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“Inferred it.” I’m feeling better now, breathing easier, and I walk a little closer, back towards the chair. Looking at Connor, the words I wanted to say earlier reach my tongue. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asks calmly. He definitely knows the origins of my apology.
Feels like a Cobalt test.
I just let it out. “For Beckett.”
Connor stares straight through me. Like he can see every organ and blood cell inside my body. No way that’s possible, but if someone had X-ray vision, guess I’d say it’d be him.
He knows I’ve tattooed his son.
He knows I’ve been Beckett’s friend.
He knows we were friends.
He’s never put up a stink about it like I’m a bad influence. Never scolded me. Never condemned me. And now, his wife hates me, and he’s still looking straightthrough me.
Connor never blinks. “Next time you have pertinentinformation regarding my children’s safety and you don’t tell me until it’s too late, Rose will be the least of your worries. Understood? Or do you need synonyms forpertinent?”
“I know what it means,” I breathe. “I’m going to make things right.”
“You were talking about your mom’s family.” Connor places me back where I left off. “They disowned her.”
“Because she had you?” Lo says.
“Yeah.” Still standing, I bow forward, resting my forearms on the chair. I sift through the cigarette pack. “My parents were teenagers when they had me. Mom was fourteen. Dad was also fourteen. Her family didn’t like that she got pregnant so young. They just abandoned her.”
“Where’d she live?” Lo asks, his frown crinkling his brows.
“With my dad. His parents took her in.” I stand up straighter. “She’s in prison, so I’d rather just leave her out of this, if that’s okay?”
“It’s fine,” Connor says, swiping through the tablet.
Lo is searching me, and I’m avoiding.
“We ready?” I wonder and check the time on my cheap black watch.
“Why don’t you like your Uncle Raff?” Lo questions, back to that.
“I didn’t say he was special or anything.”
“Call it ahunch.” Lo is trying to hold my gaze, and I’m still looking away. Staring at nothing in particular.
“My memories of him are foggy.” I take a beat, and both Connor and Lo are quiet, letting me try to unearth the past. “Of what I know, Uncle Raff didn’t like his older brother Bobby much. I’ve heard Bobby was hard on Raff. Maybe picked on him, bullied him. Bobby only had two kids—Sean, who’s my dad, and then Scottie, and once Bobby died…”
I see my dad cowering. He’s a teenager. I hear a loud clattering noise, but I blink into focus, just as Lo speaks.
“Raff bullied your dad and Scottie?”
“Nah, not Scottie. He was too little. He’s only three years older than me,” I remind them. “With Bobby gone, my dad became the man of the house. He dropped out of high school. Got a full-time job at the Quickie-Mart. I think he might’ve sold pot on the side. Meth came later, but it ate away their money. It didn’t make them richer.”
Connor runs a finger against his temple. “If Raff dislikes Sean, and Sean is the ringleader, then is it likely Raff isn’t a part of the stolen Jeep or the assault or anything to do with our families?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know if my dad’s even the ringleader or not,” I tell them. “He’s the one who mostly cooked meth, and like I told Lo, it’s mostly for themselves. They weren’t big on dealing to outsiders when I was around.”
“But they needed money?” Connor asks.
I nod again. “I wasn’t involved in that though.”
