Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

"Riders on the Storm"

Chapter Thirteen: Old Habits, New Days

Edward POV

At the club—it seems like we're always at the fucking club—I sat at a table with my brother and Aro while I ate a Chicken Parmesan hero. They were watching the girls, and I enjoyed my sandwich.

As I reached for my scotch to wash it all down, my gaze landed on Georgie.

Maybe I should jump or scream or be shocked in some way.

Because, my son either has blatant disregard for the things I say, or I was looking at a fucking ghost.

"Skip." He smiled, coming over to put his hand out.

My hands were full. "Sit." I kicked a chair out for him.

Before his ass even touched the seat, Sonny came walking out of the office. He caught my stare, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

Maybe I should have given the order to Dame.

"What can I do for you?" Georgie asked.

I stared at Sonny, who was fast to go behind the bar. "How are things? My son treating you well?" Sonny hasn't been a capo for that long, a little under two years now, and I'm always asking his guys how things are going.

Georgie nodded.

"Whoa!" Aro exclaimed, just as shocked as I was. "I'm surprised to see you—Ay, get this boy a drink." My friend was jovial, being nice to the man whose days were numbered.

Georgie smiled wide, getting to sit at the cool kids' table.

I put my food down and then grabbed a napkin to wipe my mouth. "Lemme talk to you," I spoke to Georgie.

He furrowed his brow. "Everything okay?"

I grinned down to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. "Yeah…I gotta job for ya—need you to help me out with something. Sonny, too."

"Cool."

Turning back to the rest of them, I pointed to my food. "If you motherfuckers touch my shit…" I needed to make sure those gavones—Carlisle and Aro, who said they were not hungry—didn't eat my food.

Aro pretended he was going for it, and my hand twitched to my nine. "Look at you...over food," he laughed.

"Fuck you." When I left the table, I knew Georgie was following, and I didn't bother seeking Sonny out.

He entered the office before me. "Have a seat," I said, slowly turning to shut and lock the door.

Georgie did as I said, sighing and leaning his hands on his thighs, facing the desk. "It's truly an honor, sir."

I chuckled, reaching for my waist. "It's nothing big, really . . . I'm sure you've heard about Joe."

He nodded, half-turning back to me, while I cocked the mag back and wondered how he knew about that shit. "Fuck!" His eyes went wide, seeing my nine.

Sadly, he didn't have another second to react or piss his pants. The shot rang loudly through the air. Blood splattered, Georgie letting out a grunt, before he fell forward and out of the chair.

My head tilted to the side as I stared at him and put my nine back into my waist—face down, blood pooling around his head, and there was some brain matter on the ground, too. Then I sighed, going into the desk for a pair of gloves.

After putting them on, I searched his pockets. He only had three hundred bucks on him, and I took his pinky ring, too.

It's not like he'll need it.

Then I got busy rubbing some hand sanitizer into my palms.

Knowing Sonny also has a key, I locked the office up behind myself—making sure no one got to see my son's surprise before he did. He's cleaning that shit up.

Nothing was amiss when I left. The music was still mad loud, walls pumping with the force of the beats—the techno garbage Sonny has them play.

Seeing Georgie really fucked with my mood. Today, all this week, I've been happy—I'm about to be a grandpa. But how did Sonny hide Georgie from me for nearly a week?

It's bad enough my buddy Joe thinks I sent Joe Jr. and David—his sons—out to California to settle some shit, while I also said I wanted to give Joe Jr. and Kylie some space. He's not as close to his kids as one might think. If he doesn't see them around, he just assumes they're okay—keeping to themselves. I was running out of time as far as Joe Sr. and his oldest son Chris were concerned—that little fucker asks too many questions. I had a feeling he knew his brothers were dead.

When I approached the table, Caius was there, and he was eyeing my dinner. "Don't even think about it," I said.

Caius put his hands up. "It's not like I have a wife to cook for me…"

"Don't pull the widower card." I pointed. "That was good for six months max. You hungry? Fuckin' order something." I bit into my sandwich. We always gotta hear about his dead wife, and that shit is depressing as fuck; meanwhile, he's bumping different chicks off every night. Caius and Nunzio brag. Nunz is divorced, or he was never married, and only said they were. I don't remember, but her name was hard to forget. Dana was the biggest cooz walking around this joint twenty years ago. And now I hear the apple didn't fall too far from the tree. But when does it ever? All I know is Nunzio mouthed off to Sonny, and my son mentioned something about giving Bianca a job here. It was ugly, but Caius broke it up. "Have one your chicks cook for you. Your daughter don't cook?" I think Stephanie is staying with him these days.

He smirked, giving me a look. "That princess? Are you kidding? I can't fucking wait until she gets married." He sipped from my drink, and that was okay. I snapped my fingers for the waitress' attention, and she knew to bring another round. "She's going to be thirty-three . . ." he sighed, like it was the end of the world. "I hoped, you know, since she doesn't look thirty-three . . . maybe she'd hit it off with Sonny. I'm happy those kids could make it work, though, as fucked as the situation is." He referred to Katie and my son.

"Why you here and not at Twilight?" I asked, and then I was pushed. The chick grinding into Aro hit me with her elbow. "Watch it." I pushed back, 'cause I'm a rude fuck like that. "Go to the private room." On second glance, Shorty looked way too young to be dancing here. "Who's this?"

