As sick as this sounded, Gnaw Bone Memorial Cemetery was pretty cool. When we were in high school, my friends and I, including Xenia, used to go out there and hang out all the time. On the side of a mountain, its views sweeping, and nothing around it, so its feel was serene. It was also the resting spot for folks who lived in our town before it was our town.
Old gravestones and unusual, old-fashioned names gave credence to local lore that said that Wild West gunslingers were buried here—along with whores, gamblers, and prospectors. Suddenly, I saw myself going to Carnal Library and talking to Faye Goodknight. I bet there were local history books at the library. And I bet if I read those history books, I could tell my nephew all about the history of the town where his mother was born and where he was, hopefully, going to grow up.
That thought cinched my armor together, snug, no chinks, no way to get through no matter how much of a dick my dad could be.
Ready for this.
Not surprisingly, we were not met with faces wreathed with welcoming smiles as Ham and I parked.
I ignored this as I gathered up the flowers Ham called in while I was getting ready and we swung by the flower shop to pick up. We got out of the cab and made our way toward the graveside complete with elevated casket covered in an ostentatious spray of yellow roses that pissed me off because Xenia hated yellow.
As Ham and I made our way toward the casket, I noted, if the look on his face was anything to go by, Dad was very not cool with my appearance at the cemetery. And if he thought he could get away with it, I figured he’d launch himself at me, grab my arm, haul me back to Ham’s truck, and forcibly shove me inside. Luckily, Ham was a bruiser and the pastor was there so Dad remained where he was and instead shot daggers at us from his eyes.
I avoided faces and concentrated on the not-so-easy trek through the grass in my spike-heeled pumps. I did this partly because I didn’t like these people but mostly because I didn’t want to lock eyes with my mom.
Dad, I hated.
Mom, any thought of her hurt me.
He was just a dick.
Mom, I didn’t get.
It wasn’t like, back in the day, I expected heroics, like her jumping in front of Xenia or me (mostly Xenia) and taking our beating. Dad was a big guy and Mom was an inch shorter than me and I wasn’t exactly tall. I could see why she wouldn’t do that because he’d just lose his mind, beat her down, and then haul off and wail on us anyway.
But I didn’t understand why she didn’t do something.
She had two sisters, too, and they were actually nice. Sure, they’d both moved out of state and stayed there but it wasn’t like Mom didn’t know how to drive a car or dial a phone.
Even if she felt their distance didn’t make them an option, I couldn’t fathom why she didn’t go to Mick. As cops go, he was pretty approachable and even back then, when he wasn’t head honcho, he was serious about his job and protecting the citizenry of Gnaw Bone. Everyone knew it.
Which took me to Gnaw Bone. I didn’t have any experience of other places but back when Xenia did what she did and again very recently, they kicked in for me. They were just that way. If they had to do it on the hush-hush, they would. Or if they had to go all in, they’d do that, too. Hell, when Nina got kidnapped, she’d only been in town for over a week, most people didn’t know who the hell she was, the ones who did didn’t know her all that well, and everyone went out looking for her, even me.
I could understand that Dad cowed my mother. He wasn’t just a big guy; he was a scary guy. And I didn’t have any experience being a mother so who was I to say.
I just thought any mother would risk something for her daughters.
Not stand at the graveside of one dead one and watch your other one that you haven’t seen or spoken to in nine years (and didn’t try) walk up without even calling hello.
“Zara, lovely to see you here,” Pastor Williams said meaningfully when we stopped next to the casket and my eyes went to him to give him a grateful smile. “Young man, welcome,” he greeted Ham.
Ham lifted his chin.
“If you don’t mind, pastor, we’d like to get this started. We’re already unfathomably ten minutes late,” my father cut in.
“Certainly, Xavier,” Pastor Williams murmured, looking down to his Bible.
I did a scan that was far from thorough and saw, first, my mother’s sisters weren’t there, and second, only about six other people were, which meant the ones my father were expecting had likely been there awhile.
