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My mother raises a hand. “No, dear. Absolutely not. Jim and I are living here rent-free, you’re gifting us a cottage, and I need something to keep my hands busy. I won’t accept any payment.” My mom bounces in place, excitedly. I recognize that I do the exact same thing when I get excited about a project.
Triple comes sniffing into the kitchen like a bloodhound. “What smells so good in here?”
My mom flashes him a big smile. “Egg Bake, dear. Grab a plate and dish up.”
It’s not long before word of my mom’s cooking spreads throughout the house. The guys come running in to fill up on breakfast goodness.
Candy rolls into the kitchen looking worse for wear—she must have hit the bottle hard again last night with Red—but at least she’s wearing a robe to cover her usual morning nakedness. Maceo has threatened her more than once to shape up or ship out. It looks like she might finally be getting on board. She shuffles past my mom to get to the coffee maker.
“Oh,” my mom squeaks when she takes in Candy and her nest of pink hair. She reaches out and starts to comb her fingers through the mess, startling Candy.
“Oh, dear, this won’t do. You can’t walk around with your hair all wild like this. Come along. We’re going to brush through this mess and tame it into something presentable.”
My mom grabs Candy by the hand and starts tugging her out of the kitchen. Candy gives me a desperate look. I raise my hands and shake my head—the universal sign for ‘you’re on your own.’
Better her than me.
Once my mom gets something in her head, it’s impossible to stop her. She’s already decided that Candy is going to be her human doll for the morning, and I’m not stepping in to take Candy’s place.
Deciding to skip defensive training, Maceo and I grab a plate and join the rest of the family at the banquet table. As we eat,Highway to Hellbegins playing super loud through the house.
“Who the fuck is blasting the stereo?” Gauge hollers.
Chase chuckles as he stands from the table and makes his way to the front entry. “I switched out our generic doorbell for something way cooler. I’ll go answer the door.”
All goes silent and we look at each other uneasily. It’s clear that no one is expecting company. The front gates are currently open for the construction crews to get in and out, meaning anyone could come onto the property.
“Maybe it’s one of the workers looking for Jo?” Flay suggests.
Gauge wraps a protective arm around Opal. “No. They would call her or walk on in—they know they don’t need an invitation to enter our club.”
Maceo gets up and starts moving to one of many secret compartments hiding firearms. He’s already has a pistol in hand when we hear the door open.
“Sweet Jesus,” Chase drawls.
Maceo stalks to the door with Punk and Gauge behind him, ready to help out.
“Are you just going to stand there ogling me like a creep, or are you going to let me in and help me with my damn bags?”
I freeze, recognizing the familiar, sassy voice.
Maceo rounds the corner with his men, guns drawn.
“Holy hell!” the voice squeaks in fear.
I’m on my feet and running for the door, skidding into Punk’s back. “Stay back, sis. Some prissy-looking chick is here.”
“Excuse me! What did you call me, limp dick?”
Punk snorts. “Hardly limp. And if you weren’t such a priss, I’d maybe consider gracing your presence with it.”
I push him out of the way. “Punk, shut up!”
Maceo throws his arm out in front of me, preventing me from going to our visitor, but I can see her.
She looks exactly the same as the last time I saw her. Shoulder length sandy-hair styled straight and professional. Form-fitting dress clothes to show off her killer curves and narrow waist. Skyscraper heels adorn her feet and give off a ‘don’t screw with me attitude.’ Her oval face is artfully done with flawless makeup and pulled into a tight expression, clearly showing how irate she is. And her gray almond-shaped eyes are forming storm clouds and throwing lightning bolts.
“Simone,” I greet my sister.