Aro kissed her hand, slipping a bill into her palm as she left his lap. "This is Layla."

I raised a brow, knowing that's the chick who had it rough—was lumped up a while back. "How you doin', hon?"

She clammed up as soon as I spoke. "Um—I'm all right."

"My son treating you okay?"

"Of-of course." She nodded. "How are you, Mr. Cullen?"

I leaned back, reaching into my pocket.

"You want a dance?" She lifted her leg to straddle me.

I put my hand up, giving her the money I stole from Georgie.

"What's this for?" She looked to Aro.

"For your time," I said. "Thank you for chatting—you're quite the conversationalist."

"Thank you?" It sounded like a question.

I winked, going back to my food.

She ran along while Aro stared after her. "She ain't the best dancer—fuck, she's got the smallest tits here."

I honestly didn't care. "So?"

He leaned into my ear. "Big tips are with the lap dances. She'll only dance on stage since . . . but she trusts me, dances for me, and then I'm two bills short—most I ever spent on a dance."

I patted his back. "That's nice of you—I'm sure Saint Peter will remember that."

"I do what I can," he said, and we both looked over to Carlisle who was talking to Misty. They were having a discussion about something, her sitting across from him, nodding her head with her legs crossed. "She needed legal advice." Aro jerked a thumb. "Something about a DUI."

I nodded, looking up at Sonny who appeared in front of me. "I left something in your office." I had a mouthful.

He looked confused. "You—"

As I swallowed, I reached for my drink. "Go look . . . it's not your birthday, but . . . Surprise!" I sipped from the glass, smiling around the rim.

He gnashed his teeth together. "Can I speak with you?" He gazed at my table companions. "Privately?"

I grinned at that smart-ass motherfucker. "Sure, I'll bite."

He stomped off to the back, and I followed after him.

Sonny paused for a brief moment, staring down to the floor, but he recovered quickly to hold his forehead.

I closed the door. "That should have been taken care of last week. Whatta ya got, baby brain?" I think there was a period of time after Sonny was born where I'd slowed down—had more compassion, although I think that lasted a week at best.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might have had a reason?" He whipped around to face me.

My smile stayed in place as I rested my ass on the desk. "I told you last Sunday, and yet—here we are, five days later, and that fucker—" I kicked Georgie's foot, "was still breathing."

He nodded. "I had a reason."

"Then you should have conferred with me five days ago." I walked toward the door. "Get rid of it."

"When I worked it all out, I was going to call a sit-down."

I slowly turned back to him—I did say I'd bite. "And what was this plan? Your reason to keep him alive?"

He had his hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling. Sonny was pissed. "I was going to have Georgie take care of Joe and Chris—figure out a way to take out the wife, too—since now we have all these bodies piling up. Then, I was going to take care of Georgie myself."

I pursed my lips. "Go after them separately, pick 'em off one by one. Suffocate, put 'em all in a car, and then light it up?"

He raised a brow. "I hadn't thought of that."

I put my hand out, gesturing—metaphorically giving him the idea. "There you go . . . make it happen. No accelerants. Poke a hole in the gas tank, or just make them disappear."

"The wife has to go—Marissa?" he asked, looking glum. "There's no way around it?"

I tapped my chin. "If you, your brother, and me—if we all disappeared, do you think your mother would stop looking for us, asking questions?"

He shook his head.

I pointed to my temple. "Think!"

"My mind's always on money."

"You need to start learning how to cover your ass," I said. "Money's great, but it won't keep you outta the can—no matter how much you have. You feel me? Knowledge is power. The more people know, the more attention you get, the more power they have over you. The more flags raised, questions asked—the same result. C.Y.A: Cover. Your. Ass."

He shook his head again. "This is all Dame's fault. He didn't have to ice Joe—"

I sighed. "He did the right thing…was put in a situation—"

"He was just waiting for an opportunity!" Sonny shouted. "He was calculating, knew Joe'd seek Kylie out—just waiting for the chance, and yet you praise him..."

"I don't praise anyone," I whispered. "Maybe your mother's ass . . . Why? You jealous?" I asked, cocking a brow. "You didn't get to do it."

Sonny got quiet.

"You need me to praise you?" I asked.

He snorted, looking up to the ceiling for answers again.

I stepped closer to him. "You think you're tough shit—you and your brother. Raise your voice to me again, and I'll knock you the fuck down. You hear me, Santino?" I grasped his chin, making him face me. "You're old enough. You know how it works. I shouldn't have to be telling you any of this shit." I let go, backing off and away. "Wise up."

With Sonny, I only feed him compliments when they're truly warranted. If I praise him all the time, he'll get cocky. His head'll get big, and that's when mistakes are made—thinking you're above it all.

I'm hard on him because I have to be—because this will all be his one day.

And he needs to learn.

I may act like a prick, but I'm proud of both my boys equally and for different reasons. They're always in competition with each other, and I don't know why. Maybe I seem nicer to Damion, but that's only because of his sensitive nature, and that's not really a good thing. It sucks.

The more I'm myself around Damion, the more he backs away, and I can't make heads or tails of that shit either.

Still, I hope one day he'll know me.

Bella says he fears me, always has and always will; however, I've never given Damion a reason to fear me.