That was when I knew the source of Mick’s information, considering Pastor Williams had delayed to wait for our arrival.
Therefore, if he wasn’t a man of the cloth, older than my dad, and I didn’t have my man at my side who I’d been waiting to be my man for years, once this crap was done, I’d kiss the pastor hard.
The service was short but sweet, seeing as Pastor Williams was a great guy, he knew Xenia, and he made it that way.
At the end, as he prayed, we all watched Xenia lowered into the ground, but even as my throat burned, I held it together.
“I’m sure Xenia would thank you all for coming,” Pastor Williams started and I felt Ham’s lips at my ear where he muttered, “I’m not.”
I successfully stifled a half-nervous, half-amused giggle as Pastor Williams went on. “As do I, Xenia’s parents, Xavier and Amy, and Xenia’s sister, Zara. God be with Xenia and God be with all of you.”
When he was done, I thought it safe to approach the opened earth and look down at those beautiful but inappropriate roses.
Then I tossed mine on.
Blood red. Her favorites.
Red. Means love, baby, she’d said to me once, a twinkle in her eye, still young enough to have hope for the future.
“I miss you,” I whispered to the flowers. “I thank God you’re finally at peace but I miss you, Xeens. Every freaking day.”
I felt a hand slide up my back and curl around my neck, warm and reassuring as I stood still, stared at those flowers, and said one last good-bye to my sister.
Then I felt warmth at my back and lips at my ear where Ham murmured, “You ready, cookie?”
“Just a second, darlin’,” I murmured back. The warmth at my back left but the hand stayed around my neck. I stared at the flowers and told my sister, “Got that, girl. Got that love, baby. Took a while. But I finally got in my life what the color of those flowers means. Wherever you are, be happy for me. I promise, we’re gonna do right.”
I said no more, waited for a wisp of wind that might be her reply, and got nothing.
It was disappointing but I had nine years of that, waiting for some sign that some part of Xenia’s spirit was still with me and not getting it. I was used to it by then.
I moved away and the instant I did, Ham curled his arm around my shoulders and tucked me close to his side. I wrapped my arm around his waist and we didn’t get a step before Pastor Williams stopped us.
“Zara, so pleased to see you here,” he said.
“Thank you, Pastor. I’m pleased I got the chance to come,” I replied. When his eyes went to Reece I introduced, “Pastor Williams, this is Graham Reece. Ham, this is Pastor Williams.”
They shook hands as Ham said, “Pastor. Folks call me Reece.”
“Fine, Reece. Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” Ham rumbled.
They broke contact and Pastor Williams looked to me. “I know this is not exactly a shock but it’s no less distressing. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. My door is always open if you ever need to talk.”
“Thanks Pastor,” I mumbled on a small smile.
He gave me a small smile back, nodded to me, nodded to Ham, and moved away.
I looked to my feet and muttered, “Hurry, let’s make a quick getaway.”
That was when I felt Ham go tight at my side and he muttered back, “Too late for that.”
My head lifted and I saw Dad approaching.
Really, he was handsome. He’d given me his blond h
air. Although his had since faded to gray in an attractive way. He’d also given me my brown eyes. He’d been built back in the day and he kept in shape, for an older guy. If you didn’t know what a dick he was, and he didn’t wear that fact on his face, he’d still turn heads.
Ham drew me closer.
“Zara,” he greeted. These were the first words he’d spoken to me in nearly a decade and his voice was ice cold.
I refrained from replying, “Maker of the seed that spawned me,” and just looked at him.
His eyes slid to Ham before coming back to me. “I see rumor is true.”
I said nothing.
For some insane reason known only to him, Dad kept talking.
“Also heard you’ve traveled a rough road lately.”
I kept my mouth shut.
His eyes again slid to Ham before they came back to me and I wasn’t surprised it didn’t take him long to show his true colors. “As always, you solve your problems in an interesting way.”
