Before Mattie was attacked.
Before Gypsy was killed.
Did that matter? The minute he found out Ryan was recording Rebel and Harley…Jesus.
Rory should’ve spoken up.
“I’m so sorry, Gypsy,” he whispered.
He’d apologize to her for the rest of his life. Hopefully, she could hear him.
He wanted to do more, though. He wanted to beg her forgiveness and thank her at the same time. She’d taught him so much and she’d probably saved his mother, Lolly, Grandmother, his aunts, or his cousins. Or even his sister. Wally, Jr. hadn’t intended to stop until he avenged Eliza.
Mom might leave Rory alone with Gypsy for a few minutes, but she might not. He doubted he’d hold his shit together when he first saw her body in the casket and Mom wouldn’t leave him, so he wouldn’t be ableto thank Gypsy.
He could always write her a note and slip it somewhere on her, allowing his words to be with her for all eternity.
That idea soothed something inside of him as much as Mom’s care and concern did. Getting to his feet, he walked to his desk, pulled a sheet of paper and a pen out of his drawer. And stared at the blank lines, unsure of what to write.
Suppose someone found the note before she was buried? Rory was almost certain Mom wouldn’t demand to read it even if she was standing right next to him when he placed it. Nothing had been going right lately, so he didn’t want to write anything incriminating, then it would be discovered and Gypsy would be cast in a bad light.
No matter what Mom and his aunts would think, she wasn’t a predator. She was a beautiful woman who had shared herself and a lot of information with Rory.
Which, again, he couldn’t reveal. It wasn’t all that earth-shattering anyway, but his emotions were too jumbled to hide his source if he went to Mom. He’d risk revealing everything.
The paper came back into focus. Words floated in his head. One day, he’d write a longer note to her. Maybe he’d tear it up afterwards or take it to wherever Derby planned to bury her, sit at her grave, and read it to her.
For now, he simply wrote,Thank you for being you, Rory Donovan.
He’d just finished folding the loose-leaf page and stuffing it into the pair of trousers he’d wear when a knock came on his door.
“Come in,” he called.
JJ popped his head in. He was blond like Dad, but brown-eyed like Mom, and shared a close resemblance to Ryder. Those two could be brothers instead of cousins. “Mom ordered pizza.”
“I told her I’m not hungry,” Rory said, throwing his pants back onto the bed. He still needed to pick out socks, underwear, and shoes. “She must’ve forgotten.”
“Mom’s packing. Dad sent me to get you.”
Rory frowned. “Packing to go where? And when is she leaving?”
“On an emergency business meeting. And early tomorrow.” JJ didn’t look pleased. He adored Mom and preferred her over anyone else except Mattie. “She said she’ll be home in time for the DNA stuff.”
That couldn’t be right. The tests were on Wednesday. Mom promised Rory she’d take him to see Gypsy the day after tomorrow.
Rushing to the door, Rory threw it fully open and brushed past JJ. “I want two pieces of pizza. I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
“Kitchen. We’re eating at the table in there.”
Rory didn’t care. His heart pounding, he ran to his mother’s room and remembered to knock at the last minute.
A moment later, the doorknob lock turned and Mom opened the door. “Yes, son?”
Rory ignored her distant tone and her severe look. “You aren’t leaving…?” He swallowed, frightened, grief-stricken. “You’re taking me to view…”
“Something’s come up, Rory. I won’t be able to do it. Your father will be here. Ask him.”
Anger surged into Rory, but he pushed it away. Mom couldn’t desert him right now when he needed her so bad. “I want you to take me.”
