LJ left the room
, and I wasn’t surprised he was the one doing damage control. He had many contacts and was the only one of my dad’s friends who built his wealth from the ground up. He wasn’t born into it like the rest of us, and since he didn’t have kids, he probably wanted to do the grunt work for the rest of the parents.
Of course, that was just a theory, and I heard his voice right after he disappeared into the hall.
“Yeah, he’s back,” he said, his voice drifting into the room. “He’s in the living room with the others, and I’m sure very happy with himself.”
Shit, he was pissed. Everyone was pissed, and the next thing I knew, my parents’ living room filled with more annoyed parents.
They all really were here now, the closest people in my life. Well, all but my great-aunt Celeste. She’d moved out of state when Grandfather Lindquist died. She’d just wanted a change in scenery after all that, so much pain that day.
Thatcher and Bow’s parents, Knight and Greer, arrived in the room first. Their father married a short (little) blonde, and little was about the only thing that could explain, well, Bow. The timid thing was an anomaly in our group, but the outward perception of her could definitely fool. Thatcher’s little sister had some fight in her. She may even have gotten that from her mom.
The small woman did nothing but mean mug me the moment she graced the room, her arms crossed. Jax and Cleo, Wells’s parents, were behind her and Knight.
A weird story about Wells’s parents was that they were stepbrother and stepsister. Though, they hadn’t grown up together. They met later in life, I guess, but still, all us kids thought that was… different.
Let’s just say, it wasn’t something Wells preached from the rafters, and he wasn’t a thing like either of them. My god dad Jaxen was basically that corny uncle with all the fucking fart jokes. He had my buddies and me roaring during the holidays, and Cleo couldn’t be any different. She didn’t talk a lot and was pretty shy.
“Oh my God,” she said, seeing me. She had her hand on her chest. “Thank God.”
“Damn fucking right.” Jax said that, two faces to him. He had his funny side, then the don’t-mess-with-me fucking side. He propped his hands on his hips. “You got a lot of explaining to do, boy.”
“He does.”
I missed Ramses, Wolf’s dad, behind the group. Though, I had no idea how.
He was taller than everyone.
Wolf definitely got that from his dad. In fact, my god dad daunted with his size. He was just as beast-like as my buddy but was incredibly laid-back. The two were basically yin and yang, his son the crazier-than-shit version of him.
His dad didn’t come closer.
Actually, Ramses kept his distance, his hands cuffing his big arms. The guy wore a trench coat over his suit, his tie undone like he too had been at the office, which caused me to wonder how many lives I had disrupted today. Ramses looked pissed, and he had to have been because Brielle left my side and went to her husband. Let’s just say, normally he calmed her down.
So yeah, this wasn’t good.
She pressed a hand to his chest, rubbing, and he shook his head, parting his attention from me. It was like he couldn’t deal.
“Who wants to go first?”
My dad said the words, and I realized my mom wasn’t looking at me either. She was holding my father’s hand, her face turned toward him. He still stood behind her chair, his other hand rubbing her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, but that Mayberry bitch had what was coming to her after how she did Charlie.” Thatcher, surprisingly, was bold enough to make the statement.
He regretted it immediately.
His dad’s eyes expanding in his direction told the room that. Thatcher’s dad was already fucking big, but he seemed to grow three sizes in the few words his son voiced. Knight shot a finger that way. “Your first warning, boy. You talk, then talk some goddamn sense.”
Thatcher shrunk a little, shifting in his seat. He tried to hide behind his hand like that fucker could. He was big enough and barely fit in my mom’s easy chair.
Wolf raised his head. “We did what we had to do.”
“What you had to do, huh?” Ramses brought his arm around his wife. She was still holding him, the man’s jaw tight. “So you kids really feel you’re equipped to take things into your own hands?” His eyes narrowed. “The same kids who are roughing the hell out of each other?”
Ramses directed a finger between Wolf and me, the evidence of our fight still on his face.
And my knuckles.