Epilogue – Part I
KC
“Pa, you didn’t have to do all this.” I absorbed the sight of the massive table full of food.
It wasn’t often Pa went all out with dinner, but he wasn’t a fan of inviting people over, either.
He preferred solitude, with me, Barber, and Grandpa the only people he was happy to hang around.
Being an assassin came with a lot of negatives, and while the Society had rules about not attacking the family of other members or children in general, that rule did not extend to friends.
Pa huffed and gave me a pointed look. He sat at the head of the table, presiding over us like a king.
On his right was Barber, Errol, and Sophie, and on his left was me, Ren, and Oliver.
When Pa had extended the invitation, he’d made sure I was very aware that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
While he hadn’t pushed me to eat, he’d been making sure there was food that I’d reintroduced into my life. Small things, like eggs.
“He was in the kitchen all day.” Barber sat up straight, pride flashing across his face as he sent Pa a fond look. “He wanted to tell you he ordered it, but he didn’t. He wanted to make it perfect.”
Pa narrowed his eyes at Barber in warning. “Luke.”
“What? You deserve the recognition.” He shrugged, immune to Pa’s glares.
Pa cleared his throat. “I wanted us to be here as a family. Your grandpa would’ve been here, but he has a date.”
I choked on air. “With who?”
“That hot neighbor of his,” Barber answered before Pa could.
“Hot?” I scrunched up my face. “Gina? Isn’t she, like, seventy?”
“Hot for seventy.” He shrugged again. “I don’t discriminate. Before I met your pa, I had fun with a lot of men. As long as they were over eighteen, why not? Had a seventy-four-year-old once. He rocked that bed.”
Pa slammed his hand a little too hard on the table, and Barber jumped, then smiled at Pa apologetically while batting his eyelashes.
“You’re the only one for me now, though. You do the best rocking.”
“Ew,” Sophie and I said at the same time.
“Too much information,” Sophie muttered, and I agreed with a nod.
I did not want to hear about my Pa having sex.
Sure, he was only in his thirties and still young, but fuck.
Not cool. Not at all. He’d still raised me.
I liked to pretend he and Barber lay in bed and sang Taylor Swift songs or something.
“Anyway,” Pa said sharply. “I wanted us to do something nice. Also, to welcome new family members.” His gaze raised to Ren and Oliver. “I’m willing to accept anyone who takes care of my son.”
Since the moment we’d arrived, Ren was a little quieter than usual.
He’d said hello, then kept to himself, and I suspected he might be afraid to say the wrong thing.
It was strange to see him so silent, but I also understood.
Since my breakdown, Pa and he hadn’t really seen each other.
Pa had been busy with his life, and we’d been busy with ours.
Pa wasn’t always the most pleasant person when he got overprotective, either, and Ren had used me and Oliver for revenge in the beginning.
Ren met Pa’s stare, though, and Pa gave him a short nod.
“If you make KC happy, then you have my approval.” Pa grabbed his glass of champagne and raised it. “To Ren and Oli.”
Oli’s chest puffed out and he grinned widely, knocking his shoulder against Ren’s.
Barber cheered and raised his beer, and Errol and Sophie followed suit.
I pressed a kiss to Ren’s cheek and leaned around his back to give Oli one on the lips. “I’m lucky to have them.”
Ren snorted. “We’re pretty fucking lucky to have each other.”
Pa made a sound in agreement and waved his hand. “Let’s not get too mushy. Eat. Luke is right, I was in the kitchen all day.” He smirked. “Tell me what a great cook I am.”
“I do that every day.” Barber pouted.
“You don’t count anymore. I’ve heard it enough from you.
” Still, Pa gave him a soft smile and pinched his chin.
I’d never seen Pa so openly in love before Barber came along.
While Pa had been engaged previously, I hadn’t been around Dean for long before Pa had no choice but to kill him.
It was a tragic story and one Pa had told me once and only once. He didn’t like to relive the past.
Everyone started dishing out food, and I focused on my empty plate.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
Dr. Griffin had instructed me to take control of my brain.
“While the brain is a powerful organ, KC, you can train it to believe the food you put in your mouth is delicious, that it won’t hurt you.
” I’d been working on said training, and slowly, very slowly, I’d reintroduced food back into my diet without having the taste of ash in my mouth.
Healing was an incremental progress, but Dr. Griffin told me any step forward was a good one.
One day at a time. Ren and Oli didn’t push me.
They helped how they could. I’m sure either one of them would drive a hundred miles to get me a particular food if I said I wanted it.
Pa was the same. He’d asked me what I needed, and when I’d told him “nudging without pressure,” he’d taken on the role seriously. Like now.
“Is there anything that strikes your fancy, sweetheart?” Ren asked, leaning closer and keeping his voice low. Everyone in this room knew about my issues, but both he and Oli made sure to keep our conversations quiet and private. I loved that.
“I have salmon,” Pa said. “And lean beef. I know you’ve been eating more of both.”
Tears prickled my eyes, and I inconspicuously wiped them. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything.
I added beef and salmon to my plate, then closed my eyes for a moment, focusing on convincing my brain it was fine. Everything was good for me. I had the control, not my brain. I took a deep breath.
Do you want to play football again? You need to eat. Give your body the fuel it needs.
I opened my eyes to look at the food again.
Everyone around me was eating, ignoring me to give me time to process what I was about to do.
Dr. Griffin gave Ren and Oli tips, and they passed them on to Pa and Barber.
The support they gave me was outstanding and I’d never been more thankful for my family and boyfriends until now.
Finally, when I felt ready, I dug my fork into the beef and shoved it into my mouth.
The flavor of garlic and butter burst on my tongue.
Pa had gone out of his way to make it as delicious as he could, but my mind rebelled at the idea that I wasn’t following Hawthorn’s meal plan.
It didn’t matter that I didn’t have to follow it, part of me wanted to do it.
“Baby.” Ren nudged me. “Tell your Pa about what Ripley said to you.”
I blinked and continued to chew until I swallowed. “Pa doesn’t follow hockey. He doesn’t know who Ripley is.”
“I saw him at that game with Ren. I know enough.” Pa’s face scrunched anyway. He was a snob about a lot of things and it always made me smile.
“Tell him what he said last week.” Ren nudged me with his elbow.
I chuckled. “He was telling me how he knew a couple of the NFL guys from the LA team. He wants to introduce me.”
“That’s great.” Pa paused. “Right?” His nose scrunched up double time and my chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh.
“Yeah, Pa. It’s good. He wants to introduce me to Calder Morrowfale. He’s one of LA’s linebackers.” I sliced up my salmon and slid a forkful into my mouth.
“One of? Sure. He’s also the fucking best.” Ren shook his head. “He’s got so many trophies under his belt, he’ll be going down in the history books. He’s reaching retirement age.”
Pa eyed me carefully, his gaze softening. It took me a moment to realize he was happy about the fact that I was eating. Ren was good at distracting me with conversation, taking me out of my head so I didn’t overthink food.
“He has a few years left in him,” I argued.
Oli leaned forward and waved his fork. “I’m going to pretend I know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t know anything about football?” Errol asked.
The conversation flowed. It changed from football to Sophie’s options for careers, which was more Pa, Barber, Ren, and Errol speaking while Sophie flopped against her dad and groaned.
Tenderness spread through me as I stared at the people surrounding me. Family. These were the men and woman who had helped me through the darkest days. They made me smile and laugh and they supported me in ways no one else could. I’d never been so happy in my life.
I would be all right. It would take a while, but I would fight. For me. And for them.