Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“I, uh … I don’t. I mean, Calvin told me you were in the Southern Mafia. That was why I was safe here. I—he didn’t really know much else. He—he didn’t elaborate.” I swallowed nervously. “Was I not supposed to know?”
His shoulders eased, and he sighed. “I guess it’s fine. You’re living here. You might as well know. Just isn’t something that is shared. But you won’t be going anywhere to share it.”
“I won’t tell anyone!” I assured him. “Even when I’m gone. I … appreciate that I get to stay here. I wouldn’t do that.”
He smirked. “You can relax. Just don’t mention it to any of the others. Your knowing and all.”
He didn’t have to worry about that. I would never bring it up again.
“Hey! You’re making me a snack!” a male voice called out.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw the blond surfer-looking guy I’d met last night, but didn’t remember his name. I’d met a lot of them last night, and I hadn’t been in the frame of mind to let any of it stick.
“Yeah, right. Make your own fucking sandwich,” Forge replied.
The blond winked at me. “Hello, beautiful,” he drawled. “How’s this bunch treating you?”
He hadn’t been as flirty last night, although I caught him looking at me several times. Calvin had even whispered to me to just ignore him. He seemed friendlier than the others though.
“Good,” I replied, not sure how to respond to that question.
“I hope he at least made you a snack,” he said, making his way over to pull out the stool beside me and sit down.
“She made her own. Good thing because it’s fucking strange.”
My eyes shot over to Forge, who flashed me a teasing grin before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. There it was again. The smile. I was smiling.
“Strange?” the blond asked and reached over to open it up and pick inside.
“Jesus, Gathe, get your grubby-ass hands off her food.”
Gathe. That’s right. I remembered it now. Gathe Bowen. And he had a brother that he lived with, but I couldn’t think of his name. I hadn’t met him yet.
“Pickles and cheese?” he asked, then chuckled. “I might try that.”
I shrugged. “It is the only sandwich I will eat. My mom …” I paused as a pang hit my chest at the mention of her. “She, uh …” Whew, that hurt. “She used to make me these for lunch every day. I didn’t like the school cafeteria food.”
My eyes shifted from Gathe to Forge. His gaze was locked on me, and there was understanding there. He got it. He knew it was hard to talk about. I hoped he never had to talk about his mother in past tense.
“My mom made my lunch, too, because the cafeteria meals weren’t enough. I ate both,” Forge told me.
“Yeah, well, my mom wasn’t one to pack lunches. I just got two lunch trays,” Gathe replied. “And most of the time, I was with Dad, and fuck knows his ass didn’t make us lunches.”
The ease came in slowly, but I could take a deep breath again. They were making it easier. Hearing them talk, not seeing pity in their gazes, it helped. I didn’t want that. It didn’t make the truth any better.
“Slide me the bread, pickles, and cheese,” Gathe told Forge.
Forge rolled his eyes, but he shoved the items his way.
“All right, beautiful, let’s try out your creation,” Gathe replied and opened the pickle jar.
I looked from it back up to Forge, who was eating and watching me. I thought I might possibly make a real friend here. Being around him was nice. That realization was one I hadn’t seen coming.
Nine
Forge
Stepping inside my parents’ house still felt like I was coming home.
I’d grown up inside these walls, and it had been a real fucking good life. Sure, there was a dark side to what we did. But after those lessons, the preparation, the things that turned us from boys to men overnight, I could come home, and Mom’s smile made it all better.
She knew the nights that things were bad. Either Dad had prepared her or she could read the shadows in our eyes. There would always be a plate of brownies waiting. The ones with walnuts, which were Oz’s favorite, and the ones with fudge icing on top, which had been my and Kash’s favorite. Often, she’d be sitting in the living room, reading a book and waiting on us.
Shit we had taken for granted. Thought we would always have.
Until life decided to try and take it.
Kash appeared in the arched entrance coming from the living room. He had a cookie in his hand and took a bite. I’d known he was here. His truck was in the circular driveway. He hadn’t been at breakfast this morning, and I figured it was because he had come here. Neither of us had liked not being able to see her last night. But my evening wasn’t so bad. I’d found myself forgetting at times and enjoying the company.