Fifteen
1611 Words
Ross stalked over to the Callum when he arrived, barely getting within a few feet before David put himself in the middle. “Move your ass, Marks.”
“Not happening, Sir.” Unarmed, the younger man stood in the way defiantly until Callum asked him to move. Stepping aside, he watched as the teen smirk, and stifled a laugh because he knew what the others didn’t: Callum’s attitude was about to make a grand entrance.
Shaking his head, Callum grinned at Ross. No one other than his family knew he’d been trained as a child. They didn’t know what he was like. Not yet. Bracing himself, he said, “Are you seriously challenging me, Cousin?”
“Listen here, Cal. I’m not above beating your ass in training.” Ross snarled. Grabbing the teen by his shirt, he was shocked when the boy slipped out of the fabric and danced away. “Don’t start that s**t. Today ain’t your day, Kid.”
“Sure it is. You just don’t know it yet,” Callum snickered. “I’m going for ice cream with the fam when this is over. Are you coming, too?”
As Hans stepped into the Underground, the crowd fell quiet. Seeing the smile on the older man’s face, he relaxed. Backing down wasn’t always easy when it came to the new trainees, but Callum had started long before he was taken. Getting out of a hold when someone grabbed his shirt was only one of the many moves Ross himself had taught the boy. “You still got your father’s ball of steel, don’t you?”
“Come to the ring, Cuz. Let’s go show my new team what I’m like,” Callum replied with a wink.
“Nope, not today. Your body still isn’t completely healed, so today was earmarked for introducing you to your team,” Ross replied. Raising his hand, he summoned the other two over. Glaring at them, he warned them to keep their attitude to a minimum before walking over to his Boss.
“What’s your story?” Callum questioned once they were alone.
The one with dark brown curls cut short and brown eyes raised a brow at him. “Nice to finally meet you, Callum. Je suis Thomas Slade.”
“You’re French? That’s cool,” Callum said, his eyes wide with intrigue.
David coughed, “Yeah, Thomas is from Northern Quebec and comes from a decently powerful family. Still engaged, Thom?”
“I was married over the summer because Holly got pregnant. She’s with the family until I can get a place set up here in the city. She wanted to stay in Quebec, but I told her I needed to go where the work was,” Thomas replied.
Callum frowned, knowing that his father would have likely offered the men something in return for the jobs they were allocated. A thought crossed his mind, and he let a slow smile cut across his face. “Did you ask my Dad?”
“For?” Thomas pressed, scowling at the heir.
Shaking his head, Callum said, “Help getting everything set up?”
“Nope, and I don’t want the help, either. I can do it on my own,” the man snapped. Suddenly realizing that he’d copped attitude with the Kingpin’s son, Thomas paled. “s**t! Didn’t mean to be grossier.”
Not one to be bothered by minor things, Callum shook his head again. “Rude? Nah, that wasn’t rude, man. As far as I’m concerned, talk how you want. I’d rather down-to-earth honesty over anything else anyway. Been lied to for way too long for me to not want the truth.”
“Thank f**k for that,” the other man stated. Crossing his arms, he huffed out a breath. “I’m Tracy Adolph Roberts, but I go by Trace. Nineteen, German, and recently married to my girlfriend with my firstborn on the way.”
Thomas scoffed, “Get that DNA test, boy. I met your wife, and she’s as petty as they come.”
“Speak for yourself. I can change her. I know there’s a sweet, gentle soul under all that brash bitchiness,” Trace replied, shoving the black man away from him.
Grabbing him, Thomas tackled Trace to the ground, listening as Trace grunted. “Fucker.”
“Asshole.”
Someone cleared their throat, and Callum turned to face his Erik’s wife, Nikita. In her arms was a tiny infant that looked to be a few months old. His heart constricted tightly, and he felt as though he’d lost something more when he lost Ambrosia to her mother’s hatred of his father. Forcing a smile, he pushed the idea to the back of his mind and walked over to her. “Hey, is that my new baby cousin Erik told me about?”
Nikita smiled, pulling the boy into her arms, “I’m so happy he found you, Sweetheart. Everyone missed you so much, but you father just didn’t know the meaning of give up.”
“I’m grateful for it,” Callum murmured as he hugged her back. Taking the baby into his arms, he sniffled. “What’s her name?”
Adjusting the boy’s hold, Nikita kissed his cheek. “I can see your father calming down now that you’re here, baby. As for this little bug, her name is Christina May Drake.”
“She’s beautiful,” Callum murmured.
“So, a big-ass baby told me you wanted to go with us to grab some ice cream. Still not allergic to anything?” Nikita asked as she took the baby back from the teen.
He nodded, his eyes lighting up. “Guys, you can join me if you want. Think of it as recon training.”
Blinking at the teen that was just around a year younger than them, Trace and Thomas shrugged. Not having anything better to do that day, they grabbed their stuff, sharing a worried look as the Kingpin himself reached their crew.
“Dad, that’s okay, right? Recon and watching my back while is the whole reason I needed a team, isn’t it?” Callum asked cautiously. He didn’t want to make his father angry, but he needed some kind of normal. He craved anything that let him actively forget the pain and degradation he suffered as he bounced from home to home.
Inadvertently, his mind focused on the one person able to shatter each and every one of his defenses until he was the one begging her for mercy. He smiled, silently wondering what she was doing.
“I don’t see an issue with it. Nikita and Christina could use the extra protection, as well. Callum, when you’re ready, your cousin Tasha would like to meet with you. She’s concerned that you’re going to hate her for the crimes your Grandfather, Great-aunt, and step-Grandmother committed against you.” Hans replied.
A tremor ran through his body at the mention of the Victors family. Had they tried to find him? Had Tasha been worried about him like his father was?
“Yes,” his father said in an amused voice.
Realizing he’d spoken out loud, Callum blushed furiously. “If that’s the case, then, yeah. I’ll talk to her. I got nothing to lose at this point.”
“Callum, I have to talk to you about that girl you left behind.”
His attention completely fixed on his father, he narrowed his brown gaze on the man as he shook his head slowly. “Don’t you even think about it, Dad. I didn’t leave her. I wanted her with me, and I would have given anything to bring her here. I just couldn’t tear her from her brother like that.”
Knowing what was coming, Hans nodded. “I know that. Callum, the reason I hate Justin so much was because your Afi Steven’s security firm, Everett Holdings, found that the man was selling kids in the eighties. I’m sorry, but I would rather you didn’t have anything to do with her.”
“So, you’re really going to go there? Is that really the path you’re willing to take, Dad?” The teen questioned darkly. “Her father is your problem, she’s mine. She was mine before you knew, and she will always be mine. I won’t give her up, and, if you decide you want to try me, I’ll happily leave.”
His eyes wide, Hans blinked slowly. He knew there was a chance the girl had sunk her claws into Callum, and he honestly believed she was the one feeding Justin information on his son. A chill at the teen’s words hit him square in the chest. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” Callum stated as he reached to take his coat out of David’s hand.
Grabbing the teen, Hans snarled. “I’m in charge, not you.”
Breaking from the hold, he shoved his father hard. Gasps rose up around them as time seemed to stop for a moment. “Don’t you dare go pulling the same s**t Mom’s dumbass father pulled on you. You want me around, then act like my opinion matters or get out of my way. I’m done being a punching bag. I’m done pretending to be okay when I’m not. Everything I went through messed me up, Dad, but Ambrosia saved my life. She stepped in on day one and never once let me fight on my own. I was the one that begged her not to get in the middle, so don’t you dare blame her for that asshole’s treatment of me.”
- Writer
