Jagged Page 48


Mom, any thought of her hurt me.

He was just a dick.

Mom, I didn’t get.

It wasn’t like, back in the day, I expected heroics, like her jumping in front of Xenia or me (mostly Xenia) and taking our beating. Dad was a big guy and Mom was an inch shorter than me and I wasn’t exactly tall. I could see why she wouldn’t do that because he’d just lose his mind, beat her down, and then haul off and wail on us anyway.

But I didn’t understand why she didn’t do something.

She had two sisters, too, and they were actually nice. Sure, they’d both moved out of state and stayed there but it wasn’t like Mom didn’t know how to drive a car or dial a phone.

Even if she felt their distance didn’t make them an option, I couldn’t fathom why she didn’t go to Mick. As cops go, he was pretty approachable and even back then, when he wasn’t head honcho, he was serious about his job and protecting the citizenry of Gnaw Bone. Everyone knew it.

Which took me to Gnaw Bone. I didn’t have any experience of other places but back when Xenia did what she did and again very recently, they kicked in for me. They were just that way. If they had to do it on the hush-hush, they would. Or if they had to go all in, they’d do that, too. Hell, when Nina got kidnapped, she’d only been in town for over a week, most people didn’t know who the hell she was, the ones who did didn’t know her all that well, and everyone went out looking for her, even me.

I could understand that Dad cowed my mother. He wasn’t just a big guy; he was a scary guy. And I didn’t have any experience being a mother so who was I to say.

I just thought any mother would risk something for her daughters.

Not stand at the graveside of one dead one and watch your other one that you haven’t seen or spoken to in nine years (and didn’t try) walk up without even calling hello.

“Zara, lovely to see you here,” Pastor Williams said meaningfully when we stopped next to the casket and my eyes went to him to give him a grateful smile. “Young man, welcome,” he greeted Ham.

Ham lifted his chin.

“If you don’t mind, pastor, we’d like to get this started. We’re already unfathomably ten minutes late,” my father cut in.

“Certainly, Xavier,” Pastor Williams murmured, looking down to his Bible.

I did a scan that was far from thorough and saw, first, my mother’s sisters weren’t there, and second, only about six other people were, which meant the ones my father were expecting had likely been there awhile.

That was when I knew the source of Mick’s information, considering Pastor Williams had delayed to wait for our arrival.

Therefore, if he wasn’t a man of the cloth, older than my dad, and I didn’t have my man at my side who I’d been waiting to be my man for years, once this crap was done, I’d kiss the pastor hard.

The service was short but sweet, seeing as Pastor Williams was a great guy, he knew Xenia, and he made it that way.

At the end, as he prayed, we all watched Xenia lowered into the ground, but even as my throat burned, I held it together.

“I’m sure Xenia would thank you all for coming,” Pastor Williams started and I felt Ham’s lips at my ear where he muttered, “I’m not.”

I successfully stifled a half-nervous, half-amused giggle as Pastor Williams went on. “As do I, Xenia’s parents, Xavier and Amy, and Xenia’s sister, Zara. God be with Xenia and God be with all of you.”

When he was done, I thought it safe to approach the opened earth and look down at those beautiful but inappropriate roses.

Then I tossed mine on.

Blood red. Her favorites.

Red. Means love, baby, she’d said to me once, a twinkle in her eye, still young enough to have hope for the future.

“I miss you,” I whispered to the flowers. “I thank God you’re finally at peace but I miss you, Xeens. Every freaking day.”

I felt a hand slide up my back and curl around my neck, warm and reassuring as I stood still, stared at those flowers, and said one last good-bye to my sister.

Then I felt warmth at my back and lips at my ear where Ham murmured, “You ready, cookie?”

“Just a second, darlin’,” I murmured back. The warmth at my back left but the hand stayed around my neck. I stared at the flowers and told my sister, “Got that, girl. Got that love, baby. Took a while. But I finally got in my life what the color of those flowers means. Wherever you are, be happy for me. I promise, we’re gonna do right.”

I said no more, waited for a wisp of wind that might be her reply, and got nothing.

It was disappointing but I had nine years of that, waiting for some sign that some part of Xenia’s spirit was still with me and not getting it. I was used to it by then.

I moved away and the instant I did, Ham curled his arm around my shoulders and tucked me close to his side. I wrapped my arm around his waist and we didn’t get a step before Pastor Williams stopped us.

“Zara, so pleased to see you here,” he said.

“Thank you, Pastor. I’m pleased I got the chance to come,” I replied. When his eyes went to Reece I introduced, “Pastor Williams, this is Graham Reece. Ham, this is Pastor Williams.”

They shook hands as Ham said, “Pastor. Folks call me Reece.”

“Fine, Reece. Nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Ham rumbled.

They broke contact and Pastor Williams looked to me. “I know this is not exactly a shock but it’s no less distressing. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. My door is always open if you ever need to talk.”

“Thanks Pastor,” I mumbled on a small smile.

He gave me a small smile back, nodded to me, nodded to Ham, and moved away.

I looked to my feet and muttered, “Hurry, let’s make a quick getaway.”

That was when I felt Ham go tight at my side and he muttered back, “Too late for that.”

My head lifted and I saw Dad approaching.

Really, he was handsome. He’d given me his blond hair. Although his had since faded to gray in an attractive way. He’d also given me my brown eyes. He’d been built back in the day and he kept in shape, for an older guy. If you didn’t know what a dick he was, and he didn’t wear that fact on his face, he’d still turn heads.

Ham drew me closer.

“Zara,” he greeted. These were the first words he’d spoken to me in nearly a decade and his voice was ice cold.

I refrained from replying, “Maker of the seed that spawned me,” and just looked at him.

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