by Cara Dee
Boone was already parked outside Ma’s house when I pulled up, and I smirked when he stepped out of his truck.
I killed the engine but stayed in my seat to replace my black hoodie with my favorite denim shirt. “You afraid to face Mom without me?”
“We threw our daughter to the wolves unprepared, in hopes she’d talk, so I don’t think I’m the only one nervous right now.”
He had a point.
I folded the sleeves past my elbows and then ran a hand through my hair and checked the rearview. No need to look like I’d just committed a crime.
“How did it go out there, by the way?” I asked.
Boone shrugged and cracked his knuckles absently. “It almost feels like a dead lead. We can’t find the new owner—if there is one—or link it to the Langes. And the site itself is a dump.”
Hmm. “What needs to be done out there? Like, if the Langes are planning to use the site for something when they arrive, can they?”
“Fuck no. We’re talking total renovations. The building is standing, but that’s about it. I peered inside, and it’s in complete shambles. At least two walls have met a sledgehammer, the stairs to the second floor are missing steps, there’re trash bags in the corners, a hole in the lobby area’s floor, and a couple windows are cracked. I took photos—you can see for yourself later.”
Part of me wanted to solve the puzzle, but a bigger part of me was ready to put all this behind me. We’d done our job. All we had left was to continue to provide Willow and Darius with the intel that ran through the channels we’d opened. Allegra was gonna give me a new report tomorrow, we had around-the-clock surveillance on AJ, we were about to map out Oliver Hansen’s work with the Langes, and we’d created a library of pictures that would help our cousins profile their targets.
I was ready for payday.
“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” I said, leaving my car. “We’ve done what we were supposed to do—and then some. I’ll send everything to Willow and update her whenever we find out something new, but otherwise…” I shrugged. “All we gotta do is wait for Darius’s call.”
Boone nodded with a dip of his chin. “It’ll be nice seeing him this week.”
Absolutely. He was driving here from Washington on Thursday—just him and his kids—with everyone else following this weekend. I didn’t know exactly how big their crew would be, but it sounded like several people would be involved.
The sound of a door opening had my attention, and just as I turned around, I heard Mom’s voice.
“You boys gonna stand there all day, or will you come inside and explain to me why Ace tells me her daddies are getting married?”
Welp.
Nerves tightened my gut, and I quickly snatched up the six-pack of beer from the back seat. Then I exchanged a brief, panicked look with my brother and dug out the scratch-off tickets from my back pocket.
“Here goes everything,” he muttered. “What if she doesn’t approve?”
That kinda calmed me down. She was our mother, for fuck’s sake. Of course she was gonna approve.
“She has to,” I replied firmly. “We’re her angels.”
Boone offered a dubious look and nothing else.
With the beer and scratch-offs in my arms, I took the lead and walked up the path to her house. “Hey, Ma. You look extra beautiful today.”
“Oh, cut the shit.” She had no problems accepting my gifts, but the ice in her tone would require more than that in order to melt. “Let’s talk in the living room.”
Fuck.
With those words, combined with the sound of Boone shutting the door behind us, I felt thirteen again. Even in our midthirties, we could shrink under Ma’s stare. Probably because she had the patience of a saint and rarely got really pissed.
Ace was waiting for us in the living room, and she jumped up at the sight of us. “Dads! I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
“You did nothing wrong, hon,” I said quickly. That was the last thing I wanted her to believe. “Boone and I just figured Gramma would never be mad at you, so it was better if you let something slip before we got here. Kinda like cushioning the blow.”
She blinked and plopped down in the middle of the couch again.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Ma exclaimed. “You threw your own daughter under the bus?”
No! Sort of!
“We didn’t throw her,” Boone replied defensively. “We very gently placed her under the tires.”
“Also,” I added quickly, “if you refer to yourself as a big bus in this scenario, you might suffer from internalized misogyny. You should work on that.”
