CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #2
“Family isn’t always just about blood. It’s about surrounding yourself with people who you love and who love you back.
Regardless of if you’re related or not. Family is made up of people who want to see you happy and succeed.
Not people who just want to hurt you. Your uncles, your grandfather, your father; they all had wanted and still want to hurt me.
They don’t think women should have the same rights as men.
They want to control what I read, what I wear, who I talk to, who I marry. ”
“Who you marry?” The kid looked utterly gobsmacked.
I was not planning to have this conversation with him for several more years, but apparently, the universe had other plans.
“My father arranged for me to marry your dad. I didn’t know your dad very well.
He was much older than me, and I didn’t love him.
I didn’t choose to marry him. And unfortunately, honey, he wasn’t a very nice man. ”
“Why didn’t you leave then?”
“I wanted to. So many times. There were just a lot of factors against me. I had no money, no education, and pretty soon, I had you. Then, when your father passed away, my father and Soloman tried to make me marry Soloman’s son, but I couldn’t imagine being with someone I didn’t love again.
So I ran, with you, and that’s how we ended up here. ”
So many questions and even more confusion shifted behind his eyes as he stared at me, trying to sort through everything I had just told him. He swallowed. “If my dad was bad, does that mean I’m half bad?”
Oh, fuck.
I pulled him into my arms again, tightening my hold on him.
“Absolutely not. Your dad chose to be bad. He chose to be mean and hurtful. We could have had a nice life. He could have been kinder to me. So much of our lives comes down to the choices we make. Not who made us.” I held him away again, and was about to drop down to a crouch like I used to in order to be at eye-level with him, but my kid was getting taller each and every day, so I didn’t have to anymore.
A pang of melancholy shot through me, and I shoved it down for later.
“What kind of a person do you want to be, Marco Aaronson?”
“I want to be a good person. I want to be a nice person. I don’t want to be mean or hurt people.”
I nodded. “Then choose to be that man. Choose to be the opposite of your father. You are already nothing like him. Just because you’re half him, doesn’t mean even a pinky toe of you needs to be like him. Okay?”
He nodded, uncertainty still in his eyes. His gaze shifted to the front door where Jagger loomed, waiting for us. “All right,” Marco said. “Let’s go to Jagger’s for a bit. I get it now, Mom.”
That vice around my ribcage loosened just a smidge, and I wrapped my arm around him and led him outside.
My cousins and their kids all stood in the driveway.
Clint and Wyatt were already busy installing some extra security cameras they found kicking around their place that they apparently “didn’t need.
” They’d already measured for our new security gate, which we would have to order, but they knew a guy who would give them the same good price that they received.
Normally, my cousins and I didn’t like handouts, or having to rely on anybody else—particularly men—for help.
We were self-sufficient on this vineyard and able to get things done on our own.
Naomi could fix almost anything. Danica was a whiz with numbers.
Gabrielle had a mind for business, and I was in charge of customer service, public relations, and managing the staff.
However, it was nice having a wider circle of people we could trust, and who our kids could trust.
“I’m still coming here to work,” I said to my pouty nieces and nephews.
“And you’ll see Marco at school. We won’t be gone for long.
Just until we get a handle on what’s going on and figure out how to keep Marco—and all of you—safe.
” Marco leaned into me, and I wrapped an arm around him.
“Jagger already said you’re all welcome to come visit.
I glanced back at my bearded snack. “All at the same time too, right?”
Much to my chagrin, his feathers didn’t ruffle at all. “I’m used to having six hooligans in my house. Bring it on.”
“Super Uncle right here,” Wyatt said, joining us. “He even wakes up at five every morning and sleeps on Bennett’s couch so Bennett and Justine can go for a morning run together.”
My brows went skyward, and I glanced at Jagger.
“Not right now,” he added. “It’s too frosty in the morning, so they’ve switched to evening runs until the roads aren’t so icy.”
“We’re just about done here,” Clint said. “Then we’ll teach you guys how to use it all.”
“I’m gonna get these two settled in at my place,” Jagger said, squeezing my shoulder before swinging open the driver’s side door.
Marco piled into the backseat, and I climbed into the front passenger.
Jagger started the engine and rolled down all of our windows. “I’ll have them back before you know it. Something tells me these two are like bad fish anyway. They start to stink after three days.”
