Perpetual Devotion (Book 4 in the Original BOC Series) ✔

Chapter Forty-One

The hotel room they booked for the night wasn't very glamorous as any politician would have been guaranteed, but to keep their whereabouts under wraps, Nathan made sure to find the most decent, yet affordable, place to crash.

They decided on a hole in the wall where families mostly took up vacancy. It took Sophie giving the stink eye to the clerks at the front, along with an envelope of cash, to keep them quiet about the President's stay. The elderly couple's eyes widened at the woman's narrowed glare, her sneer making the man gulp loudly before shakily handing over the room key for the large group.

Once inside the less-than-fancy room, Van questioned getting food delivered to the hotel room outside where he would pick it up. He figured there was no use in leaving the room unless strictly necessary.

They weren't sure if Wes was still watching; after asking on the whereabouts of the older blonde man, Max shrugged, shaking his head as he replied that he and the others were given specific orders and were to report back to California once the President was dead.

Max glanced at a wary Steven Marshall now sitting across the room.

The politician raised a brow, questioning whether or not he should be expecting more attempts on his life as the one earlier. When he was told 'no', the others frowned. They stared at the young man who fidgeted under the stares. His scowl returned to his face, waving them off and repeatedly expressing that he was being honest.

"This was a one-time attempt. It was either done or not. Wes wanted it done, and that if it wasn't done under the time limit, then we were supposed to return to London."

"I thought you were from Italy?" Louis asked, squinting at Max.

Max rolled his eyes, muttering that technically he was American after the news of his mother, but that he was raised in both Italy and London; the former being where he learned to train and speak the language.

"London is where Mr. Crenshaw's network resides," he spilled, sighing with his fingers running through the front of his hair. "Where I'm supposed to return tomorrow."

He turned to look at the Sergeant crossing his arms and leaned back against the wall behind him.

Max shrugged, "Not sure how well Mr. Crenshaw is going to take it when I'm a no-show."

Sophie, standing with her arms crossed and raising a brow, sneered, "He'll live."

Van stood up and faced the others after a moment. His scowl etched onto his face, making some of the others glance between the similarities of father and son. He growled out that Crenshaw's number was up once he returned to London to pay the fat man a visit.

"You're leaving...?" Max frowned, dropping his arms to his sides.

His father blinked, staring at his son who huffed, "You just got here... and you're leaving?"

Max's father stumbled with his words that he wasn't expecting Max to care. Not that Van wasn't happy that Max was concerned, but he expected his son to hate him for abandoning him so many years ago.

"So naturally you'd just get up and leave. Pft! You're pretty fuckin' lousy at reconciling, ya know that?"

The young man spun on his heel, sliding open the balcony door before slamming it shut. They watched him lean his arms against the metal railing, his back to them. Van sighed, shutting his eyes with a hand running back against his hair while Jennings touched his forearm, looking up at him.

Van dropped his hand, looking over at Nathan.

"I just can't get this right with him."

Nathan raised a brow, nudging himself off the wall without uncrossing his arms. He nodded that he'd speak with Max, ignoring the jealous look the other father shot his way. The Sergeant knew that it must be hard for Van to watch another male figure comfort his only son, but Nathan already had a bond with Max that allowed him to ease the idea of the kid giving his father a chance.