“But we grown motherfuckers. We’ll get better. Your daddy one of my best fucking friends and to knowmykid hurt his baby girl is tearing me apart. Tell me how I can make it better for you. I already kicked Ryan’s ass. Do you need me to do it again?”
“That would make Aunt Zoann really suspicious,” Harley said. “Besides, he wanted Molly back. He succeeded.”
“Barely. He did that shit, too.” Uncle Val shifted. “Has he at least apologized to you?”
“Not since the night Rebel confronted him.”
“I still… Never mind. You’d probably think I’ve lost my fucking mind and think I’m not ashamed of him. I am, Harley. And I’m sorry. I can’t say that to you enough. Besides thank you. None of you girls have to keep this shit to yourselves but thank you for loving my Puff enough to protect that little fuckhead.”
“It isn’t only for her, Uncle Val. Mainly her, but it’s for you and Daddy, too. Families protect each other. It’s for Ryan as well.”
Uncle Val gave her a curious look and cocked his head to the side. “How so?”
“He was accepted and it finally dawned on him that CJ isn’t his enemy. He was acting like one of the family. He deserves to be punished for what he did, but he also deserves a second chance. Everyone shouldhave that.”
Uncle Val smiled at her and patted her shoulder. “Mort would be so fucking proud of you.”
“Would he, Uncle Val?” she said, her despair returning. “I owe him so many apologies.”
“No, baby. Only one’s needed. Genuine, from the heart. But your old man love the fuck out of you. For him, it’s all good.” He got to his feet.
“Uncle Val?”
Turning, he gave her a questioning look.
“You’re Ryan’s father and you’ve loved him his entire life. I don’t hold it against you or think any less of you that you still love him and probably always will.”
He nodded, gave her a small smile, and walked out.
A few minutes later, Aunt Zoann came to her. Her step wasn’t as light as it had been when she first arrived and Harley wondered what Aunt Kendall might’ve said. Hopefully, she hadn’t outed Ryan.
Aunt Zoann’s teary, whiskey-colored eyes alarmed Harley and she straightened.
“What’s the matter?”
Instead of answering, she sat next to Harley and hugged her tightly. She started to cry.
“Goddamn,” she said a few minutes later. “I don’t know why I’ve been so fucking emotional. I’m not a crier.”
Pursing her lips, Harley pulled back from Aunt Zoann and studied her.
“Kendall thinks you were considering harming yourself,” Aunt Zoann said before Harley spoke. “Were you?”
Unsure how to answer, Harley shrugged.
“Oh, baby. I have to talk to Mort, Harley. You can’t do this on your own. You need therapy.”
“If you say so, Aunt Zoann.”
She grabbed Harley’s hands and held them tightly. “When I was seventeen…” She pressed her lips together, but a sob still escaped her.
“Puff?” Uncle Val called, rushing into the room.
Aunt Zoann didn’t seem to hear him. She stared at Harley, tears rolling down her cheeks, a distant look in her eyes. “I hate to think about it.”
Uncle Val sat next to Aunt Zoann, which sandwiched her between him and Harley. “Then don’t, babe. Don’t—”
“No! She needs to know. She can’t.” Turning to him, she hugged him. “I hate thinking about it. It’s been so long since I’ve talked about it and now I’m just a wreck.”