Mom did a double take at me, eyes filled with disbelief, before she pinched the bridge of her nose and pointed at the couch. “Sit the fuck down.”
Boone and I sat the fuck down.
I swallowed hard as Mom started pacing on the other side of the coffee table.
Ace glanced up at me, then at Boone. “You’re kinda roofless, Daddy.”
Boone’s forehead creased.
“Ruthless,” I supplied.
“That’s what I said!” Ace snapped.
I nodded. Bad time to disagree with the women in our family. Bad, bad time.
“Let me get this straight, Casey.” Mom came to a stop and faced us dead-on. “The time I watched Paisley at the Venetian, you returned drunk—in the middle of the night—and slurred about Boone kissing you. Did that actually happen?”
I’d done what?
I widened my eyes and tried to search through my memories. But honest to God, that night was kinda fuzzy. I remembered we had a good time. I remembered going to a bar, then a club, and there was no forgetting the fantastic make-out session. But exactly what I’d told Ma when we got back to the hotel room was asking a bit much.
Apparently, Boone recalled. “Yeah, that happened.” He looked too somber for my liking. It raised my hackles—I couldn’t fucking help it—because Boone was supposed to be happy and carefree. “I don’t know word for word what Ace told you, but Case and I are together. I love him.”
As if I could stop myself from smiling at him now.
“I told her you’re getting married,” Ace said frankly.
“We don’t know that, sweet pea,” I cautioned her. “Marriage isn’t on our radar.” I flicked a glance at Ma and said, “There hasn’t been a proposal or anything. We haven’t even discussed it.”
“You don’t honestly think marriage is the issue here, do you?” she grated, annoyed.
Well, fuck. No, maybe not.
“My bad. I’m just sayin’.” Time to circle back to what Boone had said. “What Boone confirmed is true, though. And I love him too.”
Mom was still upset. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at the ground. “I fuckin’ hate this. I want y’all to be happy, but sweet baby Jesus, you boys are always kicking curve balls straight into my face. I’m your mother. And now you might force me to accept that one of you is no longer my child? I can’t do that.”
I furrowed my brow, confused as shit. “Wait, what? Why would—”
“Well, I don’t know the goddamn law on this, Casey!” she cried out. “Are you even allowed to have a relationship if you’re both legally my sons?”
A big breath gusted out of Boone, and his shoulders sagged. It looked like it was relief rolling off him, though that seemed too soon for me.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” he asked. “Mom—Christ—who gives a shit about a piece of paper? We haven’t looked into things either, but it doesn’t fucking matter. Case will always be your son, irregardless of what happens in official records.”
I grimaced. “Irregardless ain’t a word.”
“Focus, or I swear to God!” he yelled at me.
Both Ace and I jumped in our seats, and she crawled up in my lap.
The regret in Boone’s expression was instant.
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart.” I hugged her and kissed her hair. “He was
n’t yelling at you, you know that.”
“I’m not scared,” she whispered in my ear. “I’m gonna use it against him to get a cat.”
I pressed my lips together in a tight line.
Man, I loved this girl. She had potential. Brilliant mind, though she needed to learn that in a quiet room, even whispers were heard by those nearby.
At least Boone calmed down. He groaned a chuckle and scrubbed his hands over his face.
I scooted closer to him and told Ace to give Daddy a hug. It looked like he needed it.
“You can chill now, Daddy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and patted him on the head.
It was a sweet sight. I smiled to myself as Boone deflated and hugged her back.
When I glanced over at Mom again, I saw that the fight had left her too. The worry lines in her forehead were in full effect and her eyes were brimming with tears, but the anger had evaporated.
I walked over to her and squeezed her to me. “No one can take our relationship away from us, Ma. I swear to you, I’ll always be one of the two sons who give you grief.”
She laughed tearfully and smacked my arm lightly. “Grief and gray hairs.”
“That’s what’s up.” I smiled down at her and hoped everything was okay.