“How’s Zander?” I asked as a response to that vague slur on Ham and me and I was thrilled not only to get the supportive squeeze from Ham’s arm but also to watch my dad’s face blanch.
I scanned the attendees and saw Aunt Wilona standing with Aunt Dahlia and my mother, all of them with eyes on me. Aunt Dahlia’s her usual nasty. Aunt Wilona looked a bit anxious but, weirdly, when I saw her eyes shift to Dad, they turned nasty. Mom’s look I didn’t allow myself to take in and quickly turned my attention back to Dad.
“I see Aunt Wilona didn’t bring Xenia’s son to his mother’s funeral.”
Dad’s mouth got tight, his eyes went cagey, and his hands went into the pockets of his trousers under his suit jacket, likely to hide that they’d balled into fists.
“It’s rather fortunate I was able to solve my problems in an interesting way before I found out my nephew’s living close by,” I remarked and that was when Dad’s torso swung in.
Toward me.
“Zara, you better—”
“Watch it,” Ham growled and his menacing tone of voice even freaked me.
Dad’s eyes cut to him and I looked at him, too.
But Ham only had eyes for Dad.
Angry ones.
“You’re already closer to her than I want you to be. You get closer, say somethin’ I don’t like, the serious problems we already got escalate in a big way,” Ham went on.
“Are you threatening me?” Dad asked.
“No, we’ll let our attorney do that,” Ham answered. Dad’s eyes got big, and with Ham’s arm firmly guiding me, he stepped us to the side and took us forward, past Dad, and straight to the truck.
Ham’s gait was not swift, but it was determined as he got us the hell out of there. My heels dug in the turf but I managed to keep up.
He opened my door for me and helped me up before he swung it closed.
He was behind the wheel and we were on our way when I spoke.
“Do you think we should have exposed our hand early like that?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Maybe not. Don’t care. Seein’ that asshole’s face when you said Zander’s name and when I mentioned our attorney was worth whatever play we might have just given up, though.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. I didn’t get the chance to share that.
Ham asked, “You doin’ okay?”
I looked out the windshield and clasped my hands in my lap. “Crazy, funerals suck, but you can’t deny they give closure.”
“True enough, cookie,” he replied.
It was me who reached for his hand this time.
But when I caught it, it was Ham’s fingers that closed around tight.
* * *
“Fuck, Zara. Ride that,” Ham growled.
I was already riding his cock, bent over him, my face close to his, one hand in the bed providing leverage, the nails of my other hand scraping over his chest.
Ham had one hand to my hip, encouraging me with squeezes. The other hand was cupping my face.
When I went faster, he slid his thumb along my lower lip, then pressed into my mouth.
The instant it cleared my teeth I sucked it deep.
“Jesus, baby,” Ham groaned, his hips thrusting up.
Oh yes. I liked this. Now I was really riding him.
He slid his thumb out, then back in, and I took it again and again as I took his cock again and again and when I was whimpering against his thumb, he pulled it out and whispered, “Let’s bring my girl home.”
I knew what he meant and I wanted it.
Ham didn’t delay. He slid his thumb out of his mouth, his hand down my chest, between my breasts, over my belly, and in and that thumb I had in my mouth pressed in at my clit and twitched.
I slammed down on him, grinding, my head flying back, and with a breathy cry, I came. Hard. Beautiful. Loving it. Loving Ham.
“Ride me, baby, take me there,” Ham encouraged, his voice thick and jagged and I started up again, faster, harder, driving myself down on him through my orgasm, my fingernails digging deeper into his chest and one scored over his nipple. His hips thrust up, he wrapped his arm around my waist driving me down, and he groaned deep.
I bent closer as he came down and slid my lips from the base of his throat up his neck and along my jaw.
Ham wrapped me in his arms and pressed me closer before he turned his head and said gruffly in my ear, “Now that’s how I like my girl ridin’ me.”
I smiled against his skin, lifted my head up, and looked down at him.
“Though, just sayin’, you want it that other way, I’m always available meat,” he finished.
