“I'll sign for it. Stay here and watch over your mom.” Just like that, the man had flipped a switch, acting as though he hadn’t shared something so traumatic with me.

Colin angled his head, studying me. “Watch you, why?”

“I had a few drinks.” I was about to be parented by my son. “I’m ninety percent fine now.”

“I’ll be right back.” Constantine took off, and I had a feeling he was grateful for the excuse, needing a minute to pull himself together.

“What made you want to drink? That’s not like you.” Colin wasted no time starting in on his lecture.

“Things.” I frowned.

“Like what kind of things?”

I stepped around the dirty dishes to sit. “I drank because of a call with your uncle, and as for your dad, he didn’t have a shirt on because he was talking to me about his scars.” Nothing good ever came from a lie. I had to be truthful with him if I expected the same in return.

“Oh.” He dropped on the bed beside me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his legs. “Do I want to know about either of those things?”

I rubbed his back. “Your uncle’s happy that your father’s in your life.”

He glanced at me without sitting up. “Really?”

“Really,” I affirmed. “The scars . . . that’s for your father to tell you when or if he’s ready.”

“At least he felt comfortable telling you.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “Did Uncle Easton say anything else? Like compare Dad to⁠—”

“Carter?”

He peeked at me again.

“Kind of.” They both have dangerous baggage. That was information I’d leave out for a while. It would only concern Colin, making him worry about how it would negatively impact me.

“I mean, he is like him, though. Billionaire. Former military. Bad guys piss their pants at hearing just his name alone. Fights like John Wick but tries to keep people alive when he does.”

I was well aware of that fictional character’s name. He’d made me watch the first movie, and I still hadn’t recovered from having to watch a dog die.

Before I could respond to his observations, Constantine reappeared, holding the PlayStation box and two video games on top of it.

“Thank you.” Colin stood, stepping around our dishes, ready to accept the gifts, but Constantine shook his head.

“I need your fake ID first.”

“You have a fake ID?” At this point, why was I even surprised?

“It was just to get into clubs to dance,” Colin remarked, far too nonchalantly for me, before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Thankfully, he handed it over to Constantine without protest.

Constantine stuck to the deal and swapped the PlayStation and games for it. “I was wondering if I can play Call of Duty with you?”

“Like now?” Colin’s shoulders went back in surprise.