She could probably read my mind. “We’ll be fine, sugar.” She reached up and patted my cheek. “It threw me for a moment.”
I nodded. “I guess we’re good at that.”
“World champions,” she agreed. “One thing’s for sure. I’ll never be bored.”
I chuckled.
Yeah. We’d definitely be fine.
I didn’t know who was the most excited to see Darius that Thursday, Ace or me. Boone loved the man too, but he’d always been closer to Ryan and Jake, and Jake wasn’t with us anymore. He’d died in Afghanistan years ago.
Someone stepped out on the patio, and I looked over my shoulder to see Boone with a big platter of meat. Steaks, chicken, hot dogs, burger patties.
“Darius likes his steak rare,” I reminded him.
“I remember, you fuckin’ fanboy.” He shook his head in amusement and set the meat next to the grill. A new grill. We’d picked it up at Walmart today. Half-off, because some asshole had dented the lid.
The nerve of some people.
Music poured out from the living room, and I would’ve fist-bumped Mom if she’d been out here. She’d put on Cyndi Lauper. It was a mix CD I’d made her, so I knew it went “True Colors” and then “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” While I was hooked on the ’90s, Ma was addicted to the ’70s, but we met in the middle and loved ’80s music together.
She came out next and set a stack of plates in front of me, followed by silverware and napkins.
“You sure you don’t want me to help?” I asked. For the second time. Boone had called dibs on the grill, which evidently meant there was nothing else for me to do.
“No, you just sit there, sugar. I don’t want you ruining the side dishes.” She patted my head on the way back in again. Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence. “You can set the table and fold the napkins!” she hollered in afterthought.
“I guess it’s because you’re a really craptastic cook,” Ace mentioned casually.
I frowned at her and started setting out the plates. “The fuck you saying? You’ve never complained before.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed the napkins. “Heating frozen pizza and popping English muffins in the toaster isn’t the same as cooking, Dad. You’re great at heating up what machines made in a factory.”
Technically, I knew that was criticism, but she’d also called me great at doing what I was already doing.
Boone found her funny. “Don’t hold back, baby G.”
Ace scrunched her nose. “You’re hardly better.”
“Oh-ho!” I laughed.
Finding no support from our girl, Boone turned around and focused on the grill instead. Ace and I moved on too, and we decided to warm up for the barbecue by doing our best Darius impressions.
“Do the one from Easter last year,” I requested. “When he got so mad.”
Ace giggled and repositioned herself in the chair so she sat on her knees. And she puffed out her chest and tried to look all grumpy and stern. She was too fucking cute.
“That’s why you can’t trust the government,” she kinda…growl-scoff-mocked. “You know they’re just gonna grease one another’s pockets and grumble-grumble-grumble. It ain’t like they’ll get caught, grumble-grumble. It’s them against the people.”
I laughed and shook my head.
Boone left the grill and sat down across from us, which was when I realized he had a beer and I didn’t. What the hell?
“Your turn,” he told me. “Do Darius when he’s had a few.”
“Oooh, that’s a funny one!” Ace all but bounced in her seat.
I cleared my throat and took a deep breath, summoning my inner Ron Swanson. ’Cause that’s exactly who Darius was. This grouchy, forty-four going on eighty-four, misanthropic libertarian who claimed to hate everyone when, in reality, he’d die and kill for those he loved—and others. After all, he’d spent his life rescuing people.
“All right, all right, just hear me out,” I slurred. “Listen to what I have to say. Hear me out. Look—do I hate mankind? Yeah. But do I think they’re irredeemable? Well yeah, that too.” At that, Ace cracked up, and I used it. I grabbed her shoulder and swayed a little when I spoke. “Quit laughin’ at me. Hear me out—hear me out! Y’all just don’t listen to me. But one day, you’ll fuckin’ see. I’m right. I’m always right.”
Ace giggled madly behind her hands, her cheeks flushed, and Boone merely grinned at me.