Sonny, on the other hand, fuck yeah. He's seen me in action, and we've duked it out before over some stupid shit.

"But I have ideas . . . some. Little by little, I mean, Dad. I dig the way things are running. But there are better, legal ways of doing business…this is all so old school."

I widened my arms. "Old school? It's old and is the way we do things now, because it works. If it didn't, we'd do things differently."

He laughed. "That's not even an answer. I'm telling you. I can make you just as much money—maybe more if we went legit."

"Katie's fucking with your head." I shook mine.

"Can we just sit down? Lemme run ideas by you."

"Look…" I held my lips, wondering how to word this properly. "When I'm dead, whoever can do it their way. I'm here now. I'm running shit the way I see fit. Are the Feds knocking on your door?"

He didn't reply.

"Are they?"

"Not lately," he said.

"Not ever." I sucked my teeth. "They've never fucking knocked on your shit." Ever since he joined Aro's crew, I've been double- and triple-checking everything he's ever done—made sure he stayed out of trouble. "I won't always be around, okay? Which means, you need to cover your ass—"

"But if I didn't need to cover—"

"Cover your ass, and then you can do what the fuck you want." I wiped my hands clean. "You make money with the brokerage. You get tribute from your guys. You draw a salary here as manager, and you're studying for the bar—your uncle will set you up with a nice office. You'll be practicing law . . . You've made some money through the years, too. Sonny, you have no room to complain. I made it so people do for you. People bend and break laws, so you don't have to. Me? I used to get a kick out of it. But that's what makes me, me, and you—you." I patted his shoulder, and eventually put my arm around him. "You're good at what you do . . . what you're doing now."

"Thanks."

"I'm no genius—never claimed to be. But how—please enlighten me. Tell me how paying tribute, money laundering, and racketeering can be legalized? You tell me." I leaned my head to his.

He moved away from me. "Why should I waste my breath?"

I shrugged. "Try me." When he didn't elaborate, I stepped over Georgie and to the door. "Get him outta here before he starts to smell." But I turned back to him. "You're not gonna thank me? Surely you didn't wanna clip your buddy."

"Thanks," he whispered.

"You're welcome . . . and come by the house this week. Katie moves in and we don't see either one of youse."

"Katie . . . She loves Mom, gets along great with her, but…in limited capacity?" He scrunched his nose. "She wants to stay as far away from all of this as possible."

I smiled. "That's a pipe dream and a half. Good luck with that . . . But it's fucking with your mother's head. Tell Katie to stop by."

"All I can do is ask . . . It's—" His face fell. "I don't know."

"Baby high wore off?" I asked, my tone a bit softer, and that's how quickly I can make the transition now. It used to take longer. "It's only been a week. Raul still…heckling youse?"

"No, he backed off . . . and the baby…that's—that's just—I can't even describe that. I'm excited for the baby. But . . . Katie wants me to essentially change everything about myself—the company I keep, my job, my vocabulary—every-fucking-thing. You know how important family is to me, and she wants to keep us—our family: Katie, the baby, and me—away from you guys, my family?" He looked to the ceiling. "It's hers, too. She's said—she wants Aro to be a grandfather, but not around all the time? She's scared shitless because of the bullshit her mother filled her head with; meanwhile, that bitch has been at my crib twice this week. Turning into Mom, which I don't think is a bad thing at all…it's a real fear of hers, getting tangled in shit. It's fear itself because she don't know. She only knows what her mother told her—"

"And you can't say shit until youse get married."

"No matter what I tell her . . ." He chuckled. "It's like I'm fourteen again—being so pleasing, trying my hardest to impress her. I didn't think it'd be like this."

I nodded. "You thought everything would be perfect—it'd all fall into place?"

"Katie's the one. I'm willing to make sacrifices. It's when she's not willing to meet me halfway . . . Fuck, we fight constantly. This—" he put his hands out, "is my respite—Eclipse. It's been a week, and it feels like ten fucking years."

No matter how he felt about it, I walked over and hugged him tightly. "First and foremost, remember that she's pregnant. I'm not making excuses, but their feelings tend to be amplified—the hormones and bullshit." I rubbed his back, leaning away. "And it has only been a week."

Aro has always been so proud of his daughter—being independent. All her life, she never wanted or asked for anything from her father. That girl worked for everything she ever gained. Katie and Aro have a decent relationship. They meet for dinners a couple of times a month. They love each other and have that basic father/daughter relationship.

Honestly, I couldn't imagine not being in Kylie's business all the time. It'd drive me insane not knowing what she's up to. I know when she leaves—when she goes to Texas—I'll probably call her every other day.

Because twice a day, every day, would get on her nerves.

I know it drives Damion bananas, even if the kid only lets me talk.

And how many ways can you bitch about the weather?

Surprisingly, all three of them are different with Bella. She can call, show up whenever she wants, and it's gravy. Me? Forget about it. Dad's being a nosy prick. Yet, I can chill with Sonny like this, and I think our relationship is better than . . . I guess what a normal father and son have.

"You have to give it time," I said. "You think everything was sunshine and roses with your mother and me at first?" I whistled. "I'm still surprised we survived our first years of marriage, and you came so fast . . . Don't get me wrong; we wanted ya real bad. We tried and tried." Thinking back, I laughed. "But…we were impatient. We knew we could have waited, that we had years ahead of us. Everything was just rush, rush, rush."

