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“What’s a big party?” I ask him.
“Why do you always ask about the Wild Ones?” Killian asks me, raising a suspicious eyebrow and not answering my question.
“Our agreement is that I grill steaks, and you tell me things.”
“Yeah, but not things that might hurt some of the other Wild Ones. George Malone is a cranky old fuck, but he’s still a decent guy.”
I roll my eyes. “Do I look like I want to hurt George?”
He lets his gaze rake over me warily before meeting my eyes again. “I dunno.”
I groan. “I don’t want to hurt George. I’m actually more curious about Kylie.”
“Kylie?” they both ask in unison, sitting up straighter as their bodies go rigid.
“I met her in LA. Nothing bad,” I tell them dismissively.
They relax immediately.
“We’re fucking with you. We knew you were into one of our girls, but we didn’t know which one,” Hale says through a laugh, and I glare at him.
“Though we did suspect Kylie, given all the Malone questions,” Killian adds.
See? The thing with the Vincents is that they want you to think they’re stupid. When really, they’re fucking brilliant. It’s all part of their camouflage.
“Now we know,” Killian adds with a smirk. “You move out here for Kylie?”
Again, see?
“How good are you at keeping secrets?” I ask them.
“Depends on how good you are at letting us help with the Malones when the time comes. And it will come. If you let us help you fend them off, then we’ll keep our mouths shut until you have the balls to go find Kylie.”
My lips curl in a grin. “You say you like the Malones, but you want to fight?”
“Not fight. Fuck with. There’s a difference. Well, fighting would be cool too. Been a long damn time since we had a good brawl,” Hale interjects, an excited look crossing his eyes.
“I sure as hell want a rematch now that we have Benson,” Killian says with a dark grin. “The odds will be better for us.”
Hale grins, then faces me again. “Anyway, we feel like bullies when we fuck with someone who doesn’t have the balls to fuck with us right back. Why do you think we let Benson be with our sister? He never cowed.”
“So you’re saying I should never cow to her family?”
They look me over. “Never. But you need backup. Kylie is the one female Malone. It’s obvious they’ll be protective,” Killian says.
Hale claps my shoulder. “But you have to do one thing for us.”
“Buy you a water cannon?” I ask, my lips twitching.
He punches my shoulder. “See? You’re already learning how this works.”
“Kylie doesn’t trust outsiders, so that’s going to be your biggest obstacle,” Killian offers.
I don’t tell him why she doesn’t really trust me.
“Why’s that?” I ask him instead.
“Her momma wasn’t from here. And her momma ran off and left them when she was young. Her momma’s brother wasn’t from here, and he was gone half the time—”
“Because he had other kids in Florida,” I say, trying to help out with that.
“Still gone half the time,” Killian says, arching an eyebrow. “And never came back after he and his not-Tomahawk wife left a few years ago. They only moved out here because Tom—”
“Thought it was Todd,” Hale interrupts, frowning at Killian.
“Who’s Tom or Todd?” I ask, confused now.
“The Malone boys’ daddy,” they both answer distractedly.
“I think it was Tom,” Killian states with a shrug. “Anyway, they moved out here because Tom’s sister—Kylie’s not-Tomahawk mother—was up here. Then when she left, they started staying in Florida more and more, leaving George to raise their four boys most of the time. When the boys became inducted into the Wild Ones, they had to change their last names to Malone.”
Hale nods like he’s agreeing with this.
“Kylie doesn’t trust any outsider to stick around. Not even Benson. And Benson has Tomahawk blood running through him now,” Hale adds.
“Kylie will always be firmly rooted here, even though she does travel some for her art,” Killian says.
“You guys know a lot about Kylie,” I murmur, narrowing my eyes as the two shits smirk.
“Our sister is friends with all the Wild One girls. We pretend not to listen when she talks, so she talks a lot more when she’s under the illusion we’re tuning her out. You learn things,” Hale explains with a straight face.
And yeah…this is my Tuesday.
People in Tomahawk don’t always knock, I’ve learned. Some do. Lilah always knocks. Benson too. But not Penny and not the brothers. Most of the time, not Bill.
Penny walks right into the dining room where we’re eating, and she pulls out a chair like she was invited. I just stand and grab her a plate, knife, and fork. She doesn’t waste time picking out a steak.
I’ve learned to cook extra.
“Glad I caught you at home,” she says, already cutting into the steak. “Lilah’s wedding is tomorrow. It’s last minute, but can you come?”
