Chapter Fourteen
Thomas
Once Taylor and Falyn broke the news to the rest of the family, the resentful looks from my brothers were even sharper than they’d been before.
It was my fault they’d grieved Olive. It was my fault that they’d lost so much time with her, that they were here, and now that Falyn had to grieve her father while worrying about her mother.
“You okay?” Liis asked, unpacking the few things we’d brought into the cubbies of our new room.
“I didn’t think they could hate me more, but they do.”
“They don’t hate you, they’re mad at you, and it will pass once emotion is replaced with logic.”
“That doesn’t really happen in my family.”
She smiled. “No, but it’s not impossible.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, resting one hand on Stella’s crib as she slept, rubbing my forehead with the other. “I’m glad you see the light at the end of the tunnel, because I sure as shit don’t.”
Liis sat next to me, kissed my cheek, and then leaned in. “You still have us.”
“Thank God,” I said, pressing my cheek against her hair. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do.”
She whispered against my ear, “You’ll never have to find out. That’s a promise.” She stood. “Now help me finish this so we can test the baby monitor while we raid the galley. I’m starving.”
“Marcel sent a couple of cooks. Dinner is in an hour.”
Liis breathed out a laugh, letting the tension leave with it. “Maybe we should just live here.”
I shot her an annoyed look, causing her to cover her laugh.
We finished unpacking and then took the baby monitor with us into the corridor, checking for Stella’s breath and movement. Once we confirmed the monitor was working, we found our way to the galley and greeted the cooks.
Donna and Janet were in their mid-sixties, mother and grandmother to two of the higher ranked men up top. They were wearing hair nets and matching aprons, moving as they spoke, telling us about their time there and extending their sympathy for what we’d lost.
“Thank you,” I said, watching them stir and chop. “It smells amazing.”
“Oh, this is our Super Bowl,” Janet said. “No one’s leaving hungry and everyone’s getting judged for how many rolls they swipe.”
I chuckled and Liis shot a look in my direction. She was just as surprised as I was that anyone could make me laugh at the moment.
Donna pointed to the cast iron skillets on the burners.
“We have southern—of course—fried chicken going, mashed potatoes with white gravy, slow-cooked green beans with bacon, baked mac and cheese for the picky eaters, potato salad—no raisins, so don’t ask—and banana pudding or peach cobbler for dessert. ”
Liis lowered her chin, looking at me with raised brows. “We live here now.”
I chuckled again.
“That’s twice,” Liis said. “We may cheer you up yet.”
“You feeling blue, young man?” Janet asked, wiping the flour on her hands onto her apron. “No matter. This’ll have you feeling right as rain.”
“If that’s what a food coma is, then sign me up,” I said.
The ladies cackled, tapping each other as they noticed the rest of the Maddoxes following the smell into the galley.
“Come in, come in,” Donna said. “Sit where you like, it’s ready!”
The kids barreled in as if they’d been released from a starting gate, drawn straight to the table by instinct and smell alone. Chairs scraped, voices overlapped, and for a second it felt less like a fortified bunker and more like someone’s crowded Sunday kitchen.
Stella leaned away from Olive, reaching for Liis with sleepy eyes, and once in her mother’s arms, peeked over her shoulder at the spread. Olive remained standing, hovering just behind Bodhi, her gaze moving from skillet to serving dish in amazement.
Tyler clapped his hands once, impressed. “Y’all weren’t kidding, they made us a feast!”
Taylor, Travis, and Trenton lingered a beat, taking it in, then exchanged a look that said the same thing without words: it’s not that bad down here after all.
I thought maybe that had been the point.
Not every meal would be like this, but Marcel wanted us to settle in quickly.
I stepped back just enough to let my brothers move past, watching the tone change in real time.
The tension hadn’t been erased, but it eased, our sharp edges softening under the noise and warmth and the first feeling of something normal.
Donna moved through the galley like a conductor, pointing, redirecting, filling plates before anyone could pretend they weren’t hungry. “You—yes, you, tall one—take that stack. Don’t be shy. There’s more where that came from.”
Janet put two dishes on the table in front of Liis, one smaller than the other, her expression gentler now than it had been seconds before. “You sit, Mama. Let us do the rest.”
Liis hesitated, then did as she was told, pulling Stella into her lap as she settled.
