I glanced up at her through my heavy brows. “Eric comes here every day. He’s been keeping her alive… and quiet.”
“Why him?” Ayda asked quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the engine of Eric’s bike. “Why did you trust him with this?”
“Because he’s the one person in my life whose opinion of me I don’t give a fuck about.” I stared into her eyes, seeing the betrayal she felt. My hands turned, holding her and pulling her closer to me until our faces were an inch apart. “He’s a machine, Ayda. I needed that when this went down. It’s nothing personal.”
“It is to him,” she grumbled, stiffening when he cut the engine of his bike.
The two of us turned just in time to see Eric swinging his leg off the bike. He was carrying a small bag, which I assumed was filled with the usual shit we brought for Helen. Food, water, painkillers, and he was wearing the first sign of emotion I’d seen on his face since his return to Babylon. Eric look confused and… worried. I frowned, watching him as he secured a weak ass half smile in place and strode over to us slowly and confidently.
Ayda pushed to a crouch and swung around just enough to sit next to me, facing Eric head-on with narrowed, cold eyes. There was so much tension in her body she had to speak through her teeth to greet him.
“Eric.”
He gave her a nod of acknowledgment and my father’s signature cool smile. “Ayda.” His attention shifted to me. “Drew.”
Pressing my lips together, I raised a weak hand and gave him a feeble wave of acknowledgment in return. He knew what I was saying without saying it. Ayda sitting beside me said it all.
When he came to a stop in front of us both, he looked every bit the former president that he once was. Old badges from back in his time littered his denim vest, and he was wearing a black and gray flannel shirt that had definitely seen better days, but somehow my father pulled it off. Smarmy, handsome bastard that he happened to be.
“I thought it was my turn to check in,” he said, directing the conversation at me.
“Change of plan.”
“I see that.”
I blew out all the air from my cheeks and glanced atAyda. Her eyes were like ice, trained on Eric without so much as a blink. I hoped to God she wasn’t going to take her disappointment in me out on him when I’d started all this. I had no loyalty to the man. He left me for shit a long time ago. But punishments should be given to those who deserve them: me.
When I looked back up at Eric, he was watching Ayda.
“Everything okay here?” he asked carefully.
“Better now Ayda knows what’s going on.”
In a show of solidarity, Ayda dropped her hand to my leg and leaned into my side, all traces of her disappointment and upset gone. She wasn’t allowing Eric any insight into this situation, and she had walls up. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“Glad to hear it.” Eric nodded again, not giving anything away.
“What’s she eating tonight?” I asked him, gesturing to whatever was in the bag in his hand.
“Chicken tender basket from Dairy Queen.” He lifted the bag, tilted his head in its direction and smirked. “We keep feeding her this shit, and she’s going to wish you’d aimed that bullet a little to the left, Drew.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Not funny.”
Eric took another glance at Ayda, his discomfort clear. “Has she spoken to you yet?” he asked her calmly. All he knew was calm. I’d yet to see him lose his temper or lash out the way I was known for doing, not since the day he’d arrived back in Babylon to surprise us. He was the perfect poker player—only the chips he played with were people’s lives.
“Me?” Ayda asked.
“You.”
Ayda shifted with discomfort, but the hardness of her glare never left. “Nope.” She turned her gaze to me. “Maybe she should eat first. I can try and talk to her when I take her to bathe.”
“Bathe?” Eric interrupted, his brow raised and aimed at me. “She’ll be asking for a robe and slippers next,” he said dryly.
“It’s common courtesy. No one enjoys sitting in their sweaty filth. I can attest to that.”
Eric eyed Ayda, a thoughtful hum escaping him.
I was just about to open my mouth and say something when the vibrating of my phone in the pocket of my cut pulled my attention away. Reaching for it, I pulled it out and saw Slater’s name lighting up my screen.