Chapter 46 I Found Something About Your Father

Chapter 46 I Found Something About Your Father
Chapter 22: Coffee and Confessions
Sunday morning arrived grey and heavy, the kind of weather that made the city look like it was trapped under a wet blanket. Cedric woke to the sound of rain against the windows ~ not the dramatic storm kind, just the steady, depressing drizzle that would last all day.
Falcone was already awake beside him, propped up on pillows with his phone in hand, reading something that made his jaw tight.
"What time is it?" Cedric mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.
"Eight-thirty." Falcone set his phone aside, his attention immediately shifting to Cedric. "How are you feeling? Last night was..."
"Intense." Cedric rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "But good. I think. She didn't hate you."
"She didn't love me either."
"She doesn't love anyone immediately. That's not how she works." Cedric turned his head to look at Falcone. "But she's trying. That's what matters."
Dinner the night before had been surprisingly pleasant after that initial tension. Linda had asked questions ~ careful, probing questions about how Cedric spent his days, what his plans were for school, whether he was still in touch with old friends. She'd been polite to Falcone, even warm at moments, particularly when he'd talked about the veterinary clinic and how proud he was of Cedric for pursuing his dreams again.
But there had been moments too where Cedric caught her watching them with that particular expression mothers had ~ the one that said she was filing away information for later analysis. The way Falcone's hand found Cedric's automatically. The way Cedric leaned into him without thinking. The small intimacies that told their own story.
She'd left around nine-thirty, hugging Cedric tight and whispering "be careful" in his ear before turning to Falcone and saying, with surprising firmness, "Take care of my son. He's precious cargo."
"The most precious," Falcone had agreed, and something in his voice had made Linda's expression soften slightly.
Now, in the grey morning light, Cedric felt the weight of what came next settling over him like the rain outside.
"I need to see Marcus today," he said quietly.
Falcone went very still. "I know."
"You've been avoiding his calls all week."
"I know that too." Cedric sat up, running his hands through his hair. "He keeps saying he has information about my family. About something important. I can't keep putting him off."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No. That would ~" Cedric stopped, imagining Marcus and Falcone in the same space. "That would be a disaster. This is something I need to do alone."
Falcone's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Okay. Where are you meeting him?"
"That coffee shop on Fifth. The one near the old library."
"That's in neutral territory. Good." Falcone reached for his phone again. "I'll have Marco drive you. He'll wait outside, give you privacy but stay close in case…"
"In case what? Marcus kidnaps me?"
"In case you need backup." Falcone's voice was firm. "I trust you, Cedric. I don't trust him. There's a difference."
Cedric wanted to argue, but he understood the logic. Marcus was a cop ~ or had been, before he'd gone rogue. He had resources, connections, a whole world that Falcone couldn't control. And control was what Falcone needed to feel safe.
"Fine. Marco can drive me." Cedric leaned over, kissing Falcone's jaw. "But you have to promise not to watch through traffic cameras or hack my phone or whatever paranoid thing you're considering."
"I would never…" Falcone stopped at Cedric's look. "Okay, I was considering it. But I won't. This is your meeting. Your choice about what to tell him."
"Thank you."
They lay there for a few more minutes, the rain providing white noise against the tension building in Cedric's chest. Finally, he forced himself out of bed, into the shower, through the motions of getting ready for a conversation he was dreading.
He chose his clothes carefully ~ jeans and a plain black t-shirt, nothing too expensive-looking. He didn't want to show up dressed like Falcone's kept man, even if that's technically what he was. The leather jacket he'd gotten from Falcone he left in the closet, opting instead for an old hoodie he'd had since college.
Looking at himself in the mirror, he almost looked like the old Cedric. The before-Falcone Cedric. Except his skin was clearer, his eyes less hollow, and he carried himself differently now. Like someone who knew they were loved.
That was the part Marcus would notice.
Downstairs, Mrs. Kozlov had breakfast waiting ~ lighter than usual, like she sensed he wouldn't be able to eat much. Coffee, toast, some fruit. Falcone sat across from him, drinking his own coffee and pretending to read something on his phone, but Cedric could feel the attention focused on him.
