“Thank you,” I finally say.
He tilts his head and looks around me. I can feel my brother shift, but he doesn’t come out. Sean sinks down so that he’s balanced on the balls of his feet.
“Hey, Kaden, right?” he asks.
My brother leans around but stays firmly behind me.
“I’m Sean.” He holds out his hand. “A friend of Tinks and I help your grandparents when they need something fixed around the house.”
My brother trusts very few people. It took him days to warm up to the other bikers, and I have no idea how he’s going to react to Sean.
Slowly Kaden extends his arm and shakes Sean’s hand, then yanks it back.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sean says before he stands back up and looks at me. “Will you be in the rooms on the upper floors or just this floor?”
“Just this one.”
“Then I won’t open the upper vents.” He smiles. “It shouldn’t take long and I’ll be out of here shortly.”
“Thanks,” I say again as he heads out of my room.
There is something about Sean that’s almost comforting. It’s not that he’s big, which right now I equate with safety, or that he’s cute with the soft beard and bald head. Maybe it’s his eyes…warm and comforting just like melted chocolate.
What the hell? My mind must be really slipping. This is not the time to notice a handsome guy or his nice eyes. My step-dad is about to stand trial for murder of my mother and it’s going to take everything I have to get my half-brother through this.
Maybe it’s because I’m tired of being alone and would give anything to have someone that is there for me, that I can curl up next to for a short time for comfort or regain some energy and strength. Selfish, I know, but I’ve been going for months, almost on empty, trying to take care of my brother. It’s not his fault and I love him and I’d never leave his care to anyone else, but sometimes, it would be nice to have someone for me. I’ve got Uncle Tink, Destiny and my grandparents, but it’s not the same. They are all dealing with the fallout of this. While we are there for each other, we are still dealing with everything personally, and we’ve also been so focused on the trial that we haven’t really been much help to each other.
I am tired. Exhausted! There is no place in my life now for guys, but maybe I should make room for some chocolate. Molten lava cake, or a chocolate soufflé. Yes, that is what I really need. A few hours in the kitchen cooking and then after dinner is done, I’ll bake. Nothing releases tension better than time in the kitchen and with any luck, maybe I’ll be able to finally sleep. I don’t think I’ve slept since my plane landed six months ago.
Kaden slips his hand into mine when I glance down at him.
“Is it going to be over tomorrow?”
I know he’s worried about testifying. Hell, not just worried, but scared to death. “If they get a jury, you’ll be the first to testify and then you won’t have to go back.” I pray they get a jury. Once Kaden testifies he’ll be able to stay at home with Grams and Gramps until the trial is over. However, I’ll be there every moment of every day to make sure Gary pays. That ass killed my mother and I won’t rest until he’s sentenced, and hopefully to life in prison.
“I wish it was over,” he whispers.
My heart constricts a bit. “Me too.” Though, it won’t be over for a long time. Even with my step-dad in prison, my brother is still going to need help. Help that I’m not sure I can give. If I could shield him I would. But, I can’t protect him from what he already saw.
“What if they don’t believe me and they let him go?” my brother asks.
“They will believe you, I promise.” An eight-year-old boy should not have to be afraid like this. He should be worrying about making a baseball team or something like that. Except, my brother doesn’t like sports, other than soccer, but Gary had him on every team he could as soon as Kaden was old enough. My step-dad just couldn’t accept that his son would rather play the piano and he made Kaden’s life hell.
I sink down to my knees so that I can look Kaden directly in the eye. He needs to know that he is safe and will stay that way. “Your father will go to jail. But, if for some reason he doesn’t, I am still your guardian and he can’t get you back.”
“He can still find me.”
“Not if I take you back to Paris with me.” Not that I’ll be returning to Paris, but I don’t tell Kaden that. My life in Paris ended when I got the call telling me that my mom had been murdered. I hopped the first plane home and found a mess bigger than I imagined. A mess I’ve inherited. A mess I can’t abandon to return to my other life. A mess my Uncle Tink and Mom shielded me from. I can’t talk to her about it, but as soon as this is over, Uncle Tink has a lot to answer for.
“How about we head down and see what I can make for dinner?” I stand up. “We’ll tackle our rooms once it’s cool up here.”
He just gives me a nod. Kaden says very little and it worries me. Before Mom was killed, he talked non-stop when we connected on Facetime or Skype. At least he did when Gary wasn’t home. When his dad was in the house, Kaden’s conversations were limited to a few syllables, as if he were afraid to say the wrong thing.
Grams glances at me and Kaden as we come down the stairs and frowns. “Where’s Caroline?”
Pain slices across Gramps features. “She’s dead, Doris,” he says.
I know that Gramps has explained to Grams several times over the last six months but her brain won’t accept that her daughter is gone.
Grams frowns, light eyes clouded in confusion. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Remember, we lost her,” I say without reminding her of the real horror of Mom’s death.
At that, Grams brightens. “Oh, well I’m sure we’ll find her soon.”
It’s the same conversation we’ve had since I came home. Grams even chastised Mom at the funeral for being asleep when so many people had come to see her. That’s the first time that I realized just how far Grams had slipped. Mom used to tell me she was just having memory problems and it was to be expected at that age.
She sugarcoated and made light of Gram’s condition, just like she hid a lot of things.
“There you go, Mr. Dempsey.” Zach hands over the remote to my grandfather. “Just don’t hit that button and all will be good.”
I don’t know what Zach is pointing to, but at least the television is working again.
