d do the same if I were him and Ryder was the topic of conversation like that. I damn near shuddered. I didn’t even want to entertain that thought. “What have you been up to for nineteen years?”

“Went to jail,” I began, smirking slightly. Was I the asshole for saying it all over again? Yup. Didn’t fucking care. “Got out, got my car, and hit the road. Nowadays, we just do the demon huntin’ thing. Make the most of life and all that shit. It’s simple, but it’s a good life.”

“And you’re happy?” he asked.

“Damn straight I am,” I replied.

“Good.”

An awkward silence settled between us. Small talk would only get us so far. There was so much crap between us, and stupid conversations weren’t going to mask that.

“Did you ever think about me?” I asked, forcing the uncomfortable conversation. Maybe it was masochistic to ask the question, but I had to. I couldn’t be stuck for days with him if we didn’t clear up some shit first. “After I went to jail for you?”

“Honestly?” He cocked an eyebrow—a gesture that was far too attractive on him. It always had been. Damn man. “I didn’t at first. I kind of had my head so far up my own ass resisting rehab that I didn’t think twice about half the shit I’d done.”

Rehab, right . Sam was an addict with narcotics being his vice. His need for drugs had gotten us in a lot of trouble as kids.

“Includin’ me.”

“Including you,” he said softly. “After I got my head on straight, though, I did. Kind of hard not to.”

“Did it work?”

“Did what work?”

“Rehab, you fuckin’ moron.” I resisted rolling my eyes. “What the hell else would I be askin’ about?”

“Not the first two times,” he admitted. “The third time was the proverbial charm. I’ve been clean for years.”

“That’s good,” I replied, and I meant that.

“I almost visited you once,” he told me.

“I made it as far as the prison parking lot before I convinced myself it was a bad idea—that nothing good could come from me visiting. And by the time you were released, I was already out of Texas. I went to Arizona for college. After that… well, I don’t think there was any good that could come from me trying to look you up. ”

“And now?” I asked. “You think any good is goin’ to come from you and me doin’ this whole team up thing?”

I fucking hated team ups. They led to trouble every damn time. The tot squad was a damn good example—though, free beer and a new gun guy had been a nice perk of that shit.

“Probably not,” Sam said with a shrug. “Vampires, you, me, a lifetime of animosity? Yeah, it’s going to be great.”

“Maybe a little less animosity.” I used my fingers in a gesture to support my statement. “Only a little though.”

Or maybe a little more than a little. That was the problem with me: I didn’t stay mad that long at anyone anymore. Not unless it came to Ryder. Hurt my baby and I’d raise hell. Help him and you’d be on my good side.

That included Sam.

And if I took a raw moment to be honest with myself, there was no Ryder in my life without Sam making the choices he did.