"Lemme guess . . . everyone else was having babies."

"Basically." I snorted. "But I think your mother and I were just—we were insane. I think we wanted to get married, have babies, just so we'd be tied together. That make sense?"

He nodded, grinning. "It's like a fairy tale."

"Ha!" I pushed him playfully. "You have no idea how many times we could have killed each other . . . We weren't together long at all. We got married after six weeks of fucking, and then we got pregnant with you after six months of marriage. The fast track."

"Regrets?" he asked.

I shook my head no.

"No…I get the fighting—that it's not as serious as it feels sometimes." He cracked a grin. "And making up? That's shit's awesome." He looked away, tongue-in-cheek.

"Oh . . . pregnant and all . . . the sex is still…?" I punched the air.

He laughed out loud, his face lighting up. "It's—it's actually a lot of fun, trying to get in there—find a groove. She's still sexy as hell, though—I'll tell you that. She's got my kid in there. How fuckin' cool is that?"

"It's really fucking cool," I admitted.

We were both in hysterics, and I held my stomach. "I love you, kid."

"I love you, too."

I sighed, my eyes trailing down to Georgie. "I'm gonna send Caius in. You tell him about Joe—staging the accident. Make it sound like he's in charge." I rolled my eyes.

"Why?" He made a face.

"'Cause…sometimes you gotta throw the old dogs a bone. He thinks you're in charge—over him, he might feel a certain way. Conspire with him; don't order. Like I said, make it sound like it's his idea. I'll give him my blessing." I lightly smacked Sonny's cheek. "It'll be all right. You and Katie . . . you'll find your groove soon enough. And if you don't? You don't. What can I say? Maybe you guys have a physical thing—maybe you grew apart."

"True…what can I do? Just hope for the best." He shrugged, looking to his cell. "Last week, it was like the end of the world." He seemed withdrawn suddenly. "Dad, I—"

"What is it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "We have love. We have good times and bad times—and it's true. It's only been a week, and last Sunday . . . The thought of her raising our kid with Raul? I was livid. The thought of never having Katie, I was heartbroken. But what if it just doesn't work out? A part of me . . . I don't know. I think I can accept it—come to terms with it." He covered his face with his hands to scream. "What does it mean?"

"I can't tell you that," I whispered. "You have to figure out what you want. But son, if you're not happy, chances are she isn't either."

"We're still getting married—"

"Not if you feel this way. Marriage isn't something you fight for just because of kids. Youse are doing this backwards—" I didn't know what to say to help him. "You and Katie were so in love back in the day, right?" He nodded, and I continued. "Then start at the beginning, get to know each other again, and take it day by day. It'll either be better than before, or you'll realize it's never going to work. But don't get married until you're sure. That baby's yours either way. She won't keep your daughter away from you—not if I have anything to say about it."

"You're so right." He nodded.

"Your mother would kidnap your daughter." I chuckled.

"We'll stop by this week."

"Good," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow." I kissed his cheek.

/=/=/=/=/

Old habits die hard, and Aro gave me a lift home. Carlisle left when we did, and he was still on cloud nine—still high from his days away. He'd only come by to check in, say what's up. During the drive, my talk with Sonny grated on my mind. I wanted to confer with Aro about it, but it's none of his business.

"You talk to Katie lately—since she moved in with Sonny?"

He shook his head, continuing to drive. "She runs home to Daddy when something's wrong. Otherwise? I don't see her. You know . . . when she was little, she was my ally," he laughed. "Katie took care of AJ and Peto, always calmed me down when I'd come home—and I'd want to smack Lauren—but she always greeted me with a smile. I was like…her Superman, her daddy. Now? Now that I can't hide certain things from her. Ever since Lauren started filling her head with all this stuff—the truth, sorta . . ." he trailed off and stopped talking.

"What happened?"

Aro sighed. "Now I'm just the schmuck that got her moms knocked up, married, and tossed away. She changed after I married Lisa—thought I ran away to Hawaii, came back with a bride—thought I was going to replace the family I already had."

"No," I said.

"Yes . . . she told me. And no matter how many times I say that's not true, she believes what she wants." He shrugged. "Lau told her I was a liar . . . The boys? AJ turned into my ally—never wanted to go to his mom's, and I never made him. Lisa was more of a mother to Peto. Katie always fought with Lisa—always had to remind her that she wasn't Peto's mother. Lauren couldn't really be bothered until they were teens, able to care for themselves, and I'm the bad guy? But you know all this." He waved a hand, exiting the highway. "Maybe because they're women they stick together. I don't know. Katie loves me. She just has no interest in…actually knowing me."

I blew out a breath. "Dame doesn't seem like he wants to get to know me either."

Aro grinned. "Now there's a kid you gotta worry about."

I hit his arm. "Shut the fuck up."

"I'm just sayin' . . . I always thought Sonny would be your troublemaker. I give him a hard time, but he's a good kid."

"I know." I smiled. "And Sonny always had this huge chip on his shoulder when it came to me...when he was young. With Dame, my God." My heart filled with joy, and I felt close to tears. "When I got outta prison...the way that kid embraced me...Damion held onto this idea of me; meanwhile, he was a pipsqueak. He didn't remember me. Then I was the monster inspector, making sure his room was clear. He'd give me all these hugs and kisses just because I was Daddy, told me he loved me all the time. He'd never hurt a fly . . . When did it change?" I asked no one in particular. "If he was sick, if he had some type of mental disorder, he'd be distant...that way with everyone, but then I don't know. Bella can reach him, sort of. When she sits him down...he opens up, but only parts of himself."