Her shoulders stayed squared, alert out of habit, but when she glanced at Stella’s dish and realized everything had already been cut into tiny Stella-sized pieces, she fought tearing up.
She sighed and let her muscles relax. For now, at least, she would let her mind pretend.
I took the seat beside her, glancing around at everyone else seated or in the process of sitting.
Janet did the same for Camille as she had for Liis, loading up a plate and setting it in front of the mother with a baby in her arms. My brothers laughed, chatted, and happily pointed to serving dishes piled with food, steam rolling up from each.
Donna set a plate in front of me.
“What is this? My food’s not cut,” I teased.
She feigned a scowl, wagging a large wooden spoon at me. “Your mama ever whooped you with one of these? Now you eat, boy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, picking up a fork.
I didn’t realize anyone else had been paying attention until laughter swelled around the table.
“If she didn’t, she should’ve,” Travis said, amused.
Plates emptied and then filled again, fried chicken stacked high, potatoes drowning in gravy, large spoonfuls of green beans heaped onto plates.
Someone passed biscuits down the line, someone else reached for the mac and cheese, and within seconds the table was full in a way that felt almost excessive.
But no one held back. For a while, no one talked about anything going on above us.
It was just family, food, and light roasting—just like old times.
“Tommy!” Travis said. “You’ve brought us to paradise, brother!”
The table agreed. Even Trenton.
I focused on the plate in front of me, on something simple and tangible. Heat, salt, texture; details that didn’t ask anything from me except to notice them. I sniffed and cleared my throat.
Liis reached for my knee under the table. “Just enjoy it, honey,” she whispered.
I nodded, taking another bite of food.
Olive leaned over, glanced at my brothers then back at me, offering a single, subtle wink. “Looks to me like you’re well on your way to forgiveness,” she whispered.
I pressed my lips together and grinned. There was hope after all.
I glanced over at Liis, at Stella tucked against her, at my brothers, at the women moving around us as if this were the highlight of their day.
It was like we’d gone back in time, to when life was simpler, when my brothers came to me for advice, their wives playfully ribbed me, to when they didn’t mind if their children ran to me for a hug.
I felt like family again, and it was such a relief it almost hurt.
“You enjoying it yet?” Liis whispered again.
A quiet breath left me, not quite a laugh this time, but close enough. “Working on it.”
***
By the time we made it back to the room, the family began to shift into their nighttime routines.
The overheads had dimmed to a low amber, enough to see without drawing attention to the fact that there were no windows.
Air moved through the vents in a steady, controlled cycle, the only constant sound beneath our movements.
Liis checked the crib, smiling at the sight of Stella sleeping as if it were for the first time. She adjusted the blanket by less than an inch, more instinct than necessity, then stood there a second longer than required, watching for any change.
I reached for my sidearm to secure it away out of habit but remembered—as I did every night since we’d been here—that it was no longer in my possession.
“Forget again?” Liis asked without looking at me.
I grinned, caught. “You do it too. I’ve seen it.”
She glanced back, one brow lifting just enough to call it out without pushing. “Just the first night.”
“The General wanted us armed again before we came down here. We should remind Naomi sooner rather than later. With people sniffing around outside, I don't want to waste time trying to flag someone down to access them.”
Liis nodded. “Agreed. It’s not like her to forget. Something must be up. We should request it in the morning.”
“You want to shower first, or should I?”
“You go,” Liis said, glancing down at the crib.
“We could share,” I said with a wry smile.
Liis looked up at me in disbelief, and it took all of two seconds for my brain to catch up with my mouth.
“Jesus Christ, communal showers.” My expression twisted in disgust. “Forget I said that.”
Liis snorted. “I’ll stay here with her.”
“Good call,” I said, grabbing some things before I left for the men’s showers.
I was purposefully quick, rushing through my routine. Within ten minutes I was back, in a fresh T-shirt and basketball shorts, drying my hair with a damp towel. Liis was already ready to go, holding a bag of everything she’d need.
“I’ll be longer than that,” she said as she passed, unimpressed.
“I know, babe. I know.” I watched her pad down the corridor to the women’s showers.
Camille passed her, having just stepped out in a fluffy robe, her hair still damp. I waved awkwardly. She paused, her already flushed cheeks even redder than before, and then squeezed the top of her robe until it was scrunched together, walking faster to her and Trenton’s room.