Chapter 110

Dad sends the message at nine seventeen in the morning: 

Office. You and Mayhem. Now. 

Clem 

No explanation. No punctuation beyond the full stops. Which, for Dad, is basically the equivalent of setting off a flare. 

I’m halfway through my first coffee in the garage when my phone buzzes. Mayhem’s does the same thing from the other side of the room. He reads the message, looks at me, and I look at him. Neither of us says anything. 

Tucker glances up from the payroll paperwork. “Someone die?” 

“Not yet,” Mayhem says, getting to his feet.