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“No, I meant like my father.”
“So, a chunky wiener,” Val says, and Ma-Poppy finally unleashes me so I can chase down my brother.
“We don’t fat-shame in this family!” she calls out.
“But the wiener thing was okay, right?” Pa-Emmett asks while I grab for Val, who slides on the muddy ground and punishes his balls by landing wrong.
“Ma, I don’t think Val’s giving you any grandkids now.”
“He can adopt,” she says instantly before throwing herself at my father. “You’re my hero.”
“Prove it.”
Once my ma jumps in my pa’s arms so he can carry her inside to loudly fuck, I instantly know we’re finding breakfast at a different homestead house.
“We’re fleeing!” I announce to Alexis as she scrambles to get out of the way of the parental foreplay.
Val limps his ball-damaged body along with us to Christine’s house, where Jared offers eggs and sausage. He’s very interested in the idea of Emmett’s hitman killing a member of the Blood Red Suns Motorcycle Club and starting a war.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve brawled with another club,” he says, stroking his thick mustache and staring nostalgically into the horizon.
“Should I be worried for your safety?” Alexis asks me.
Shaking my head, I can imagine no scenario where Duke McGraw goes to war over Cubby getting his ass handed to him by a middle-aged hitman. However, I can picture many situations where Tuesday makes that same hitman wish he hadn’t taken my pa’s call.
