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“Not that you can tell me what to do, but yes. I understand.”
I knew that tone, and she’d most definitely learned that from JoJo.
“I’m serious, Lamb. I’m not assuming anybody did anything. But you said yourself they get off on violence.”
Her features softened. “I know.” She put her feet on the floor. “Can I go hang out with Mom and Marlow now?”
“We can take a break,” I said, though I desperately wanted to plow on. We’d gotten the basics, but Whitley and I had a lot of grunt work ahead.
Whitley waited until she disappeared before he opened his mouth. “Gut instinct?”
“I don’t have one. Except I don’t like any of it.”
“Me neither.” He set his legal pad on the end table beside him. “Who are we putting the doubt on? The mother? Or the guys?”
I ripped off my glasses. “Anybody it will stick to.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
JOJO
Penelope was pale.
I rushed toward her when she entered the Whitley’s kitchen, nearly tripping over Blake as he made a beeline for her as well.
“Everything okay?”
“It’s just a lot to relive. He’s dead. I-I don’t know why, but it’s just really hitting me now.” She picked up Blake, who raised his hand for another high five.
“My son has a crush,” Marlow said.
I’d found her to be a tough woman in the short time I’d been around her. I wondered what made her that way. But there was a softness about her when it came to her children and husband.
“Little Dude. I thought I was your best pal,” Patrick said, brushing his son’s hair as he moved toward Marlow. “Where’s the pizza? I’ve worked up an appetite.”
The doorbell rang.
Marlow stood. “I’ll get it.”
Patrick lowered his voice. “She has her own pizza. Don’t touch it. Actually, don’t look at it either.”
“She’s going to eat a whole pizza?” I asked incredulously.
“Probably. She does it when she’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant!” Blake shouted.
I snickered. He was adorable and seeing Penelope with him made me long for grandchildren. They’d come when the time was right.
I risked a glance at Kane. He had a strange look on his face. Was he thinking the same thing I was or wanting little ones of his own? He wasn’t too old to have more children. Having an adult daughter was different than a younger one, but he’d really taken to his role of father. I could only imagine what that would’ve looked like when she was a baby. I was still reeling after Penelope’s suggestion for a sister. That ship had sailed. Although what would it be like to carry his baby?
His gaze drifted to me. None of the warmth from earlier today was there. We’d made progress in resolving our differences, or at least it seemed that way, though it felt like we’d lost momentum and were free-falling.
I was still coming to terms with the idea of not only wanting Kane in my life, but . . . needing him. Regardless of the “disgrace” my mother thought that would bring to the family. He was the missing piece I’d never truly searched for.
Though I’d felt a hollowness. A loneliness. It had dulled once Penelope was my world.
Kane had brought it back into sharp focus . . . because the hole was shaped like him.
