“Not a word, King.”
“It’s been a week,” I said, walking over to where she was standing by the stove flipping pancakes.
“It’s been two weeks, and I feel fine.” She set the spatula on the counter and turned to me. “I can’t sit in that house right now. It’s too quiet.”
I pulled her against me and kissed her head. She was struggling with the loss of Hash, and the appearance of my dead mother wasn’t helping.
“Promise me you’ll take a break when you get tired.”
“I promise.”
I turned to Mac and Duncan, pointing my finger at both of them. “Don’t let her overdo it.”
They both nodded and looked toward the door as we heard shouting coming from the main room. I sighed and looked at Jackson. “You sure you’re up for this?” He rolled his eyes at me and walked out to the bar.
Out in the main room, it seemed everyone had shown up for the party. Reaper and Montana sat at the bar and grinned when they saw me walk in. I flipped them the bird as I walked past them to where Sal, Snoopy, and Hemlock stood toe to toe, glaring at each other while Darcy stood to the side.
“All of you, in church, now,” I growled.
Grace tried to pull her hand away, and I held on tight. “Baby, I want you to come with me.”
“Are you sure?” She looked over at my mother. Darcy was wise to keep her mouth closed.
“Yeah, baby. I’m sure.”
“Karlyn’s coming too,” Jackson said. And when Karlyn nodded, Grace relaxed and followed me into church. I directed Jackson to sit beside me in Cash’s chair. Grace sat on the other side of me, and Karlyn sat on the other side of Jackson.
Sal and Snoopy sat on either side of Darcy, separated by a couple of chairs. Hemlock stood behind her.
I stared at him, looking for any resemblance. Then I looked at Snoopy. Charles Kennedy was in his seventies, at least a decade older than my mother. But seeing him next to Hemlock, there was no question they were related.
I looked at Jackson. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’m sure you have questions,” Darcy said.
“Not really,” I countered. “Jackson?”
He didn’t speak. He just stared at Darcy. He’d had even less time than I had to get used to the idea that the woman he believed was his mother wasn’t her at all. Neither of us were looking for a mother. I had Maureen; Jackson had his aunt Roxy. He’d told me she was alive when he came back from Lincoln. Though she hadn’t arrived with James and Donna.
She and Dante, along with Mellie and Ghost, had stayed with Sinclair. I didn’t like the idea of his being involved, but at least he wasn’t anywhere near Tank.
“Why now?” Grace asked. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about what happened at Dec’s house last night. I knew she’d meet her when Declan took Darcy there, but we’d had other, more important things to deal with than my dead mother.
When Darcy didn’t answer, Karlyn pressed, “Are you going to answer?”
“I was hoping I could talk to Kingston and Jackson alone.”
“Not happening,” I told her. “Grace and Karlyn are part of our lives. A permanent part.”
Darcy nodded. “I hadn’t planned to come back at all. But Brian—”
“Brian fuckin’ knew?” Sal exploded as he jumped from his seat.
“Sal,” Grace chided. She shook her head, and my father sat his ass back down. I looked at my woman and wondered when the hell she’d spoken to my father.
“Brian said it was time to come home. Jane Craven was dead, and theSocietywas gone.”
“Is that why you stayed dead? Because of Jane?” I asked.
