Liability

Chapter 20 - Rhys

Rhys hugs his grandfather tightly, closing his eyes when Caleb's arms squeeze him back. His grandfather is strong even though he's pushing seventy, his dark eyes shining with intelligence as he leans back to take a closer look at Rhys. His salt and pepper brows draw together and the same thick lips Rhys sees in the mirror every day turn down in a frown.

"What did my useless son do now?" he asks, making Rhys smile and shake his head fondly.

"Nothing, Grampy," he replies before adding, "Nothing more than usual at least. It's just been a long day."

"Hm... Come, sit. Did you eat?"

"Not hungry."

"That's not an answer, Cielito." His grandfather pushes him into a chair at the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Rhys watches him putter around, pulling a covered plate out of the fridge and popping it in the microwave, his grandfather's larger than life personality seeps through the comfortable t-shirt and sleeping pants he is wearing.

"Alenyka Yurieva sends her greetings."

His grandfather looks over his shoulder just as the microwave beeps. He flashes Rhys a grin that seems fond and nostalgic at the same time, making Rhys wonder if his grandfather had ever had some feelings for Alenyka Pyotrova.

"She still a firecracker I bet."

"More like an iceberg." That earns him a laugh and a nod before his grandfather puts a plate of steaming chipotle chicken in front of him.

"Sounds just like little Alenychka," he chuckles. "Eat up. You're too scrawny as it is."

"I'm not hungry," Rhys protests but his fingers are already curled around the fork in his grandfather's hand. "Grampy, does she hate my father?"

"Who doesn't? Except for the public," his grandfather adds when Rhys smirks at him and opens his mouth to argue. Caleb snorts at him and steals a piece of chicken from the plate. "You're not eating."

Rhys rolls his eyes and pushes a forkful of admittedly delicious chicken into his mouth. "You're not answering my question."

"Your father, if nothing else, is a gifted politician. Wouldn't have gotten so far if he wasn't. As such he's useful and just spineless enough to be of use to someone as powerful as Alenyka. That won't make her like him."

"She..." Rhys looks down at his food, unsure if he should bring up the night's events. But it's his grandfather. The only person who knows everything about him. More than Thommy, even. "She acted strange," is what he settles for.

"Strange?" His grandfather sounds contemplating. "She is a peculiar woman, no doubt about that."

"That's an understatement," Rhys mutters, frowning.

He's never managed to figure out what it is about his grandfather that makes him let go all his carefully constructed masks. It's always been like that, since he was a whiny little kid, still naively vying for his father's attention and too young to be left alone. So his parents would drop him off at his grandparents' apartment on their way to whatever important event they were going to that was no place for a rowdy brat that knew nothing about protocol. His grandparents took it in their stride and showed him that he was worth the attention and the love he was aching to get from his parents, especially his father.

It still made him wonder how his father could turn out the way he did with parents like Caleb and Sarah Martinez, but his abuela had never talked about her family, so Rhys guessed his own father must have inherited his piece of shit personality from that branch of the family.