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“Ruby insists the key to a good marriage is keeping moonshine behind the coffee mugs,” Mulaney explained, unscrewing the lid.
“Why the coffee mugs?” Muriella asked, and Mulaney shrugged, taking a sip straight from the glass container.
“Hell if I know, but she and Price have been married since time began, so I'd say it works.”
Mulaney passed the liquor to me, and I took a healthy drink, clearing my throat after I swallowed. “That's some strong shit.”
I held out the jar to my sister, who refused with a shake of her head, so I took another swig before I placed the jar in Mulaney's outstretched hand.
“Hey. Did y'all break into that without me?” Stone asked, sauntering into the kitchen. Mulaney played keep away with the moonshine for a second but eventually gave the jar to her brother. “That stuff will put hair on your chest,” he declared after he downed some of the liquid.
“Are you about ready for bed?” Muriella gave Stone a heated look. I was happy for my sister, but I didn't want to think about what she and her husband did behind closed doors.
“Been waiting all day,” Stone replied with a wink. Mulaney took a swig of the moonshine. “Good night, y'all.” He took my sister’s hand and led her out of the kitchen.
“And then there were two,” Mulaney said. “You sticking around or just here for the holidays?”
I hadn't spent much time with Mulaney, but I'd already learned she didn't mince words. Sometimes she was too abrupt, though I'd take that over evasiveness any day. “I'm here for as long as my sister will have me,” I said firmly, and she gave me a knowing grin.
“Imagine two grown folks relying on their siblings for somewhere to live. Never thought I'd be under the same roof as Stone again.”
“Neither of them seems to mind. I can’t say I’d feel the same if the roles were reversed.” Except I had no home. I hadn’t for a long time and certainly would never have brought Muriella back to the house of horrors.
She swiped the moonshine from my hand and drank. “Why haven’t you had anything to do with your sister until recently? She seems pretty damn happy to see you.”
My stare was hard, but Mulaney didn’t cower. “For reasons no one should have to understand.” I stole the liquor back and poured some of it down my throat.
“Better take it easy. That stuff will catch up to you in a hurry. First time I had it, I thought I was such a badass. Got into a drinking contest with the boys. I won, but that shit made me so sick, it almost put me off liquor for good. Ruby made me drink some of it the next day. Turns out she knew how to cure a bitch of a hangover,” Mulaney said, and I snorted.
“Then leave some of it for tomorrow.” After one more sip of moonshine, I wiped my mouth with the back of one hand. “And then there was one.”
“You're quitting on me?” she huffed.
“Yep. Good night, and thanks for the drink.”
My body was warm as I ambled toward the bedroom. Once inside, I closed the door and locked it out of habit. That wouldn't keep anyone out, but it could give me enough time to prepare for an intruder . . . except I wasn't in immediate danger anymore. There were people out there who wished me dead, who were looking for me, but they didn't know I was here.
I went to my bag and pulled out a Glock, ensured it was loaded, and then stashed it under the mattress, where it was within easy reach. Quickly, I undressed and climbed into bed. I said a prayer for Mama and my sister, just as I did every night before I went to sleep. God wouldn't listen to a man like me, yet I did it anyway.
Holly and Gabriel flashed into my mind. Gorgeous blonde hair and troubled green eyes. An energetic little boy, who was curious about the world around him. I was compelled to say a prayer for them too.
With my eyes closed, I waited for sleep to overtake me, but my soul was restless. Behind dark lids, there was smoke and fire. I smelled the stench of death, a sea of corpses all around. None of them had a face I recognized, but I had killed them all—some with bullet wounds, others decapitated or sculpted with my blade, and yet others choked with rope. I'd been an equal opportunity angel of death. When I had the time, the punishment fit the crime. When I didn't, it was a gun or a knife.
My eyes snapped open. I couldn't take it. There were too many bodies to count. I'd done it all in the name of justice, but what if I'd needed to sate something sick inside me? What if I was as evil as my father, just in a different way? In place of the relief I had immediately felt after ridding this world of him was this sense of being lost. I'd accomplished what I'd been plotting for over twenty years. Now what? Did I actually have a future worth living? No. I wouldn’t think that. I’d paved the way to live, and it was time I worked out what that meant.
Chapter Eight
Holly
People fucked.
It happened. Right this very second, somewhere, it was occurring. Not to me, but for somebody it was. The closest I’d come to the word in a very long time was when I thought it, but even inside my head, a five-year-old chastised me. For the first time in nearly six years, a man had me thinking about it . . . a lot.
Mere hours after meeting Carlos, a man who oozed sex like it was his job, sex was all I could think about. And it had to stop. I was a single mother with a son who depended on me. I'd already wronged my boy by sleeping with the man who was his father, a man who was nothing like what I'd believed him to be. Cruel. Callous. A first-class jerk. It was a mistake I'd repeat again because I had my Gabriel, who thank God was nothing like the man who’d created half of him.
Gabriel was my reason for living, the brightest spot in my world. There was nothing I wouldn't do for my son, nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice. He hadn't chosen to be here. Gabriel was innocent, and I wouldn't punish him for circumstances he hadn't created. Bless his sweet soul, he thought our situation was normal. He hadn't suffered because there was no man in his life, but the way he’d been curled up next to Carlos earlier, his bright eyes drinking in everything the stranger had said and done . . . I was worried.
Gabriel wasn't the only one who Carlos had dazzled. I'd never seen a man more stunning. All black hair, cinnamon skin, dark eyes . . . everything about him blared TROUBLE in red flashing lights. I'd fumbled all over the place like a tongue-tied teenage girl.
