Autumn Feast - Charlie Richards Page 0,12
Roark would have bowed out of it, but he couldn’t let Armand organize it, not if they wanted all the kids to be in one piece by the end of the night, and the shelter not to be destroyed.
First, there’s a flood, then a fire. North is sure someone is sabotaging the party, but who, and why? And will the council assassins be able to keep the party going, or will the kids be sorely disappointed?
Chapter One
Roark looked around the table, unable to stop smiling. This was his family—his chosen family, the family that wouldn’t abandon him. His fellow assassins knew what this life was like and what Roark had been through. They’d been through it, too. That was why they were a real family.
They were noisy and messy, and a lot to deal with now that Roark was partly in charge of them, but he wouldn’t change his life for anything in the world.
“I want to organize a Halloween party for the kids at the shelter,” Griffith declared.
Roark immediately changed his mind. He did want to change his life. He could already see this was going to be a mess, and he didn’t want to be involved.
“What kind of party?” Armand asked, because of course he was interested. Armand loved parties, any kind, for any reason.
This was going to be a mess, wasn’t it? And Roark would be in charge of it, or at the very least, in charge of keeping an eye on Armand and whoever else decided to participate.
“I don’t know. They’re teenagers, so probably no trick or treating. Maybe something cute, like a dance party? They don’t really have the opportunity to have that.”
Armand bounced on his chair. “It’s a great idea, then. We could rent a place big enough for them, decorate it, and prepare food. I’ve already picked my costume.”
“No shifting into scary people,” Roark warned.
Armand rolled his eyes. “I know better. They’re kids. I don’t want to scare them.” His eyes glinted with something that terrified Roark, though. “That means you’re okay with it, then? We can do this?”
Roark wanted to say no. He didn’t like parties, and he’d rather spend Halloween alone with his mate, in bed watching scary movies. Noel hated them, and he always ended up trying to climb into Roark’s lap when they watched them because he was so afraid.
But Griffith was talking about kids—the kids who had to live in the LGBTQ shelter Griffith volunteered at because their families didn’t want them, had kicked them out because of who they were. How was Roark supposed to say no to making them happy, at least for one evening? “On one condition.”
Armand was bouncing so hard Roark half expected him to fall off his chair. It was cute and a good thing to see. Armand had been so hard on himself and closed off until Beck had walked into his life and pushed him to realize who he was—and that who he was was lovable. “What condition? We’ll say yes to anything.”
“I wouldn’t promise that if I were you. I might ask you to take charge on the next mission that needs to be organized.”
Armand grimaced. “You know I’m shit at organizing stuff.”
“Then why do you want to organize a party? For kids who don’t know us and who can never find out what we are and what we do, might I add.”
“They don’t need to know about the job. They don’t need to know anything beyond the fact that we’re Griffith’s friends and that we want to help and make them happy for one night. Come on, Roark. Try to put yourself in their place. They don’t have anything. They live in a shelter. They don’t have a family or a home. This is the least we can do for them.”
Roark put down his fork. “I know all that. You don’t have to try to convince me. We’ll do it. Well, everyone who wants to participate, anyway. And I will organize it.” There was no way Roark was letting Armand have anything to do with the organization, or they’d end up partying in a ditch eating potato chips from the closest grocery store. That wouldn’t do, not for Griffith’s kids.
“I’m not protesting that part, trust me. You’re more than welcome to think of everything. We’d probably end up without anything to drink if I had to do that.”
“That’s what I was thinking would happen.”
Armand’s smile was wide. “We’re on, then?”
Roark looked at Griffith. “What do you think? Can you