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“Benjamin James, it’s my sister,” she says, turning around and putting her hands on her hips, annoyed with her boyfriend. I watch Hattie sit back with a smile like she knows what’s about to happen.
“Then let your fuckin’ sister breathe, babe. God, you don’t see me tackling my fuckin’ brother every time I see him.”
“That’s because the Colemans communicate in head nods and fist bumps. The Turner girls communicate in hugs and squeals.”
“She’s totally right,” I say, nodding at Ben. “That’s how we communicate when she’s not laid up in a hospital bed dumping world-rocking information on the room.”
“Just wait until you knock her ass up, Ben. Give her some girls, your house is just going to be chaotic screaming,” Hattie says with a devious smile. Ben gives her a glare that I’m pretty sure any normal person would be afraid of.
But then again, I don’t think Hattie is a normal person.
“Who’s this guy?” Ben asks with a tip of his head at Dante. I look at him, and my eyes give him the up to you look.
He looks back at me with a, You trust them? look.
I nod.
He smiles.
“Oh my god, that is so fucking cute,” Hattie says under her breath, watching our silent conversation.
Dante steps forward, putting one hand to my lower back in a way that is unmistakably not just a friendly move.
“I’m Dante. Lilah’s husband,” Dante says, putting his hand out for Ben.
It’s at that exact moment that the room erupts in absolute unhinged chaos.
THIRTY-TWO
-Dante-
“So that happened quick, yeah?” the big, tattooed man says as he sets up his station. It took nearly forty minutes to calm Lilah’s sister enough to go over what all has happened in the last three months. Then another hour to explain everything and another thirty minutes for Lilah to convince her sister that while her mission might sound dangerous, it’s really not and we have it under control. That last one was a half lie because no matter how much I try to fool myself that this and Delilah are safe, we all know what we’re trying to do has its risks.
“Yeah, well . . . when you know, you know,” I say. I don’t necessarily feel like I need to explain myself to this man who I’ve never met and my wife has only met one time before, but I also know that family is important to Lilah.
The big man who is about to put a needle to my skin gives me an incredibly skeptical look.
He’s buying none of it.
“Is Lilah in some kind of trouble? Lola worked her ass off to keep her out of all that shit—”
“Lilah does what she wants,” I say, cutting him off. Ben snorts and tips his head as if he understands.
Lilah always made it seem like her sister was sweet, down to earth, and, if anything, a bit of a pushover.
But from this small exchange, I can almost guarantee Lola got some of their mother’s stubbornness too. I can see a brother in the trenches.
“Her sister is the same way,” he says, confirming my thoughts. I smile. I can work with common ground. “Drives me up a fuckin’ wall but can’t say I hate it all the time.” There’s a smile that I also recognize but I sure as fuck will not be sharing war stories with this man.
“This good?” he asks finally, showing me the tablet, and I nod.
It’s better than good.
It’s perfect.
The man took 30 minutes with what I told him and is showing me a damn work of art.
“Great, man.”
