If we don’t fuck soon, I’m likely to explode.
Galen sighs. “Mom, I just told you. Harlow is married to all of us.”
Alisha wrinkles her nose in distaste, and my anger rises. For once, couldn’t she put aside her own selfish thoughts and think of her son? “I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Well, it is.” Galen’s tone is snippy as he stands, holding out the chair beside him for Lo. She kisses him briefly, before sitting beside him, and I drop into the chair on his other side.
Mrs. Murphy carries plates loaded with food into the room, and we tuck in. She leaves some extras in bowls in the middle of the table, along with two large pitchers of water, before excusing herself, pulling the heavy, ornate doors closed behind her.
No one is speaking—we’re too busy eating our body weight in pot roast—but it’s not awkward.
Until Alisha decides to put her big foot in it.
“It’s strange to think if I hadn’t aborted Trey’s baby you and your wife would share a sibling, isn’t it?” she says to Galen, grinning like she’s just told a joke.
All the blood drains from Lo’s face, and she shoves her plate away, knotting her hands in her lap.
“Mom.” Galen’s silverware clangs off the table as he drops it, thumping his fist on the table. “Why would you even bring that up?” he says, through gritted teeth, snagging Lo’s hand under the table.
“I don’t know, I just…” She shrugs, shooting a timid smile in Lo’s direction. Lo glares at her with murderous intent, and Alisha gulps. “It just popped into my head,” she blurts. “Ugh.” She slams her glass down, pressing her palms into her head. “I’m bad. Bad. Bad.” She slaps her cheeks, fisting her hands, and hitting herself in the face. She accidentally elbows her glass, and it crashes on top of the table, shattering and spilling vodka everywhere.
Lo reacts fast, jumping to her feet before vodka pours all over her.
“I’ll get Mrs. Murphy,” Theo says while Galen stands, going to his mom and prying her hands from her face. Her nails are unkempt, and she’s torn her frail skin. Little beads of blood seep from a small tear on her cheek.
“Mom, stop.” Galen holds her wrists down in front of her, as Saint slips out of the room.
“I’m sorry!” she whimpers, letting her head drop forward on his chest. “I know I mess everything up, but I’m not all bad. I’ve done good things.” She lifts her chin, peeking up at her son with a pleading expression.
I don’t know how the fuck Galen has put up with this for years. He deserves the Nobel fucking Peace Prize for his efforts.
Galen releases her hands as Saint steps back into the room. “Good things for you,” Alisha adds, cupping Galen’s face. “My baby. My precious boy. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
What a fucking joke.
This is going to sound cold, but, honestly, the best thing Alisha Lennox could do for her son is die and release him from the burden of caring for her.
She hiccups, and Galen’s pained eyes meet Saint’s over his mom’s shoulder. Saint sets the first aid box down on the table, and I bundle Lo in my arms as we watch Galen attend to the cut on her face.
Mrs. Murphy arrives to clean up the mess on the table, her sad gaze roaming over Alisha as she sobs into Galen’s shirt.
“I’ll get her to bed,” Mrs. Murphy says. “You finish your dinner.” She coaxes Alisha from Galen’s arms, and his shoulders slump as she’s led out of the room.
“You should eat,” Galen says in a deadpan voice. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
“I think we all have,” Lo says, leaving my embrace and going to Galen. She snakes her arms around him, holding him tight.
“Let’s just leave.” Galen sounds dejected, and I don’t blame him. No matter how often Alisha embarrasses him like this, it never gets any easier even when he knows we understand.
“Lo has something to show you first,” Saint says, clamping his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Something that’ll cheer you up.”
We head outside, letting Lo and Galen walk ahead of us.
“She’s getting worse,” Saint says under his breath as we walk.
“She looks awful,” I admit, because every time I see her, she appears to be thinner and paler.
“We need to get her into rehab,” Theo suggests.
“It’s a waste of money,” Saint says. “Money Galen doesn’t have because everything he earns already goes into her and the upkeep of this house.”
“He should sell it,” I cut in. “Place is creepy as fuck and falling apart. He’d be better off using the money to get Alisha into rehab and then buying her a smaller home that’s more manageable.”
“It’s been in his family for generations,” Theo says.
“So what?” I shrug. “It’s only bricks and mortar, and from where I’m sitting, it’s brought them nothing but misery.”
“I doubt Sinner would let her part with it considering he’s using it to stash his guns and drugs,” Saint says.
“Let him buy it off her,” I say even though I know he’d never do that. He’ll demand she keep it and continue using it to suit his own ends. He contributes toward the upkeep of the house, but it’s pennies, and Galen covers most of that cost, including paying Mrs. Murphy’s salary. We’ve offered to help countless times, but he refuses to take our money.
Stubborn fuck.
We round the corner, and the maze comes into view. “Wow.” Saint whistles under his breath. “This takes me back.” I’d forgotten how intertwined Galen’s and Saint’s childhood memories are.
“Our girl did good.” Theo’s voice oozes pride.
“She did.” I smile as he turns to look at me, and we share a heated look, one that’s growing with intensity by the day.
Up ahead, Galen is swinging Lo around, and she’s laughing, happy it’s brought a smile back to his face.
“She makes everything better,” Saint murmurs, and I’m not sure if he realizes he said that out loud.
“She fucking does,” I agree.
“Come on, man,” Galen shouts, urging Saint forward with his fingers. “Let’s explore together.”
We watch the three of them disappear into the maze together, and neither of us makes a move to follow them. My chest heaves the longer we stand here side by side. I’m acutely aware of the heat rolling off Theo’s body in waves and the blood rushing south to my cock. Electricity surrounds us, crackling in the air, strengthening the connection simmering between us. Every nerve ending on my body is standing to attention, and anticipation is rife.
A volt zips up my arm when Theo’s fingers brush against mine. At first, I think it’s accidental, until his fingers touch mine again, curling around the tips, sending bolts of desire threading through my body. I got in trouble the last time I reacted on impulse, but fuck it.
Life is about taking chances, and if I continue waiting for Theo to take control, I’ll be old and gray before he takes that leap of faith.
I won’t push him too fast, but there’s nothing wrong with nudging him in the right direction.