Truth be told, I was expecting laughter. My impression was spot-on!
Then I felt the slightest breeze brush against my neck, and my body reacted as if a hurricane had just wrecking-balled its way through Nevada. I tensed up in my seat, warning bells went off, and I stared at Boone just as he flicked a glance somewhere behind me.
Fuck.
I swallowed. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
Boone’s grin widened, and he took a swig of his beer.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Heh.” I shifted in my seat to peer behind me, and sure enough, I was fucked. Mom and Darius stood in the doorway, Darius with an unreadable expression—which was his forte—one kid on his hip and another plastered to his side. “Hey, Darius. Long time, no see.”
Jayden, the eldest boy, looked to be around Ace’s age, and he was smirking a little. He stuck to Darius but didn’t strike me as shy, unlike the younger boy. Justin. He was about four and presumably autistic, according to Ma. He had noise-canceling headphones on.
“Let me know when the Casey impressions begin,” Darius drawled, walking farther out on the patio. “All I gotta do is cram a Pop-Tart in my mouth and mimic the vernacular of a ’90s Valley girl.”
“Oh!” What the fuck! I shot up from my seat. “That’s a big word for the Chuck Norris of Washington.”
He let out a laugh. “Being called Chuck Norris ain’t an insult.”
I scoffed and gnashed my teeth. I wanted to be a good host and not scare the youngest boy, so I put a lid on my box of stellar comebacks. “You know what? I won’t resort to childish games. That’s beneath me.”
That made pretty much everyone laugh.
Assholes, all of them.
Darius grinned and extended his hand. “Good to see you, kid.”
Yeah, yeah. “You too,” I grumbled and shook his hand.
Mom took over from there, running introductions of everyone at the same time as she ordered Boone and me to move out the table so everyone would have room to sit. Ace got to hug her “wicked cool” Uncle Darius, who had changed a lot from last year. He’d always had a spare moment for Ace, but having kids of his own now had softened him a bit. The two boys—and possibly the guy he was with—had smoothed some of the harder edges. It was nice.
While I grabbe
d an extra chair from the shed, Boone deemed the grill ready and began putting burgers and hot dogs on there.
I noticed Jayden eyeing the community pool nearby, and I encouraged Ace to show the boy around.
“Stay where we can see you,” I said.
Jayden flicked a quick glance at Darius, who gave him a nod and sat down with Justin on his lap. Then the two eldest kids were gone, and I asked Mom if she wanted help bringing shit out.
“No, no. You catch up with Darius.” She couldn’t help herself; she had to hug the man again. “It’s so good to have you here, honey. How are all your brothers and sisters?”
“Busting my chops as always.” He smiled.
Mom laughed and gave his shoulder an “oh, you” swat before returning inside.
“So you’re renting a house in Henderson?” I asked. “That’s what Willow mentioned.”
Darius inclined his head. “I’ll keep the boys with me till the others arrive, and then your ma will take over.”
Yeah, Mom already had plans for them.
“I take it Boone and I are on a need-to-know basis?” I had to admit, I was curious about the size of this operation.
“Unless you wanna join in,” he replied with a wry smirk.
I chuckled and showed my palms. “You know, I’m good. It’s been one hell of a month already.”
“Hear, hear,” Boone said.
“It’s for the best,” Darius agreed. “Y’all have done enough.” He paused. “Willow sends her gratitude. You’ve made her work a lot easier. I swear, every time she received a message from you, she got excited.”
That was good enough for me. That, and whatever we would get our hands on in AJ’s house.
“Anytime.” I meant that. This job had been fun. “I gotta ask, though. Who funds you guys? Whatever you’re gonna do can’t be cheap.”
He shrugged and peered down at Justin. The boy was visibly tired and more focused on fiddling with the buttons on Darius’s open shirt. The tee he wore underneath was from his restaurant. Quinn’s Fish Camp.
“Partly savings,” he answered absently. “An old friend is funding too.”