"Can you think of anything you did differently? Like, between Sonny and Dame?"

"No." I rasped, my throat thick, staring out the window. "I got away with stuff when it came to Dame. He was too little when a lot of shit popped off. He never remembered, I don't think. Sonny had to grow up fast, and I'm not sure if Dame ever did. You know what I mean? Kylie...I don't know what she knows, but she's never ever seen anything..." I waved a hand.

"Well, Sonny's a lot like you in some ways, but he's more like Bella—has her heart. Damion . . . I don't know. That's all you, dude."

"And Kylie is just like her mother," I laughed, and I suddenly couldn't wait to get home. "She's got Nanny's flare, that temper, too."

He bobbed his head. "Katie's just like Lau, too—can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. You got two stubborn women, and I have two ignorant—well, one. Lauren calls me sometimes, but fuck her. I just can't. Lisa's always checking my phone, answering it, threatening to beat Lau's ass. It's funny . . . but I wonder what I ever saw in her."

"Her ass," I said. "Call a spade a spade."

"Word," he agreed. "But then that's what you saw in MC."

"Well, yeah—of course. Have you seen my wife's ass?" I teased.

"I ain't sayin' shit."

I grabbed his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "The four of us need to get together more often—not just you coming over for coffee."

He blew out a breath. "There's no beef. I just can't understand why Bella and Lisa can't be friends."

"I don't know either." And I honestly had no clue. When Bella decided to distance herself from Derek, the rule applied to Lisa and Carlotta, too. My wife is cordial and pleasant, but she's not as close to Lisa as she is with Alex, or even Elena out in Jersey. "We're family—regardless."

He gave me a look and then opened his loud mouth. "We're gonna be grandpas!"

I hooted and hollered like an ass as he turned down my street. "It's fucking insane, right?" My mindset was the same as Sonny's—about to be a father.

"I wanna know where the fuck the years went." He looked at himself in the rearview. "We still look good."

"I'm sayin'." I pushed my hair back but then a random thought popped into my head. "Who's Peto like?" Sadly, I don't think I know the kid anymore either. When they were in high school, he was always around. We never talked, though—not like I've chilled with AJ. Then again, Peto's a baby.

"You mean, Giovanni Andino? And don't let him hear you call him Peto."

"Fuck that. I called him Peto last week."

Aro laughed. "Right . . ." He got quiet for a minute, but then looked at me as soon as he parked the car. "He's a good kid, Skip. He loves Kylie—would fuckin' die and kill for her. Their love? Just how crazy they are about each other . . . Christ. It's adorable. Although they're young, I think they might make it." He crossed his fingers and showed them to me. "I miss that little fucker like crazy—always on the computer, always stealing my porn, using my razors, always eavesdropping. From the time he was fourteen, he was like my shadow. But I told him—I never had to tell AJ. He never gave a fuck about where my money came from, just that I had it," he laughed.

"I told Peto not to even fucking think about it. And . . . honestly? I don't think he's interested at all anymore—not since he and Kylie started getting serious. She filled his head with college shit—the life they could have. Before that, Peto wasn't interested in college—wanted to be a Marine if he couldn't join a crew. All of which surprised me when he left, and Kylie skipped university all together."

I hissed. "Fuck Joe. Bella was more upset over that shit—Kylie not going to college."

He patted my back. "Kylie and Peto? Those two are normal—we did good with them. The rest…?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah…we gotta keep working on it." Leaving the car, I peeped Vito sleeping in his. "I'll see you."

"Goodnight." Aro jerked his chin before he pulled away from the curb.

I went over to Vito's car. If it was anyone else, I'd bang on the window. Instead, I lightly knocked—Vito being one of the last old-old timers from my father's day to still be around. Having no idea what the fuck to do with him—since he wanted to stay active—I have him chill out here, be around for Kylie and Bella. But he's only to stay local. If my girls need to go someplace out of the ordinary, I beef up security.

"Hey, oh...Vito," I sang.

He hopped up, his newspaper falling.

"How was your night?"

He cleared his throat. "Neither one went anywhere . . . Your son's home."

"Damion?"

"The one with the hair." He pointed to his head.

I nodded. "Thanks." Tapping his door, I turned for my own.

It was just past midnight. Yet, for Bella, Kylie, and Damion to be home, the house was really quiet. Without a dog to greet me, I locked up after myself—going toward the downstairs den. I saw that the TV was on.

My daughter was sound asleep, about to drop a bowl of popcorn—mouth wide open and snoring. The image made me smile. "Hey…" My tone was hushed. But as my eyes went to Kylie, I saw something in my periphery.

Through the sliding doors, I saw something or someone run across the darkened yard.

Wary, I kept one eye on Kylie while I grabbed my nine and put my back against the wall—trying to see who was back there. Rapidly, I turned on the light. It illuminated the back and I pointed my heat.

Then I nearly dropped it—seeing the girl from down the block, but she hadn't seen me.

"What the fuck?" I put my gun away, opening the back door. "Can I help you?"

