The little man glanced over his shoulder, then looked at Johnnie and held up a finger. “Un momentico. I look again.” He started off. “How soon do you need this rooms?”
“I needtheserooms ASAP.”
It was Dartine’s turn to frown.
“As soon as possible.” At Dartine’s blank look, Johnnie searched his mind for the correct saying. Here and there, he’d picked up sayings, mainly in moments of nostalgia when he remembered Paz. “Uh…Lo más pronto posible.”
“Ah.Sí.”
Smiling, he left Johnnie alone. While Dartine saw to whatever, Johnnie would continue creating his mental plan for his and Kendall’s new life in Colombia.
When the doorbell rang, Harley didn’t move from her spot on the sofa where she’d sat since helping Uncle Val prepare breakfast for himself and Aunt Zoann, which he promptly brought upstairs. Harley ate cereal alone at the kitchen table then returned to the den, trying not to think or to feel. Just numb.
Even when Uncle Val and Aunt Zoann left a little while ago after fussing over her and asking if she needed anything, Harley couldn’t connect with her feelings. She didn’t want to think about Nardo. Or Pillar of Earth. She didn’t want to remember all the abuse and taunts.
The bell rang again. She still didn’t move. Whenever she answered that stupid door, the visitor always brought devastatingnews to her. Otherwise, she was forgotten by everyone except Aunt Zoann and Uncle Val.
Ryan’s laughter floated down the hallway. “Yeah, no, cuck. Fuck off.”
Harley’s ears perked. Cuck? That had become Ryan’s pet name for the boys, especially CJ. It was stupid, considering the meaning when he’d first began using it, but she was a girl and she’d never understand boys.
“We have visitors, Harley,” Ryan announced, walking into the den with a cigarette jammed in the corner of his mouth, wearing only bike shorts, leaving nothing to the imagination.
She blushed, discomfort swirling in her belly. Bowing her head, she studied her hands. “We?”
“Hey, Harley.” Grant Harrington’s kind voice encouraged her to look up. Walking to her, he smiled, then sat next to her and hugged her. “How are you doing? We’re all really worried about you with Bailey refusing to even call to check on you.”
“What the fuck is wrong with these bitches?”
With those vicious words, Rory’s presence registered.
Harley stiffened. “Mommie isn’t a bitch.”
“Yeah, she is. As much as my mom, who just fucking left for no reason.”
“Rory, fuck off,” Grant snapped. “Don’t talk about Bailey until you know the fucking facts. For that matter, respectyourmom. Do you know who she’s married to? The same motherfucker whose daughter was afraid to facehim after she’d been through something traumatic.”
“You don’t get to tell me how to feel,” Rory spat.
“Bailey’s my stepsister, you ungrateful little motherfucker. I sure the fuckdoget to tell you how to feel, especially when you’re talking to her daughter.”
“Wait, fuck.” Ryan discarded his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, then sat in one of the chairs across from the sofa. “That makes you Harley’s uncle, Grant?” he asked as if he was unsure.
The concept was hilarious to Harley and she giggled.
Grant nudged her shoulder with his and winked at her. “I guess it does.”
“That makes you nothing to my mom,” Rory said bitterly, “so shut the fuck up.”
“No, why don’t you shut the fuck up and get the fuck out?” Grant said in a hard voice. “You’re over here for whatever fucking reason instead of being home helping your mom to take care of your brothers and sister. Seeing ifsheneeds anything.”
“Mom doesn’t care, so why should I? Besides, that’s what Ella’s there for. Mattie can help and make herself useful,” Rory said sullenly.
“Rory…” Harley pursed her lips and cleared her throat. “What…? This isn’t you. Whatever’s bothering you, we’re your cousins. We can help.”
“Fuck off. You can’t help yourself, so how the fuck can you help me?”
“Uh, Rory, get the fuck out,” Ryan ordered. “You said you wanted to talk to me. Let’s do that because you aren’t abusing Harley.”
