I sat straighter. “Are you giving me life advice?”
“If you want to hear it.”
Leaning back in the chair, I grinned. “When did you become so worldly?”
“I think since I was born,” Ruby said, her back straight and legs crossed at her ankles, reminding me of her mother. “I know you all see me as a kid,” she went on, “but when we first got here—when Mom got here, too—it was like a faucet opened inside of her or a dam broke. She had so many memories, things she’d packed away.” Moisture glistened in her eyes. “I love her, and yet I didn’t know what to say to her or what to do.”
“I’m sure just having you here,” I offered, “and knowing you and she were safe—”
Ruby shook her head. “No, it was all Patrick. He got to her. I mean they hadn’t been together in seventeen years and he...” She grinned, taking a deep breath. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t want details of what he did. I just know my mom. I know that never before in my life had she been anything other than...perfect. It probably was what Andros expected. No matter why, I never saw her cry or get upset. I saw her try to hide her fear when she was scared, but no matter what, she was always in control of her own emotions. She used to say that only you have power over yourself. Of course, I didn’t know what had happened through her life.”
Madeline’s past was a complicated story unto itself.
“Ruby, it wasn’t your burden to carry.”
“I know that. I also know that when my mom finally allowed herself to remember and feel, the memories threatened to drown her. There were so many that they were overwhelming, taking her down an emotional spiral she may not have come back from.”
“No,” I said, “your mom is strong. She’s a survivor.”
Ruby reached over to my knee. “So are you, Lorna. Aunt Araneae told me about Mason, that for years he was gone. She even mentioned a sister who you lost when you were young. And through it all, you survived. I know Mom’s story is different, and she chose not to face her memories. Your loss of memory isn’t a choice. Which is...” —she shrugged— “maybe worse because you can’t decide when they will come back.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“But please,” Ruby implored, “if and when your memories do come back, grab a life raft. Hold on to Reid, or” —she motioned toward the kitchen— “anyone in there. This place is super weird.”
I scoffed. “Weird?”
“Yeah, it’s like we’re all family. Every one of you rallied around my mom even before she was ready to tell you her story. But everyone has a story. I mean, Uncle Sterling thinks he rules the world. Patrick enables him. Aunt Araneae has, like, dozens of names. Laurel is some kind of genius. Reid can do anything on a computer. I bet he’s a whiz at hacking. And your brother was an assassin for hire.”
I shook my head at her voicing what was never meant to be uttered. “Ruby, we don’t—”
“I’m not dumb,” she interrupted with a grin. “I think it’s all cool, and I know not to say anything. I mean, I may be young, but after growing up in the Ivanov bratva and moving here, I pick up on more than the average eighteen-year-old.
“No one in this tower has lived an unscathed life, even me. I still sometimes think of watching Oleg die.” She forced a smile. “That’s what makes it” —she paused and looked around the luxurious room— “perfect. Because people here accept things that others might not. No matter what you remember or when you remember, everyone here will still love you.”
Her words prickled my skin and brought unshed tears to my eyes. Listening to her wisdom, it was easy to forget I was speaking to a teenager. Her life truly had made her wise beyond her years. “I’ll remember that. Right now, I really don’t remember.”
“When you do, don’t do it alone.”
Madeline came around the corner with a sigh, a kitchen towel in hand. And with the light from the archway, her baby bump appeared more like a round beach ball beneath her sweater. “Is everything all right?”
I smiled. “I’m getting great life advice from Ruby.”
Madeline’s head tilted to the side.
I reached for Ruby’s hand. “Thank you.” As we stood, we reached for one another and embraced. I stifled a small wince as she applied pressure to my sore muscles.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry,” Ruby said as she hurriedly stepped back.
“Ruby Cynthia,” Madeline corrected.
“Mom, update, I’m an adult. Adults say shit.”
Araneae and Laurel came from the kitchen.
“What do adults do?” Araneae asked.
“Cuss,” Madeline and I said together as Ruby repeated, “say shit.”
Araneae’s hand went in the air. “I do.” Her expression changed. “Wait, am I the aunt who’s a bad influence?”
Ruby went to Araneae and wrapped her arm around her waist. “You’re my only aunt, so I think that makes you the best influence.” She turned her blue eyes to her mother. “And don’t get mad at Aunt Araneae. I learned all the cuss words from Andros, others at school, and...well, life.”
Madeline laid her hand on her midsection and smiled at Araneae. “Maybe we can work on not saying them as much for these next little ones.”
“I know, we can have a cussing jar,” Ruby volunteered.
Araneae smiled. “Great idea. Now, is it possible that I could arrange an automatic thousand-dollar deposit the first of each month and call it even?”
“It’s only a dollar a word,” Ruby explained.
“Well, fuck” —Araneae’s hand flew to her lips— “I better make it two thousand.”
Laughter, unforced and natural, filtered through the penthouse, a comforting melody to remind me of our shared connections.
“Did I miss dishes?” I asked.
“All taken care of,” Madeline said. “And we started a big pot of chili for lunch. I guess we can all rest.” She looked around. “Or do schoolwork, or work-work.”
Araneae’s and Laurel’s technology was already upgraded for safety as they both had work outside the tower that they needed to access.
Rest.
A sigh escaped my lips as I turned toward the glistening waves of Lake Michigan, suddenly dreading spending time alone.
“What is it, Lorna?” Laurel asked.
“A lot of things. I wasn’t going to say anything” —I winked at Ruby— “but a friend just gave me some great advice. Would you mind if we talked for a little bit? Or do you need to do work?”
“Let’s go downstairs. My place or yours?”
“Yours would be good.” I peered around the penthouse. “I need a change of scenery.”
Reid
My steps staggered. “He died six years ago?”
Mason’s complexion paled as he dropped into his chair and laid his head back against the leather. “This is all on me. I brought the Order into this world. How in the fuck did I think they’d let me go?”
Sparrow took a deep breath. “We need to deal with this. But right now, I have to get to the office. Hell, I’m already behind on meetings. Shit doesn’t stop just because more is coming our way. It just piles deeper.” He looked at Mason. “Get this pity-party shit out of your system because we need you. We need your understanding of the Order and what we’re dealing with. We have the DNA of a dead soldier who obviously missed the memo of his death.”