Maggie was in pajamas, hands clasped in front of her. "Is Damion home?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "It's late—go home."

Without another word, she ran.

I shook my head. "Gonna get herself shot—"

"Boo!"

I internally jumped, but it was Kylie who said that. "Hey."

"Was that Maggie again?" She tried to see around me. "Stalker bitch."

"Whoa . . . What kind of thing is that to say?" I asked, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "You don't talk like that."

She pointed. "But Daddy, that's what she is . . . and Damion is home."

"Why?" I walked over to the couch and had a seat.

She shrugged, picking her wedgie before joining me.

"Everything all right?" I thought it was funny, but with Kylie you can't goof about certain things or point them out. She's sensitive—just like her mother.

"I think I'm gaining weight. My thong is too tight—"

"Whoa!" I put both my hands up. "Why?"

"You asked." The couch dipped as she plopped next to me. "Daddy, I'm a sexual being and I wear things—"

I hit her with a pillow. "Get away from me with that—it's bullshit. Sexual my ass." Since Bella wasn't around, I could get away with saying that.

Kylie giggled but then her face fell. "I miss Gio." She pulled her t-shirt—that was three sizes too big—to cover her bent legs. "All my friends are gone…"

I yanked her into my side, and she sorta just keeled over—still in her shirt cocoon. "You want me to get Mom?" Lately, when she gets like this, Bella is the only one who can calm her down.

"No." She sniffled. "Tell me it'll be okay."

"It'll be okay."

"Thank you." She hugged me, and I wished all problems were as easily fixed. "Damion wouldn't even hang out with me." She was crying again. "Amelia was here—they came for dinner. It's all about Amelia."

"Hey, you have Mom."

"I think Mom's sick of looking at me," she cried harder. "She likes Amelia better, too."

"Stop. You know she doesn't." I shook her playfully. "Mom could never get sick of this face." I pinched her cheek. "Youse should go shopping—"

"Mom hates shopping, and she thinks I shop too much. Yet, she keeps talking about taking Katie shopping—stuff for the new baby. I'll go with them," she sighed, ". . . but I dunno. All I can do is sit on the couch and watch TV . . . I suck. Every day I say I'm gonna do things . . . and then I don't. I get up and go to the salon, but then I just hide in the break room and watch TV."

I hummed.

"Gio and I Skype all the time—"

"You what?" I shouted.

"Skype, Daddy. I said 'Skype'." She rushed out. "Jesus."

I shook my head, although it didn't sound like she said Skype the first time. "That's video chat, right?"

"Yeah." She leaned back into me. "What'd'ju think I said?"

"I have no idea—somethin' nasty. Something a little girl shouldn't be doing, nor telling her father about." But then I felt bad. "You can talk to me, though."

"I know." She giggled again. "When are you going to realize that I'm an adult?"

I totally chose to ignore that question. "What about homegirl—Maggie? She seems lonely, too."

"No way. It's bad enough with Amelia . . ." And I thought it was adorable, that even though it doesn't come from a romantic standpoint—thank God it doesn't; we have enough fucking problems—Kylie was jealous of someone occupying Dame's time.

"It's different with Sonny and Katie, kinda. I mean, Sonny still knows I exist," she whispered.

"And you're going to be an aunt soon." I poked her side. "You should hang out with Katie."

"I could," she whispered. "I bet they're all so in love it makes me cry," she sobbed.

"Stop crying!" I tried not to laugh. "You're fine—you're going to be fine, and when you go out to Texas? You'll be crying you miss your mother."

Kylie was silent—didn't say a word to rebut or agree, but I knew I was correct.

"Spend time with Mom and Katie—Call Katie, take them out to lunch, a spa day. You like planning day trips and shit."

"I do," she sighed.

"Then there you go." I kissed her hair. "Katie likes chillin' with you, and by default . . . you can get Katie and Mom together more often." It looked like two of my problems could solve themselves. "We can do things, too. I'll take you shopping. I'm sure you need new winter clothes." I didn't really know. But I knew while she was in school, Bella used to take her for new things all the time. "I love buying stuff for Mom, and you know what she likes better than me."

"Seriously?" Her eyes lit up. "Like…you'll pay for it all?"

I raised a brow. "Within limits." And I had no idea why she was so surprised. I pay for it all already. Kylie doesn't even draw a salary from the salon. Bella takes care of the books, and we take care of everything Kylie needs—including cash. She gets an allowance, which has been very generous since she started working at Bay Ridge Tan. Bella changed the name from Isle Esme years ago. The current arrangement works out. In a few months, we'll have to figure out who'll run it again—same with me with Eclipse, once or if Sonny leaves.

"Oh." She deflated. "Can I get a car?"

"You don't even have a license—"

"You can take me driving—lessons. When I get to Texas, I mean, Gio says you gotta drive everywhere. Nobody knows me—who we are there. I'd be safe, although the campus is humongous. Gio says he hardly has to leave, but having a car comes in handy."

I nodded. "We'll work on it. Texas is still months away." I thank God for that, too.

"I, um, I heard Damion talking." She leaned away to wipe her eyes. "Amelia brought it up . . . Damion said he wasn't allowed to go to Midnight Sun?"

