“Isn’t it awesome?” Dad says. “She’s been sending them down there for the last three years.”
Sophia gasps, and I swear if she was wearing pearls, she’d clutch them like an old southern woman seeing someone wearing white after Labor Day.
“Better not mention the banana pudding then, huh?” Dad presses a kiss to my temple before walking away.
“What?” Delilah snaps, her eyes wide now that her favorite treat has been given away as well.
“I made one for here, too.”
“I didn’t get any last year.”
I look from her to Lawson, grinning as he leans down and whispers in her ear. Her cheeks turn pink, and by the time he pulls his head away, she can’t look anyone in the eye.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” I echo.
“What happened last year?” Colton asks, his eyes darting between the couple opposite of us.
“Well, those two…” Sophia begins, uncaring of Delilah’s apparent embarrassment.
I love my friend, but really, she needs to learn how to read the room.
“I also made peanut butter cookies,” I interrupt, drawing my friend’s attention off of Lawson and Delilah, “with crunchy peanut butter.”
Her favorite, even more so than the pie.
“They’re at your house?” Hope fills her voice, thinking the treats are safe.
“A few are left.” Mostly the ones that came out of the oven a little too crisp or oddly shaped.
“Perfect,” she says, appeased enough to finally bring her attention back to the plate of food in front of her.
“That pie?” Lawson asks as Drew steps into the room, the tail end of people making their plates. “Does it have cinnamon in it?”
I shake my head.
“Okay. Good, because Drew’s allergic.”
Using my fork, I scoop up some mashed potatoes. I’m not the least bit hungry, but I’d rather focus on the meal than any conversation pertaining to Drew O’Neil.
As much as I want to look away, I catch myself glancing up as he moves from one spot to the next, adding food to his plate. My heart breaks a little more when his eyes glance down at the empty spot beside his brother before turning away and walking right out of the room.
Chapter 20
Drew
“How was I supposed to know!” Legend snaps, his face masked with disappointment.
“Literally everyone was talking about them,” Thumper says, smacking his friend on the back of the head.
“And the chances of convincing her to make another one?” Legend asks.
“None,” Jinx mutters. “She only makes those pies at Thanksgiving.”
I don’t know if they’re purposely carrying on a conversation about fucking pie to annoy me because Izzy made them, or if it’s because they’re that amazing. I didn’t try one. I heard everyone whispering about the damn things, but I felt like I wasn’t deserving of anything she took the time to make. I’m in the same boat as Legend, only I’ve kept my displeasure to myself.
“Hey, Drew, think you can convince—”
Thumper smacks his friend again, and Legend doesn’t finish his sentence after they have a silent conversation between the two of them.
I’m pretty sure Isabella Roze Montoya would rather spit on me than talk to me these days. Not that I’ve tried. Avoiding her hasn’t been hard in the physical sense. According to Hound, she’s stayed pretty busy with schoolwork, even through the holiday to get ahead. Mentally, it takes everything I have in me to not go to her. I can’t even look at her house when I leave Lawson’s because I know if I catch a glimpse of her, I’m going to end up at her feet apologizing for being a piece of shit.
Today is like every other Saturday since Hound brought me out to the shop. The place is filled with Cerberus guys, several drinking beer and shooting their mouths off. A couple are focused on tweaking stuff on their bikes, but most are just standing around like they’re waiting for something.
I get my answer when Kincaid walks in. One clearing of his throat is all it takes for the guys to snap to attention. Silence fills the room as one by one the guys walk up to me, shaking my hand before walking out of the garage.
Emotions clog my throat, each slap on the back and sad nod sent my direction making tears threaten to fall.
I respect these men, respect the work they do, respect the way they live their lives, respect their integrity. Even Apollo walks up to shake my hand, the look on his face not one of satisfaction that I’ll soon be out of his way as I expected.
It takes probably five minutes for the men to shuffle through, leaving me, Lawson, Hound, Kincaid, Dominic, and Lawson’s dads Jaxon and Rob in the room. I know Shadow and Kid would be here right now if they weren’t working on something in town.
“None of us have any firsthand knowledge of what you’re facing.”
Kincaid’s words aren’t meant as an insult, but they still feel like a kick to the gut. Of course these guys don’t know what prison is like. They’d never lower themselves so far to end up there.
“But we know the type of man you are,” Dominic says.
“You’re the type of man willing to do something not many other people are capable of,” Jaxon adds.
“A good man,” Hound says, his voice hitching at the end.
Jesus Christ. Am I really going to cry in front of these men?
I look up, knowing these guys can tell I’m fighting my emotions.
“I question your actions from that night,” Lawson says, his voice filled with the same pain and sorrow sitting heavy on my chest. “But I’ve never questioned your integrity.”
Several grunts of agreement echo around the room.
“Monday may bring a different result than what we’re hoping for, so we wanted you to know how we see you. We know the man you really are, Drew O’Neil, and if the worst happens, I want you to know—” Kincaid taps his chest before waving his arm to indicate the other men in the garage. “—we want you to know that we’re proud of the man you’ve become.”
I don’t open my mouth to argue, simply offering him a nod, the motion a lie because I don’t feel the same. I’m not standing here proud. I’m crushed, devastated, and burdened by my choices.
“Thank you,” I manage, getting choked up as each one of them walks toward me, taking turns to shake my hand and clap me on the back in that bro-hug way.
Several throats clear numerous times, Lawson having to turn his back to me to get himself under control.
“So,” Kincaid claps after a long moment of silence. “Let’s go over the skills you’ve learned the last month or so.”
I spend the next couple of hours being tested on mechanics, machines, and even some electrical work as the other guys slowly begin to trickle out of the shop. When I pull off the welding mask, I notice Hound is the only one left in the room.
Despite what he said to me earlier in front of the others, I fully expect him to unleash his true feelings, that he’s glad I’m going to be gone, and Izzy is better off without me around.
Ready to agree with him, I frown when he looks at me with such warmth that the tears I managed to somehow hold back earlier, threaten again.