"Stop worrying," Cedric said.
"I'm not worrying."
"You're absolutely worrying. You've been staring at the same email for ten minutes."
Falcone set his phone down. "I don't like that you're meeting him. I don't like what he might say to you. What he might try to convince you of."
"You think he's going to try to get me to leave you."
"I think he's going to tell you that I'm dangerous. That you deserve better. That you're making a mistake." Falcone's voice was tight. "And he's not entirely wrong about any of that."
"But he's not entirely right either." Cedric reached across the table, taking Falcone's hand. "I know who you are. What you are. I'm choosing to be here anyway. Marcus can't change that."
"He can try."
"Let him." Cedric squeezed his hand. "I'm a grown man. I can handle a conversation with my ex-crush without being brainwashed."
"Ex-crush?"
"Very ex. He had his chance years ago. He doesn't get to suddenly want me now that someone else does."
Something fierce and possessive flashed in Falcone's eyes. "Good. Because you're mine, and I don't share."
"I know. Believe me, I know." Cedric stood, downing the last of his coffee. "I should go. Get this over with."
Marco was waiting by the front door, car keys in hand. He nodded at Cedric ~ a gesture that somehow conveyed both respect and readiness to commit violence if necessary.
The drive into the city was quiet. Cedric watched the rain-soaked streets blur past, people hurrying along sidewalks under umbrellas, the city looking grey and tired and real in a way it hadn't felt from inside the mansion's walls.
"You nervous?" Marco asked suddenly.
"Yeah."
"About seeing him? Or about what he might tell you?"
Cedric considered this. "Both. Marcus isn't stupid. If he says he has information about my family, he probably does. I just don't know if I want to hear it."
"Sometimes the truth is worse than the lie," Marco said. "But at least with truth, you know what you're dealing with."
"That's surprisingly philosophical for a bodyguard."
"I contain multitudes." Marco's almost-smile appeared. "We're here. I'll park across the street. You need me, you text. I'll be there in thirty seconds."
"I know. Thank you."
The coffee shop was one of those aggressively hipster places with exposed brick and mismatched furniture and a chalkboard menu that tried too hard to be quirky. It was also blessedly warm after the cold rain, and smelled like espresso and wet wool.
Marcus was already there, sitting at a corner table with two coffees in front of him. He looked different than Cedric remembered ~ thinner, more worn around the edges. His hair was longer, uncombed. He wasn't wearing his usual crisp button-downs but instead a wrinkled henley and jeans. He looked like someone who'd stopped caring about appearances.
He looked up when Cedric entered, and his whole face transformed. Relief, hope, something that might have been desperation ~ all of it flickering across his features in rapid succession.
"Cedric." He stood, like he might hug him, then seemed to think better of it and sat back down. "You came. I was starting to think you wouldn't."
"I said I would." Cedric slid into the chair across from him, eyeing the coffee. "Is one of those for me?"
"Black, no sugar. The way you used to drink it in high school." Marcus pushed one cup across the table. "I didn't know if your taste had changed."
It had. Cedric took his coffee with cream now, had been taking it that way since moving in with Falcone. But he accepted the cup anyway, wrapping his hands around it for warmth.
"You look good," Marcus said, his eyes scanning Cedric's face with an intensity that made him want to squirm. "Really good. Better than... better than when I saw you last."
"Thanks."
"The bruises are gone. The dark circles. You look …" Marcus stopped, his jaw clenching. "You look like he's taking care of you."
"He is."
"Is that all he's doing?"
Cedric set down his coffee carefully. "I didn't come here to defend my relationship to you, Marcus. You said you had information about my family. So talk. What is it?"
Marcus looked like he wanted to push the relationship issue, but something in Cedric's expression must have warned him off. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folder ~ thin, dog-eared, with the weight of something important.
"We had an agreement about being my informant about Falcone for months….but I think you broke the agreement already,so I started Following his money trails, talking to other informants, piecing together his operation." Marcus opened the folder, revealing photographs and documents. "And I found something. About your father."
Cedric's stomach dropped. "What about him?"