Ghost glanced back over his shoulder. “I ought to hit you in the mouth for calling me that.”
The Englishman’s brief, true smile made another flash appearance, tinged with sadness this time. “Kevin needs help,” he said quietly, “and he’s locked me out.”
The poor perverted bugger. He was just as fucked up, but had learned to disguise it so well. “We’ll take care of him,” Ghost promised. That’s what we do.”
“Hmm. Yes. Take care of them once the disease sets in, you mean. Being a part of your club is like breathing secondhand smoke. It doesn’t hurt at first. But by the time the damage is done, it’s too late to do anything about it. And then it kills you.”
Ghost gave him a long, level look. “That could be said of a lot of things.”
“Yes. But we’re talking about you.” He picked up his napkin, folded it idly. “Your son has his eyes on the president’s chair, doesn’t he?”
Ghost nodded, jaw tightening. “Most likely.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you ought to discourage him. He’d be an awful president. His heart’s much bigger than yours.”
Ghost snorted. “Thanks for lunch.”
~*~
“Now hold still,” Aidan instructed. Like running away was a possibility.
Lainie stared up at him, owlish, and somehow judgmental.
“I know I don’t do this as well as Mama. Just humor your old man, alright?”
He was reaching for the tabs of her diaper when someone knocked on the door. A ripple of unease moved down his back. Usually, it was just a neighbor kid pranking him, but this wasn’t the best neighborhood; you never knew. His reaction added to the growing knowledge that it was time he found his family a real home somewhere.
“Come on.” He scooped Lainie up and went to glance through the peephole. “Oh. It’s Poppy.”
Ghost brought an unusual air of contentment with him into the apartment. Whatever sort of visit this was, it wasn’t dire.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted Lainie, face softening as he took the baby into his arms and laid her up on his shoulder. One work-roughened hand came up to the back of her head in an expert hold. Lainie seemed pale and too-perfect against the tan skin and dusty old leather of her grandfather. Aidan had thought the same thing of himself when he’d held her in front of the mirror. His tats and scars and crow’s feet in dramatic contrast to the unblemished softness of his offspring.
He smiled. “You’re a total pushover of a grandpa.”
“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Ghost said. “Sam’s at work?”
“Yeah. I was just getting ready to change her.” He nodded toward the baby.
Ghost handed Lainie back and they walked to the bedroom.
“Is this a social visit?” Aidan asking, knowing damn well it wasn’t.
Ghost watched him lay Lainie on the changing table and tackle her dirty diaper with an amused expression. “Not exactly.”
“Ah…shit, that’s nasty.” Aidan tried not to breathe as he set the diaper aside and reached for the box of wipes.
“Wait till she’s eating food,” Ghost said sagely. “Nowthat’snasty.”
“I don’t wanna think about it.”
Lainie didn’t hinder the process, but she didn’t exactly help either, little legs wanting to curl up like bird talons. Aidan was afraid of breaking every part of her, and it took him whole minutes to fasten the new diaper into place.
Ghost nodded his approval, and, voice calm, said, “We found Don Ellison.”
