“I know,” Jeremiah said softly.
He was one of the few people who knew about Alexandra. Dei had always kept his cards close to his chest, and it wasn’t because he didn’t trust the people around him. It was everything to do with the fact that he never, ever wanted his friends to look at him with that gut-wrenching pity he hated so damn much.
But it hadn’t taken long for Jeremiah to crack Dei’s outer shell, and for the short period of time his mom could enjoy it, Jeremiah would go with him and bring Alexandra food from the restaurant. She seemed to enjoy Jeremiah’s company, and it killed them both a little bit more every day how quickly she was slipping now.
“If Sofia comes in again, just give me a call,” Dei told him tiredly. “I’ll take care of it.”
Jeremiah’s jaw worked like he was either working out what to say or trying to hold back. Then, he reached out and found Dei’s arm. He gave the end of his stump a careful squeeze, and Dei felt something powerful in his chest because most people avoided touching him there like the plague.
But Jeremiah never seemed to give a shit.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take off for the night.”
Dei grimaced. “Come on, boss. I can stick around for some prep. You and Marcus don’t need to handle all that shit on your own.”
“You and I both know you need to get off your leg,” Jeremiah warned. “We’re fucked this weekend if you’re out of commission.”
Dei wanted to argue because he wanted to feel useful, but he knew damn well it would only set him back if he started being a stubborn bastard about it. “Fine. But I’ll come in a couple hours early to prep more meatballs.”
“I’ll take it,” Jeremiah said with a grin. He hopped up and walked around the bar, leaning down for a second. “You wanna do me a big favor, though?” he asked, then stood back up with an armful of takeout bags.
“Dinner for the boys?”
Jeremiah grinned. “Irons and Works is open late tonight, so I told Max I’d send food for him and the guys. It shouldn’t be too busy this late. I ran some wings over there last night after we closed, and they were having a fucking Game of Life tournament.”
Dei laughed, feeling a strange pulse of fondness rush through him. He felt odd about going—about seeing Felix because he had no doubt the guy was probably judging the hell out of him for his messy family, but…he wanted to see him again. He more than wanted to see him again.
He could never have Max, but he didn’t mind being able to look whenever he got the chance.
“No problem, boss.”
Jeremiah let out a breath of relief. “Tell Max I’ll make it up to him when I get home.”
Dei shook his head as he eased off the stool, ignoring the pain shooting up his spine. “Sorry, but hell no. I’m definitely not gonna send sexy messages to your fuckin’ boyfriend.”
Jeremiah laughed loudly and waved him off as Dei dragged the handle of the bags over toward him and hooked them over his wrist. He was moving slowly, so it took him twice as long to get to his office so he could grab his cane and keys, but soon enough, he was slipping out the back and into the night air.
The roads were slick and wet, and the air was heavy with the storm that had just passed. Across the street in the dim lights, Dei could see a collection of crabs crossing the road, and their only saving grace was that it was late enough that traffic had died down.
He pushed himself a little faster than he meant to as he made his way over to the next building, and his hand was shaking from exertion as he opened the door and stepped in.
Dei immediately flinched at the bright lights bouncing off the black-and-white tiles. He’d been to quite a few tattoo shops, having plenty of ink himself, but the difference was that Irons and Works smelled a bit like flowers, and music wasn’t blasting out his eardrums.
In fact, the place was so quiet he was immediately worried that everyone had left and forgot to lock the door.
A beat passed, then two, and Dei was considering leaving when the swinging door on the far side of the room smacked the wall and a familiar face appeared. Felix’s gaze scanned him, and Dei felt a little thrill when he saw the look of recognition in his eyes.
“Hey, you.”
Dei smiled and lifted his cane in an attempt to wave. “Hey.”
Felix walked over to him, his pace quicker than Dei had seen him usually move. “Do you have an appointment?”
Dei set the bags on the counter. “Actually, I come bearing food from a very exhausted restaurant owner.”
Felix’s brows rose high on his forehead. “Oh shit. More drama?”
“Some social media influencer ate at the restaurant last night, and apparently, her post about the cake went viral,” Dei said, shuddering. “It was balls to the fuckin’ wall all night.”