Grams slaps the flat of her hand on the small table by the window. “Sit!” she practically barks and picks her cards back up.
I hadn’t met Zach until today, when we got here from the courthouse, but Grams seems to love him. “He has the prettiest dresses,” she told me.
I’ve stopped questioning many of the things she says since most of the time it doesn’t make sense.
“We’re going to fix dinner while Sean gets air up to the rooms.” I walk through the living room and then their bedroom, former dining room. Kaden curls up at the corner of the couch and pulls an afghan up around him and stares at the television. It’s not cold in here. Not even close, but my brother cocoons himself whenever possible, as if he can protect himself somehow.
This kitchen is so old and has hardly any counter space, mainly because of clutter everywhere, just like the entire lower portion of the house, but Grams won’t let me straighten anything up.
Crossing to the opposite wall, I open the fridge to see what is available to cook, but it’s essentially empty. There is some fruit, cheese slices, milk, butter, orange juice, cream, eggs and bacon. All of it fitting on two shelves.
Inside the freezer is nothing but microwaveable meals. I’ll suffer through one tonight, if I have to, but I’m going to the grocery store the first chance I get. In the door of the freezer are three cartons of ice cream. Is this how my grandparents live and eat? If so, their daily diet is going to improve greatly now that I’m living here.
There is absolutely no meat in the freezer. Not even a pound of hamburger.
Had my gr
andparents gone vegetarian?
No, they have bacon, so why no other meat?
There has to be something to cook, but all the cupboards contain is cans of soup, tuna and spaghetti.
I close it and look around, mentally creating a shopping list. At least they have bread. I’ll just make up some breakfast. Tomorrow, I’ll make a real dinner.
Grabbing a skillet, I flip on the stove, but it doesn’t come on. It’s a gas stove, but there’s no pilot light and I quickly turn everything off and go to the doorway. “Gramps, what’s wrong with the stove?”
“Doesn’t work,” he answers.
“Why didn’t you get it fixed?”
“Nobody knows how.”
“Buy a new one.” How can anyone live with a broken stove?
“Too expensive.”
“I want to cook too.” Grams pushes herself out of her chair.
“It’s broken, remember,” Gramps says.
“Get it fixed,” she orders then sits back down.
Did Mom know how bad it was here, or did this all happen since she died?
Doing a slow turn I notice a microwave. Besides the toaster, it’s the only thing in here that can heat up food.
Returning to the freezer I open it and groan, then shut it again. I can’t eat one of those. Not today. Not ever.
Grabbing a discarded notebook, I lean against the counter and begin making a list. Not of groceries, but of all the things that need to be done around here. If I’m going to be living in this house, the stove needs to be fixed and if it can’t be, I’ll purchase a new one, along with an updated microwave. Hell, I’d love to renovate the entire kitchen but until I’m making more money, that isn’t going to happen.
Ha! Making more money. I’m not making any money. Kaden has taken up all of my time since I returned and I haven’t been able to leave him long enough to look for a job, let alone work at one, but I can’t continue to live on my meager savings since it’s almost gone.
About Jane Charles
Jane Charles is a USA Today Bestselling author who has lived in the Midwest her entire life. As a child she would more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand. In fact, Jane hated reading until she was sixteen. Out of boredom on a long road trip she borrowed her older sister’s historical romance and fell in love with reading. She long ago lost count of how many novels she has read over the years and her love for them never died. Along with romance she has a passion for history and the two soon combined when she penned her first historical romance. What turned into a hobby became a passion. In addition to historical romances, she has been pulled to write contemporary and began penning her new series, Baxter Academy of Arts. She intends to continue writing both historical and contemporary.
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Also by Jane Charles
Baxter Boys
Rattled: Rattled #1 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
Rattle His Cage: Rattled #2 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
All Horns and Rattles: Rattled #3 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
Shake, Rattle & Roll: Rattled #4 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
Rattling Around: Rattled #5 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
The Christmas Rattle: Rattled #8 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
Slightly Rattled: Rattled #7 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
The Rattle Box: Rattled #8 (Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled)
* * *
Baxter Academy
Valentine Wishes: The Legacy #1 (Baxter Academy Series ~ The Legacy)
Colors of You: The Academy #1 (Baxter Academy Series ~ The Academy)
Shadows of Memory: The Academy #2 (Baxter Academy Series ~ The Academy)
Casting Doubt: The Academy #3 (Baxter Academy Series ~ The Academy)
Between the Lines: The Academy #4 (Baxter Academy Series ~ The Academy)
The Tenacious Trents
Compromised For Christmas
Landing a Laird
A Misguided Lord
A Perfect Gentlemen
Devil in Her Dreams
A Lass For Christmas
A Reluctant Rake
Lady Revealed
Lady Disguised
Lady Concealed
A Tenacious Trent’s Wedding
Lady Admired
The Spirited Storms
Christmas Spirits
Ruined by a Lady
Weathering Captain Storm
Wiggon’s School For Elegant Young Ladies
To Walk in the Sun
Ghosts From the Past
The Witching Hour
A Gentleman’s Guide to Once Upon a Time
His Impetuous Debutante
His Contrary Bride
His Not So Sensible Miss
His Christmas Match
Muses
Her Muse, Lord Patrick
Her Muse, Her Magic
Her Muse, Her David
Her Muse, His Grace
Scot to the Heart
Courting the Scot
Shake, Rattle and Roll: The Baxter Boys #4 (The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled) Page 31