Marco chuckled, and I swatted Jagger’s chest.
Everyone waved, and we waved back as my jerk, that wasn’t actually a jerk, pulled out of the driveway. “So, I’m serious when I say this to both of you,” he started, glancing into the rearview mirror at Marco.
Wait, what the hell was he getting at? Were we about to get a lecture? Don’t touch my shit. Use a coaster. Quiet hour is between ten and seven.
“My home is your home. Go into the fridge, eat whatever you’d like.
Don’t feel like you have to ask for a glass of water.
Just grab what you want. What you need. There’s lots of food—go crazy.
I don’t care. Have a shower when you want to.
I mean, be mindful if you’re the first to shower and two more people need to, but other than that, please make yourselves at home, okay? ”
Oh, this man just kept surprising me.
“I understand this is a weird situation all around. So I don’t want to do anything to make it weirder.” He faced me. “If you want to cook, cook. You don’t have to cook for me, but if you feel like cooking or baking, or grinding meat for your own sausages, then do it.”
Marco snickered in the backseat.
Jagger flashed me a big grin. “Does everybody understand that there’s to be no awkwardness in my house? None. I won’t have it. If you’re awkward, I’ll tell you to cut that out.”
More chuckles from my kid eased the tension constricting my heart. I reached across the bench seat for Jagger’s hand and gave it a squeeze, mouthing, “Thank you.”
He shot me a wink. Then we drove the rest of the way to his family property, mostly in silence, the terror of the day playing over and over in my mind like a horror film. My brothers were now helping Soloman. This was like a nightmare come to life.
Azriel and Ezekiel were twins. And they were monsters.
They weren’t nearly as terrible as my oldest brother, Ozais, though.
He was a combination of my father, Josiah, and Soloman all rolled into one toxic abomination.
Nobody will ever be able to convince me otherwise that Ozais isn’t a psychopath.
The man has no soul, no light in his eyes, and certainly no moral compass.
His wife makes my own mother look like a lively, chatty Kathy.
And, of course, Ozais cursed the world with six sons: Ira, Isaiah, Zion, Asa, Lucius, and Cyrus.
Each one of them being taught to emulate their father and grandfather, and treat their future wives like chattel.
Where were Azriel and Ezekiel now?
Gabrielle called Myla and told her what happened.
She put out an island-wide BOLO for my brothers, and authorities from the mainland were on their way over as well.
Azriel and Ezekiel didn’t really have two brain cells to rub between them.
So my money was on this being Ozais’s brainchild.
All three of my brothers were probably on the island somewhere, either waiting for another opportunity to strike, or hiding until things cooled off and they could escape back to the mainland.
It wasn’t that big of an island. There weren’t too many places to hide, particularly if they didn’t have a vehicle and took the water taxi over.
We arrived at the McEvoy property and, just like the last time when I came here to ask Jagger to ask me out again, we had to wait for the gate to open. A wave of fragile relief washed over me when it closed, with us safely behind it.
“They’re all the same, just different colors. Like Skittles,” Marco remarked as Jagger drove past his brothers’ houses to his gray one on the far end. “That’s kind of cool.”
Jagger parked his truck and started unloading our stuff. “Door’s unlocked. If your mom’s cool with giving you first pick of the rooms, you can head upstairs and choose between the two guest rooms. Big one’s mine, obviously.”
Marco grabbed his duffel bag and headed for the front door, his posture stiffer than normal because we were in a new place.
As much as he was getting comfortable with Jagger, he’d never been to his house before, and my kid changed when he was somewhere new.
With his hand on the knob, he glanced back at me, unsure.
I nodded. “Go on. You can have first pick of the rooms.”
He entered the house while I helped Jagger grab the rest of the stuff.
“You two don’t pack lightly,” Jagger teased, unable to see where he was going, his arms were so loaded. “It’s like you’re moving in for good or something.”
“Oh, if that were the case, you’d have to make several trips just for my plants.” I took his lead and just unloaded everything at the base of the stairs, then went back and closed the door.
“I’m taking the room on the left,” Marco called from upstairs.
“Good choice,” Jagger replied. “That one has a partial ocean view.”
“So, I’m stuck with the garden view?” I chided.