Flynn’s Birthday: His Parents Get A Dressing Down

Rowan Hart

“It’s the third time she’s called.” Kent sounded pissed, her defensive instincts right there on the surface for us to see.

And I got it.

It was Flynn’s birthday. And while he was still fast asleep after another insane day, he’d be waking any moment now—likely because I’d abandoned our bed to prepare him a birthday breakfast.

Our lives might have been up in the air, but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve a birthday where he felt loved.

And dammit, I’d venture out of my den and finally put his parents straight if they didn’t stop with their spite.

Judging from the death stare Kent directed at Flynn’s phone, she’d likely be joining me. I suspected I wouldn’t even need to ask.

“Let’s just focus on organising the table and giving him a brilliant morning,” Jada said smoothly, the voice of reason. It didn’t mean she wasn’t annoyed or protective of Flynn, just more rational than Kent and me.

While I knew Jada was right—Flynn would get a kick from seeing the cake she’d stayed up baking and decorating, and he’d probably be just as overwhelmed by the banners and streamers we’d put up—I wouldn’t let any more shitty messages from his parents ruin his day.

Since he’d missed his birthday meal, they’d been hounding him. Honestly, Flynn had seemed more surprised than us that they’d bothered to harass him and hadn’t simply let it go with a snide “we’re disappointed in you” speech and a tagged-on “bringing shame on the family name” spiel.

Of course, they had done that as well. But then they’d persisted in continuing to reach out to him. He’d spoken to them once and had to cut them short due to the giant clusterfuck trying to take down the ITU, but they still wouldn’t stop.

That was likely due to the bombshell of “Guess what? I’m a lion shifter” he’d let slip before he ended the call.

But still… the text and voice messages they’d been sending had preached about having access to experimental procedures to help Flynn be “rid of the abomination cells.”

Needless to say, the blatant prejudice went down like a lead balloon.

It also finally pushed Flynn into making the decision to cut off contact with his parents for good. After this morning’s attempt, I’d be sure to make it impossible for them to reach out to him by email or phone again.

“I will not let them ruin his birthday.” Kent’s jaw clenched.

We’d barely have enough time to sing “Happy Birthday” to him and blow out the candles before we’d be chained to our stations for the rest of the day. The nightmare of Hornell infiltrating some government sectors would not go away by itself. Nor would their search for the ITU members.

Or us making sure we all remained safe and secure.

We’d need to keep on top of our game to make that happen.

“I know, and they won’t,” Jada said calmly.

With the phone now silent, I secured the final birthday banner into position and stepped back to admire my work. It was a little crooked, but he’d love it.

I set about making coffees, aware that time was ticking down, only to pause when, once again, Flynn’s phone rang.

“Fuck it.”

My brow jumped high at the growl in Kent’s voice. A smirk broke out on my lips as I leaned against the kitchen counter, crossed my ankles, and folded my arms.

Fuck yes. Finally.

She clicked Answer and held the phone to her ear, her face deadly as she didn’t say a word.

“Flynn.”

My gaze narrowed at his mum’s cold voice.

“Flynn’s not available right now,” Kent said.

My lips twitched. If Flynn’s mum thought her tone was cold, it was nothing compared to the glacial dagger of Kent’s that was sharp enough to cut diamond.

“Who’s speaking?”

Ignoring the question, Kent asked, “You do know it’s your son’s birthday today, right? That’s why you’re calling, to wish him a happy birthday?”

“Of course I know it’s his birthday, and it’s none of your business why I’m calling.”

“You know what is my business?” Kent didn’t allow room for a response. “Protecting Flynn from his piece-of-shit parents. Let me make myself crystal clear. If you try to make contact with him or reach out to him again when it’s clear he wants nothing to do with you, you’ll find the Cardimine account disappearing in a cloud of smoke… unless, of course, I take it to the authorities.”

I internally fist pumped, knowing I’d done the right thing by handing Kent the file I’d gathered on the Cardimine account—an offshore bank account wasn’t even all that surprising. What did make for an interesting read was how Flynn’s parents had kept a fully detailed ledger of the corruption their clients had been involved in, for which their law firm had managed to stop various charges from being brought against them.

The bank account also had a secure online storage facility that the overpriced security firm had guaranteed was hack-free. When I’d discovered it, the information it contained would be enough to put the Smythes away for life, for them to lose all their assets, and take down several multimillion-dollar companies—and several CEOs.

Mrs. Smythe’s soft gasp was music to my ears. She attempted to rally. “I-I don’t kno—”

“Just cut the bullshit. If Flynn ever wishes to see or talk to you, he’ll reach out, but until then, lose his number.”

A beat of silence followed before Mrs. Smythe asked, “Who are you?”

Kent’s lips curled, the smile on the impressive side of sinister. “All you need to know is, Flynn is my kid. He has a family who loves him, and I want to be sure there’s no room for misunderstanding: we’ll do everything and anything needed to protect him and make sure he knows he’s loved every single day of his life.”

A heartbeat I recognised as well as my own reached me, easing the slight bit of tension in my shoulders that always sat there when we were apart.

It was disgusting and needy, and likely unhealthy; I gave zero levels of shit, as he was mine, and I loved the fuck out of him.

Flynn was here, standing in the doorway, his gaze soft, his cheeks flushed, and the sweetest of smiles directed our way.

Apparently, Mrs. Smythe had a death wish. “We’ve given everyt—”

“I wasn’t asking for a response,” Kent cut her off, her voice dripping with venom. “Another word and you’ll wish you were never born. Now, go fuck yourself.”

Kent hit End, her focus completely on Flynn as his gaze roamed the room, lingering a moment on the banners, the wrapped gifts, and then settling on the birthday cake.

“Happy birthday.” Kent sent Flynn an up-nod.

His pulse fluttered, and my gut tightened, my own heart constricting at the sound.

“Thanks.” He looked at each of us in turn as he entered the kitchen area, stopping when he was before me.

“Happy birthday.” I punctuated my greeting with a kiss.

“You did all this for me?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “We all did.”

He squeezed my waist, gaze settling on Jada and Kent, who stood together a few metres away.

“And you threatened my mum? Told her to fuck off?”

Kent arched her brow. “I was more eloquent than that, but yes.”

“And you made me a cake.” A hitch in his voice as he looked at Jada.

“The best thing to eat for breakfast on your birthday,” she responded.

Flynn leaned into my side. I wrapped my arm around him, gladly offering him comfort.

“This is already the best birthday ever. Thank you.”

Kent nodded, picked up the cake knife, and spun it around, the blade glinting in the flickering flames of the candles Jada had lit. “Get your arse over here, make a birthday wish, and then we can eat and go kick the bad guys’ arses.”

Flynn chuckled. After pressing a kiss to my neck, he left my side and set about doing just that.

Cake and butt-kicking. Just another day in my world since falling for Flynn and grudgingly opening my den to the motley ITU.