"That's right," I said, "although . . . if he wanted to take Amelia, and only chill with Amelia . . . I might be okay with it." I was happy for Damion. He seemed to hit it off with Luke's daughter, and even more so with Luke. That kind of shocked me, for Luke to be welcoming when his daughter was coming home with a mark on her neck. I thought for sure Damion was going to cross the Goethals Bridge and never be heard from again. At least, that's what would happen if someone did that shit to Kylie. It was obvious Dame and Amelia fucked that night—and I was surprised she'd give it up that quick.

They were both so happy, had weird faces, and they kept sneaking away to make out until they just left that Sunday. Nevertheless, Luke couldn't be happier. Even he's planning a mental wedding already. He knows Sonny, but he was really impressed by Dame. I mean, his "possible" future son-in-law is going to be a doctor.

To him, Amelia won the fucking lottery.

To me, it was the other way around.

This knucklehead, my son, just landed this crazy beautiful girl, and Bella says she has a good heart. The fact that my wife even digs her says a lot.

I don't know how he pulled it off, although I have an idea.

He is a Cullen.

"What if he took Amelia and me?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, Daddy, please! I wouldn't drink. I swear. I wouldn't. Legally, as long as I don't drink, it's cool." She kissed my cheek. "Please!"

"Stop whining." I tilted my head away.

"For years, I heard all about the Halloween parties—how awesome they are, and I'm finally old enough to go."

"Go trick-or-treating with Maggie—"

"Daddy!" Her voice hit that one octave that made me cringe. "You'll be there, Mom will likely be there. Uncle Carlisle, Aunt Alex, and Sonny are definitely going—"

"Maybe not," I said.

"I won't drink. I just wanna dance and hang out—I've never been to a club before."

"No." I went to get up.

"You should be grateful." She stood up, too, to poke my chest.

I looked down to her hand. "Excuse me?"

She shrugged. "I could have just gone—on another night, to another club. I could have been deceitful. But I'm being honest."

"So…? You think you should get points for giving me an ultimatum?"

Kylie blinked, thinking. "No. What I said was—"

"You wanna know what happened to the last guy who gave him an ultimatum?" Damion joined us.

"You guys suck! I'm depressed, dammit!" She stomped out of the room. "And I will ask Mom!"

Damion laughed. "Geez. Fucking Hurricane Kylie . . . You gonna let us go or not?"

"You too?" I asked. "More importantly, why are you here? I get that Amelia came to dinner, and I'm happy youse are getting along . . . but don't let her screw with school."

He shook his head, and he actually had a whole different demeanor about him. Damion seemed…happier? At ease? "Ducking into Brooklyn for a meal isn't going to fuck with anything."

"Good to know," I said, taking a glance around the room. "Your admirer was in the yard just now."

He raised a brow. "Really?"

I slowly shook my head, watching his shoulders slump. "Don't."

"No. It's just—well, I thought she hated me. It's surprising. That's all."

"Right." I walked out of the room. "Halloween is three weeks away. Let Kylie know I'll think about it." As I started up the stairs, I rubbed my forehead, wondering just how tight security would have to be—having my entire family at Midnight Sun.

"Kylie will probably be up my ass all night anyway." He followed me.

"I heard that!" Kylie shouted from the kitchen.

"Shhhh. Is Mom sleeping?" I asked.

"She went to bed…" Dame shrugged, and his phone rang. "It's Amelia." He never answered it.

I didn't say a word, gave Kylie and her sourpuss a look, and then went for my bedroom.

"Dad!"

I stopped with my hand on the knob.

"Can we go to the Staten Island Mall tomorrow?" Kylie was my best friend again.

"Sure." I bent to kiss her forehead. "It's late. Go to bed."

"Goodnight, Daddy." She hugged me, and I melted.

"'Night, angel."

"I'm sorry for being a brat . . . I'm just so sad again." And the tears were flowing once more.

"Sweetheart…" I rubbed her back and didn't know what to say—for her to go back and forth like this. Damion gave me a look as he made his way into his bedroom. Silently, I gestured to his sister—sure he'd know how to make her feel better. "Come on." While ushering her into our bedroom, I wasn't surprised to see Bella awake. She lay in bed, beautiful and snuggled in the blanket, watching TV.

"What's wrong?" Bella sat up.

"Mom…" Kylie dove for the bed and her mother.

"Oh, Kylie. Baby girl, you're going to see him soon."

I left them to it, and I wondered if I'd ever see my bed tonight. As weird as it was, this evening reminded of when they were all young—actually needed us.

"She okay?" Dame asked.

"She's sad about Peto," I said, going for the kitchen.

"I get it." He followed behind me. "Kylie was happy—the happiest she'd ever been, and now her reason for happiness is how many miles away? When you were locked up—"

My head whipped to him. "It's not the same—don't compare."

He nodded, agreeing. "Okay. She'll be fine, though. She'll get used to it. Just give her time. You know what a drama queen she is."

"Yeah…" I grabbed a water from the fridge.

"Mom says she cries every night."

"I wish I left her sleeping on the couch." I stared at the kitchen table, wondering if I should get comfortable here. "Christ…I just wanna go to bed. You should, too."

He grinned. "I should." And I didn't know why he was thrilled for bed.

"Things are going well—with you and Amelia?"

"It is what it is . . . we're casual, nothing serious." He was flippant.

"You're sleeping together, though."

"We are." He was short.

