Page 35 of This Blood That Breaks Us (This Blood That Binds Us, #3)

Twenty-Nine

Zach

“Can you give me the day, sir?” Henderson asked me while he rummaged through some papers. He was in charge of facilitating shipping for a client. From what I could tell, his special talent was managing our clients. He was a glorified personal assistant with a knack for dealing with a lot of different types of people. I wondered if that’s what The Family saw in him when they recruited him. It explained his ever-changing personality. With his friends and peers, he was an annoying nuisance, but with the higher-ups alone, he was a golden boy, and the longer I spent with him, the more of a kiss-ass he became.

“How the fuck would I know?”

“They still didn’t give you a phone, sir?”

“You get a phone and I don’t?”

“It’s over there. Can you check it?”

We were in one of our many random-colored rooms. This one was themed in purple, and the cushion armchair I was sitting in was lush and, no doubt, expensive. A large window overlooked the back garden and maze. I groaned as I picked up his phone from the table. I was supposed to be helping Henderson. Ezra had given me instructions to get familiar with Henderson and his work, and learn all the clients’ names by heart, but upon Ezra’s absence, I instructed Henderson to do his work without talking while I poured myself a drink. Will would be pissed when I told him I’d spent the day drinking while he and Thane got stuck with window cleaning duty.

When I saw the date, my stomach seized.

“March sixth,” I choked out. Presley’s birthday.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and left me staring out the window.

I’d never missed a birthday. My heart throbbed in my ears, and I sat down to shake myself of the sudden disappointment. Christmas was one thing, but it was already the beginning of March. We’d been there almost three months. It felt like a lifetime. I didn’t feel like the same person. Yet, I was.

I wasn’t supposed to care about shit like that. Luke was the real planner and mastermind behind parties. But every year, I would take Presley out just him and me, and we’d do the wildest shit. For his eighteenth, we broke into one of those indoor play areas and stayed the night. Our little secret. The year before that, we’d climbed the water tower and drank till sunrise.

It hurt more than I ever imagined it would.

I composed myself and swallowed the lump in my throat. There was a first for everything. The first year would hurt like a bitch. Noted.

I went to find Luke and leave Henderson to his boring job. It didn’t take long to find him, because he was already trying to find me. We met in the hallway when he almost barreled into me.

“Are you okay?” Luke said.

He obviously didn’t know the day, or I’d have felt his pain on top of my own, and he’d hate to hear how long we’d been in Ireland. I wished I could time travel to a few minutes before I knew.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He wiggled a big bushy brow at me. “You’re lying.”

“A little, yeah. But don’t worry about it. Wanna go beat the shit out of each other for fun?”

“Sure.”

I was relieved. The only thing fun to do was fight.