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The door opens and Brantley is the first to step out. I freeze. Suddenly, I’m afraid he can read my mind, or even see I’m hiding a bump. Shit. How far along am I? Would it be possible to even have a bump yet?
He takes the steps up to me and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest while his hand is on the side of my head. “I’ve had about enough of people hurting you and getting away with it, Dea.” His tone is almost too calm for the words he spoke.
“I’m okay.” I smile up at him, resting my hand on his chest. “Because of the girls and Sam.”
Brantley grunts, his hand sliding down my arm and to my palm. After taking the test, Madison ran me a bath and Tillie cooked some food. I’m now in a pair of ripped boyfriend jeans that belong to Tillie and a Slasher shirt of Madison’s. I couldn’t find two of the same sides to wear but managed to find the perfect one from each.
I squeeze his fingers with mine until he looks at me from behind his shoulder. I always feel small beside him, but even more so when he’s angry. “I’m fine.”
He ignores me, turning back to face Bishop and Nate, who are jogging up the stairs. “Where is she?”
“We can’t get ahold of Sam. Hector is tracing him now, but while we wait—” Nate hooks his arm around Tillie’s neck and drags her into the house. “I need to fuck my wife.”
Tillie throws up deuces and they both disappear upstairs. Bishop and Madison still seem tense around one another, but the love they have for one another is louder than the way they hate each other. It’s what makes their relationship so real, seeing them this way.
“Hungry?” Madison asks, sidestepping away from Bishop and making her way through. We follow behind them and into the kitchen. The atmosphere feels heavy, as if Brantley is barely containing his anger.
The kitchen is at the rear of the house, adjacent to the main living room. The architecture is articulate and classy, with windows that overlook the greenery in the back yard. No pool. Though I didn’t suspect there would be, as it’s so cold here. Not an obvious cold, more of a comfortable one. As if the rain only trickles, not pours, just enough to leave a constant mist in the air. The kitchen is a loud red that makes me uncomfortable, and the stools that are tucked beneath the varnished wood counter are pulled together with cream leather. I’m not sure what she was thinking when decorating this area, but I’m assuming she wasn’t at all.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Madison fills the silence as Bishop and Brantley meet with whoever else they came over with in the living room. “This kitchen is ugly.”
“Maybe.” I stifle my laugh and watch as she pulls out a capsule from the fridge and pops it into a large bowl-shaped mug.
She pours cold milk over top and then places it into the microwave. “It’s your mother, by the way.” The microwave beeps and she takes out the mug. The smell hits me instantly. Cocoa, cinnamon, and honey. She slides it over to me while stirring. “She cared more about sex than she did about anything else.”
“Sounds amazing.” I widen my eyes at Madison and smile.
“One of a kind!” Madison mocks back.
I take the first sip and groan. The harsh notes of cocoa beans mixed with the sweetness of the honey and spices taste almost exotic, or something I should not be eating. Otherworldly. Forbidden.
“Right? They have the best chocolate ever in Perdita. You can’t get anything like their chocolate anywhere.” I place my mug down and rub my temples. I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel guilty for asking the girls to keep this secret from Nate and Bishop, and then I feel guilty for keeping it from Brantley and everyone, too. But I’m scared. I’m scared because Brantley and I are already so volatile. I just need to know if this volatility is something that is part of our relationship or if it’s a product of him not being happy about something.
Bishop enters behind us with Spyder. Spyder is Bishop’s first cousin and has dyed blond hair. They seem similar, but it’s not obvious unless they’re standing side by side or if you’re really looking. His brows are pulled in and Spyder shuffles beside him. Brantley is nowhere to be seen.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, sensing the unease between the two of them. This right here is another reason why I don’t think announcing I’m pregnant is a good idea. There’s too much going on.
Bishop pulls out a stool beside me and rubs his hands over his face.
“Bishop, spit it out, please. I can practically taste your emotions.”
