“Auntie! Come play!” Will called from the floor.
He was just what I needed to snap me out of my conspiracy theories. They could wait, and lately, time with Will was something I didn’t get very much of. The thought was frightening as I remembered a few kids I’d never see again.
“Okay, dude. What are we playing?” I asked as I lay down beside him on the carpet.
We played on the floor of Gram’s living room for over an hour before Will started to get cranky. I was trying to give Callie and Grease some time with Gram, but the kid didn’t want to hang with me anymore, he wanted his mom or dad.
He must have known something was going on. There was no way he’d missed the way his parents were barely holding it together. If you didn’t look very closely it seemed as if Grease was unaffected, but Callie was no good at hiding her emotions, she let them fly. Both of them were hurting, that couldn’t be ignored, even by a two-year-old. Especially by a two-year-old.
It felt like sadness was sucking all the air out of the apartment as I watched Gram stand behind Grease, rubbing his back and speaking to him softly. He was nodding, his head bowed to the table in front of him, and beneath the table I could see Callie’s hand gripping his thigh. I hurt for them.
I followed Will into the kitchen and watched as he climbed onto Grease’s lap, laying his head against the leather-clad chest as Grease wrapped his arm around Will’s back. In that moment, I was suddenly really, really glad that my best friend and her son had finally gotten their happily-ever-after. Even if it wasn’t very happy at the moment, their bond was a sight to see. Maybe it was the time I’d had to get used to things, or the way Callie immediately stood from the table and wrapped her arms around me, assuring me that she still needed me, but my resentment was gone.
I held my best friend close, letting her cry into my shoulder, and wished that I hadn’t craved her attention. It wasn’t the way I’d wanted her to need me.
“When do you work this week?” Grease asked me as I let go of Callie and started following Gram around the kitchen.
It looked as if Gram was prepping for Armageddon as she pulled jar after jar out of her fridge and cupboards, getting ready to throw together a whole basket of food for Tommy and the guys at the club.
“Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday,” I replied, widening my eyes at Callie as Gram continued to pull food out.
“I’ll come and give you a lift.”
“Nah, it’s okay. Cody got my car fixed, so I’m good,” I answered offhandedly, oblivious to the way everyone had grown quiet.
“I’ll drive you to work, Farrah.” Grease’s tone had me spinning to face him. “We’re being careful. None of you are going anywhere without one of the boys.”
“What the hell?” I asked, my voice breaking at the end. “What are you guys not saying?”
“Not sure how that fire started yet—”
“Holy shit.”
“Just taking some precautions,” he assured me.
Wait a second . . .
“Where the hell is Cody?”
“It’s club business, Farrah. Your man didn’t tell you, you don’t rate the info,” he replied unapologetically.
“That’s bullshit!” I yelled.
“Farrah!” Gram hissed at me. “Knock it off. You know how those boys work. Quit harping on Asa.”
“Et tu, Brute?” I gasped, glaring at Gram. “Screw this, I’m outta here.”
I was too pissed off to notice or care that I was being an ass to Gram. I felt for them, I did, but fuck if I would just go blindly along, minding my business, with no idea where Cody was or what the hell was going on. It wasn’t like I was going to go all vigilante and do something stupid. I just wanted to know where we stood in the shit storm that seemed to be billowing up around us.
I slammed out of the house as Grease ordered me to stay in the apartment, flipping him off as I went. My apartment was close and I got there within seconds, but I didn’t realize that there was someone sitting at my doorstep until I was almost on top of him. My heart stuttered in my chest as I stumbled to a stop.
I began to take a step back, Grease’s warnings blaring in my head, when the guy pushed his hoodie off his head and looked up at me. What the fuck?
“Who the hell are you?”
Chapter 16
Farrah
“Are you Farrah?” the kid asked, climbing to his feet. I took a step back as I realized he wasn’t as small as I’d thought, and looked at him suspiciously.
“Who . . .? Oh shit, you look just like your dad,” I whispered.
“You know my dad? I tried to go home and—” His voice broke and his hands clenched into fists. “Our house was gone. Can you call my mom?”
“What’s your name?” I asked again, horror building with a sense of recognition.
“Cameron,” he answered. “Is Casper here?” He leaned to look over my shoulder, but I knew no one was behind me.
Holy shit. Holyshitholyshit.
“He’s not here, dude,” I told him, the words coming out garbled as my mind raced. “I don’t have your mom’s number, but Grease is a few apartments down. Why don’t you come in and I’ll call him?”
He stepped aside so I could move into the recessed doorway, and my hands shook as I fit my key into the lock. What was I supposed to do? In a few minutes, this kid’s entire world was going to implode and he had no idea. Shit, how old was he again? I couldn’t remember, but I knew that he must be big for his age. He couldn’t have been older than twelve, but he was already a little taller than I was.