I felt the laughter bubble up and out before I rested my weight on him and pressed my face in his neck.
He started sliding his hands soothingly along the skin of my back, lifting one hand high, sifting it through my hair and then down over my skin again. I was glad to have this back. I loved this. I missed it. I hadn’t had a ton of lovers and Greg could be affectionate after sex for a while (in the beginning) but then he was done and it was done.
I’d even tested it in the past and Ham could do it for hours. I’d once fallen asleep just like this, my face in his neck, his hands giving me love, because he did it so long, after ages of that and an orgasm, I slid straight to dreamland, feeling his affection as I fell.
“Thanks for doin’ what you could to make a shit day less shitty,” I told his skin and his hands stopped so his arms could wrap around me.
“Take care of my girl,” was all he said.
He certainly did.
“It was cool of you to call Neens. She brought Becca and Mindy, and Arlene heard about it so she came over too and it was…” I paused. “It felt nice, Ham, to remember why life’s worth livin’. Good friends who care. A man who has your back.” I kissed his neck and whispered, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, cookie,” he murmured.
I lifted my head and looked down at him. “No more days off though. We need all the money we can get.”
I saw the white flash of his smile through the dark and he asked, “Are you bossin’ the boss?”
“Yes,” I replied immediately.
His hands came to my face and there was firmness, not humor, in his tone when he assured me, “It’s all gonna be good.”
“It’ll be better, I have more tips in my pocket,” I returned.
His hands brought my face closer. “Zara. I swear, it’s all gonna be good.”
I held his eyes in the shadows and said, “Okay, darlin’.”
“Now kiss your man and climb off. I got to see to things then we can get some shut-eye.”
“Okay, baby,” I replied, dipped my head, kissed him open-mouthed, and ended up not climbing off because Ham took over the kiss and rolled me so we ended it with me on my back.
Once he broke it, he dipped his head to touch his lips to my chest and slid out of bed.
I curled up facing the bathroom door counting it out.
We’d had forty-two hour
s of official togetherness and, notwithstanding outside factors, we were doing a little bit of all right.
Xenia had met Ham. She didn’t come to the bar, too much temptation, but we’d met him on the boardwalk one day and I’d introduced her.
She’d liked him. I could tell because she told me he was hot and that was pretty much all my sister needed to like a guy.
She would have liked him more if she got to know him.
Ham’s shadow entered the room and then he entered the bed and curled me into him.
Once I’d settled in, I told him softly, “Xenia told me she liked you when she met you but if she’d gotten to know you, she would have really liked you.”
He lifted a hand to my hair and sifted his fingers through, asking, “You love her?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Then I would have liked her, too.”
I closed my eyes and whispered, “There it is.”
“What?”
“You. Awesome… er.”
The last sound either of us made before drifting off to sleep was Ham’s laughter.
I liked that.
So much I wanted it every night for the rest of my life.
Chapter Twelve
Vaulted
Two days later…
“Let me get this straight,” Maybelline, sitting with Wanda at a table in my section at The Dog, started. “Five days ago, you wandered down the hall and gave your boss-slash-roommate a booty call. A booty call that was so hot that he got pissed off and then for some reason, you went to apologize to him and he yanked you into his bed again. You did the nasty again, freaked, and ran away. The next night he tells you, belatedly, mind, that he came back to town to commit to you. You accepted that and all is hunky-dory for a few hours. You have a scene at The Rooster, of all places, before settling down to sleep with your boss, roommate, hot guy, brand-new but old boyfriend. Then you find out your sister died, and girl, you know I’m sorry about that…”
She waited for my nod, I gave it to her, and she launched back in.
“And you find you got a long-lost nephew so you and your boss, hot guy, new-old boyfriend decide to sue for custody. You throw down with your Dad at a gravesite and now you’re livin’ the dream but with an impending nasty custody battle hangin’ over your head.” She paused before she asked, “Do I have all that right?”
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