11
Kit
Aftermath
The chaos surrounding us isn’t unexpected, but it’s loud. So friggin loud. Jon is going fuckingbananas. His face is almost dark purple, and the vein on his forehead threatens to burst. Bobby steps between his best friend and us with his broad chest and shielding hands.
We don’t need protection from Jon; he’s simply scared and mad. If anyone in this kitchen needs a hug, it’s Jon… and Jimmy.
Jack stares speechless.
Aiden paces the room and makes plans that no one will ever know, because he probably won’t voice them. They’re for him, they’re to help him make sense of his newly turned on its head world.
Bobby’s lack of reaction is surprising, but I won’t fight it. That’s one less fire we need to put out tonight.
Tink and I remain standing beside Iz; we hold her hand, and we absorb some of the harsh words being thrown across the room. No matter what the guys say in the midst of their anger, I don’t believe for one second they’re truly mad at Iz. Jon’s baby is having a baby, and he’s terrified.
I won’t hold that against him.
I steal a glance over my shoulder in search of Jimmy, but I come up empty.
He’s gone?
My head whips from side to side as I look around the room. I stretch my neck and check every corner of the kitchen and dining space, but he’s gone.
Completely vanished.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” I whisper in Iz’s ear. I drop her hand and run to my front door in time to watch Jimmy’s taillights speed around the corner.
Fuck!
What the hell do I do about that?
Is he safe?
Is Ben safe?
Oh God, Ben’s going to die tonight.
I walk back inside and scowl at world war three being waged in my kitchen. In reality, it’s more of a one-sided war – it’s mostly Jon, with a little bit of Aiden on the side, while Bobby shields the silent girls, and Jack watches the Maury show live.
Today definitely sucks more than yesterday.
I promised Iz I wouldn’t leave her, so I walk through the crowd, past a shouting Jon, past a pacing Aiden, around a shielding Bobby, and I take up my position beside Iz and take her spare hand in mine.
We’re a team, an impenetrable wall, and she asked for our help, so we won’t back down.
“What the fuck are you thinking, Iz? What the hell is the matter with you?”
“I didn’t–”
“How stupid could you be? You’re a child!”
“I’m not a–”
“Jon.” I attempt to step around Bobby, but he doesn’t let me go far. “Jon! Stop.”
“You’re nineteen!” he roars.