I scratched my head. "Your brother told me…you didn't do casual."

He laughed. "I was always with Julie. When did I have a chance to be that way with anyone?"

"Have you heard from her?" I took a seat, gesturing for him to do the same.

"Nope," he sighed, sitting to the side of me. "She calls every day, and I just don't know what to say."

"Don't leave her hanging—that's cruel." Honestly, I had no room to talk—not with my old track record. I rarely even remembered their names, but things were different now. I have a wife, a daughter—quite a few women I respect, so I felt correct in saying something.

Damion munched on his bottom lip. "It's more than not knowing what to say. I don't know what to do. Amelia is . . . She's, she's wonderful." He was gone—in love already. That much was evident from his goofy grin and unseeing gaze. "But then I had a good thing with Julie. Do I wanna burn a bridge if shit doesn't work out with Amelia?"

I shook my head. "One or the other. You don't want the headache, and if you do Amelia dirty—fucking embarrass me and this family—I'd beat your ass myself. Figure your shit out and do it soon."

"I can respect that," he whispered. "But…I'm not talking about keeping Julie on the side. Doesn't Luke have a mistress? Wouldn't it be hypocritical of him to be upset—"

"What is this?" I widened my arms. "This isn't like you."

"I'm just pointing out that—"

"No," I said. "You holding onto Julie while you're with Amelia."

"Julie broke up with me. She dumped me. She didn't want me anymore. Technically, I'm not doing shit to her. Amelia and I are just hanging out—we're friends who fuck." His face fell.

"Oh…" I didn't know that. "Friends who fuck, huh? There's no commitment?"

He shook his head. "We never spoke about it."

"Speak about it before she fucks someone else," I laughed. "Because 'technically', she wouldn't be doing shit to you."

"I'd fucking—"

"You'd what?" I leaned toward him. "Do some soul-searching, sit down and talk."

His grin was back. "We don't exactly talk, if you know what I mean. I know how I feel, though, which is why . . . I don't know how she feels, and . . . I—in all honesty—I don't—I don't know if I can—if I can put myself . . ."

"Out there?" I finished for him. "I don't know dick about relationships, except my own. But I'm going to guess Amelia doesn't enjoy just being your booty call. And if you don't wanna ask, or talk it out, then tell her." I smiled. "Tell her she can't fuck around. Simple as that—she can't fuck around if she wants to fuck you, too." I nodded, liking the way all that sounded. "You guys, though . . . I see it; I see the way you two are. She's just as into you as you're into her. Take the risk." I grasped his hand. "No risk, no reward."

Damion mouthed my words, and then nodded. "That sounds good."

"Words to live by." I belched, that sandwich not sitting well with me. "I'm going to bed." Kylie was either getting the boot, or I was going to sleep in her bed. Nevertheless, I bid goodnight to Dame—chances are I won't see him in the morning—and went straight for our room.

"Shhh." Bella was fast to place her finger to her lips. "Poor thing cried herself to sleep."

I smiled, and just like she was three years old, I lifted Kylie up and brought her to bed. She stirred, but mumbled goodnight and rolled over.

Of course, I bumped into Dame on my way back. "Goodnight for the tenth time," he said.

I gave him a head nod.

It was just my luck. This time, when I opened the door, Bella wasn't in bed. "Where are you?"

"Peeing." The toilet flushed.

"Oh." I locked our door, kicking off my shoes. "I fucking missed you, man."

"Man?" Bella giggled, leaving the bathroom.

"You know what I mean." I unbuttoned my shirt.

Bella was rubbing lotion into her hands, kneeling up to get into bed. "Kylie's worrying me. She keeps—she is sad about Gio, but when I ask what's wrong . . . She says she can't tell me because she doesn't even know. I wanna write it off as PMS . . ." Bella frowned.

I threw my slacks into the hamper, and then hopped into bed—I literally jumped. "She's bored." I gathered my gorgeous wife into my arms, using my leg to trap her. "She's just out of high school; she's always gone to school this time of year—"

"I know . . . I just wish I knew how to fix it. Then again, this could be PMS, plus Gio leaving, plus a multitude of other things. A lot has changed."

I pecked those lips. "You're right."

"You think it's for the better?" Her tone was somber.

"We'll find out soon enough." I nuzzled my nose to her cheek. "No worries. Aren't we always fine? Don't we always work shit out?"

"It's not us I'm worried about. We're fine—wait, you're happy, right?" She shot up.

I laughed, bringing her back. "With you? I'm always happy, and lately? I'm ec-fucking-static, baby." My lips touched hers. Our kiss was gentle at first, but then Bella moaned.

And when Bella moans . . .

"Baby," I nipped her neck, moving her hair away, "more than there are stars in the sky."

She pulled my hair, bringing my lips back to hers. "Me too," she whined the good whine, squirming her hips below me. "How-how come when we're good, everything else is crumbling?"

I leaned away to slip off her pants and panties—they both came off at the same time. "Tomorrow."

"What?" Bella reached for my boxers.

"We'll worry about that shit tomorrow." I pulled her legs, spreading them and bringing her closer.

Bella giggled. "You're such a brute."

"You love it." I got rid of my undershirt.

"I do." She ran her hands up my chest.

Grinning from ear to ear, I dove for my love.

Thank you for reading.

Please leave me your thoughts.