“They were exceedingly conservative, Bible-thumper types, colder than your Alaska winters, and more judgmental than Judge Judy.” She set her mug on the ground with an angry thump. “Uncle Duane said my parents deserved to die since they’d never gotten married. And that a woman isn’t complete without a husband.”
“Yeah, assholes.” Hawk studied her. She’d said her thinking was messed up. “How’d that affect you?”
Hands clasped tightly together, she averted her gaze. “I went kind of crazy when I left, rebelling by having lots of one-night-stands.”
“Youngsters.” He went with a noncommittal response. “Most of us like sex.”
“Me too,” she agreed, “but counseling showed me that my subconscious wanted me to find someone like Uncle Duane—because a woman isn’t complete without a husband. Then I had Aric without a husband.”
Fuck, no wonder. “You were easy pickings for Obadiah.”
“I really was.” She sighed. “It’s funny though. I can remember my parents enough to know they weren’t like that.”
Seems like they’d been about the same age when their brain programming got rewired. After all, that was what adults did—imprint kids with expected behavior.
Going from abuse into Mako’s gruff version of love, Hawk had absorbed his strong moral code. Kit had gone from loving parents to real bastards. Had she tried to adhere to their code to win affection from them?
Probably.
Yeah, he and his brothers had been damn lucky.
Thank you, Sarge.
At the dinner table in Mako’s house, Regan did what Uncle Hawk called “chowing down.” Cuz it all tasted awesome.
Frankie’d planned to make some fancy French stuff, but instead, she and Audrey cooked fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy.
Audrey called it comfort food.
Totally. Sirius had thought so, too, when Regan sneaked him little bits of the chicken. He’d kept putting his paw on her foot when she stopped.
After they cleaned up, Regan curled up beside Papá on the humongo couch, feeling all full and happy. His leg was hard but made a great pillow.
JJ tucked a snuggly blanket around Regan, then sat on Papá’s other side.
Dante and Lillian had come over for supper and stayed to talk. They were sitting in the chairs and holding hands like the teens did. Very chill.
Uncle Bull was supposed to be bartending at the roadhouse, but he’d come home.
Everybody was here except for Uncle Hawk and Kit.
Was that why people were acting kinda weird?
Even with comfort food and her favorite fuzzy blankie, she had a wiggly feeling inside. Like there was something wrong. Only nobody was shouting or anything.
Close to Regan’s feet, Aric was sitting beside Frankie with Bull on Frankie’s other side.
“Cazzo. Mannaggia a me,” Frankie muttered.
Regan frowned. What did that one mean? She’d learned some cool swears from Frankie—and Papá too.
Like when she’d been helping Dante in his grocery store and dropped an egg, and it splattered, and she yelled, “A la verga.”
A Latino tourist guy got major frowny-faced. “Chiquita, you should not say such words.” And she said sorry, even though Dante was laughing. Really, a la verga was better than saying fuck, wasn’t it? She’d already taught it to Niko and Delaney.
She’d have to look up cazzo on the internet…if she could figure out how to spell it. Italian was weird.
Sitting beside Frankie, Bull took her hand. “Man up, sweetheart.”
She made a face at him—Frankie had the best faces—then pulled Aric into her lap and hugged him. “Aric. Remember I’m your godmother?”
He nodded and started getting all stiff.
Uh-huh, Regan knew it. Something wasn’t right.
When she sat up, Papá put his arm around her. “Shhh, mija.”
Frankie was telling Aric, “You know your mama and Hawk took food to some campers. Up in the mountains.”
Aric nodded again.
“Right. See how it’s foggy outside?” Frankie waved at the windows. “Helicopters aren’t supposed to fly in the fog, so Hawk landed beside a pretty little stream so they can camp there tonight.”
When Aric didn’t move, Frankie talked faster. “The fog will blow away tonight, so they’ll be home tomorrow morning. They’re fine, Aric; they just can’t fly in a fog. So they can’t be here tonight.”
Oh, no.
Aric’s eyes got wet, and he didn’t yell like Regan would. But he was shaking worse than Niko’s dog did when there was thunder.
Frankie hugged Aric again. “I’m here, tesoro mio. You’ll stay with me and Bull up in our room tonight…because you’re our family.”
Regan scowled. Aric was still crying so Frankie’s stuff wasn’t working. But what she said was smart, cuz when Papá couldn’t be home and Regan got scared, having JJ hold her was really nice.
Having family was like comfort food.
Pulling away from Papá, Regan crawled next to Aric and bumped him with her shoulder. “Hey. You know you kinda-sorta belong to Hawk, right?”
Aric looked at her, and his mouth got all scrunchy, like he wanted to say, mine. He nodded big.
Regan got it, cuz that’s how she felt about JJ. Mine. “Yeah, so since Hawk is my uncle, and you belong to him, then that makes you my…my…” There was a word.
“I believe you want to say cousin, mija.” Papá was smiling like he was proud of her.
That made her heart go gooey.
She turned to Aric. “There, see? We’re cousins. Like brother and sister, but with different moms and dads.”
Aric wasn’t looking as scared, and when she took his hand, his cold fingers squeezed hers. He said cousins only no sound came out.
“Spot on.” In one of the chairs, Lillian clapped her hands like she was all happy. “Since you’re Hawk’s boy, and you’re cousins with Regan, and she’s my grandchild, I do believe that makes you my grandson. You’ll have to call me Grammy like Regan does, and I will get to lavish you with treats.”
Oh, Lillian was tricksy. Regan had shown Aric the super-cool backpack Lillian had bought her for school. She leaned forward and whispered, “Grammy gives the best presents. Papá says she’s spoiling me, an’ now she can spoil you too.”
Uncle Bull’s laugh was really big. “Guess that makes me your Uncle Bull, yeah?”
On the other side of the sectional, there came another laugh. “Uncle Gabe. That’s me, Aric.” Regan turned to see Audrey kiss Uncle Gabe’s cheek. And the cop grinned. “I like the way the family’s getting bigger.”
Aric was still holding Regan’s hand, and she smirked.
She was going to get to keep him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. ~ Admiral David G. Farragut
As Hawk stowed the pots and dishes in the helicopter, Kit rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
What was Aric thinking? Was he crying? Afraid?
Just a bit ago, she tried to call on the satellite phone, but Hawk said the mountains around them would probably block the signal. He was right. Darn it.