Chapter Twenty-Seven—Kendall
Kendall had a laundry list of motherfuckers she needed to talk to. Bash sat at the top. Everyone else?
Bailey? She’d just as soon punch her.
Johnnie? Ditto. Bits and pieces of last night floated to her. The camaraderie while drinking with Christopher. Johnnie’s indignation at finding them enjoying each other’s company.
He couldn’t understand that it had been nothing sexual. She’d just been Christopher’s friend, and he hers.
Of course, Johnnie saw it differently. The morning after, when she’d awakened in her bed, he’d been glaring down at her.
“I’ve watched you the entire fucking night, wife,” he’d snarled to her when she asked how long he’d been awake.
The bags under his red-rimmed eyes and his grumpiness backed up his claim.
He’d been red with anger and green with jealousy. They’d argued, but she’d been too hungover to really engage with him. At the end of his tirade, she’d begged him to help her with Bash. Aboveboard, instead of in the underhanded manner he wanted her to help him.
He’d declined and made her life miserable for the past five days. She saw no choice but to seek Mortician’s help. He’d probably expose her intentions, though she understood why, so she’d added another name to her list of people to visit or call.
Christopher. She’d prefer not to poke the bear, but she’d promised him honesty, so she had to stiffen her spine, face him and talk to him about Bash.
If only her sister-in-law wasn’t still in the hospital and so broken-hearted over Rule, Kendall would run to her for advice, girl talk, and a sisterly hug.
Roxy? Well, Roxy was like a mother to Kendall, which was why she found herself sitting on a kitchen stool, nursing a glass of wine hours after she walked away from Mortician.
She’d driven around for so long, she’d ended up in Portland.
It was only Rory’s phone call and Mattie’s text, concerned about Kendall’s absence, that reminded her she was loved and wanted.
Roxy sat on the stool next to Kendall. Knox Harrington stood on the opposite side, talking to his son. She’d walked in on a serious discussion but instead of asking her to leave, Roxy invited her in.
“I’m more here than there, Dad,” Grant argued. Apparently, he wanted to leave Harvard. “I’m always playing catch-up because of family emergencies. And, lately, when I’m there, I’m waiting for the next call. I’m tired of Boston and of college. I have a different plan for my life.”
Oh-oh.
“Graduating from Harvard is a Harrington tradition!” Knox sputtered.
Kendall clenched her jaw to keep from interfering. Long ago, she and Knox put their differences aside. They were friendly, but he was still an uptight motherfucker. If Kendall didn’t miss her mark, Grant was about to knock Knox for a loop with his own revelation.
He turned a pleading gaze to Roxy. “Talk to him, Roxanne! Tell him he can’t leave college.”
“This isn’t about you, Knox.” Dark circles ringed Roxy’s eyes and she looked as if she’d lost weight. “It’s about Grant.”
Knox gasped.
And they called her a drama queen. Rolling her eyes, Kendall sniffed, unable to stop herself.
“What, Kendall? What?” Knox demanded. “Say whatever it is you’re thinking.”
Kendall took a dainty sip of wine, when she only wanted to swipe the bottle and guzzle it the fuck down. “I was thinking that Roxy’s losing weight.”
“What?” Knox snapped his brows together and paled. “Roxanne, baby, are you…?”
How could this unobservant motherfucker ever have been a PI? No wonder he’d been discovered almost instantly.
“I’m still in remission,” Roxy said gently. “I just miss Bailey and Harley. I want to beat both those bitches to the ground, but…” She shrugged and swallowed, gathering her composure and refusing to allow the tears pooling in her eyes to fall. “I miss them.”
Rushing to her, Knox drew her in his arms, took her face between his hands and brushed her lips with his own. “I’m so sorry. What do you need from me?”
“Yeah, Roxy,” Grant inserted, shifting his weight. “Whatever it is, let us know. If you want me to stay in school…if that’ll help, I’ll go.”
Kendall took another sip of wine, her heart hurting, wishing for the same unity and understanding from her husband.
“Sugar, I never wanted you to leave,” Roxy said to Grant, leaning her head against Knox’s chest. “But it wasn’t my place to interfere. I prayed you’d choose somewhere nearby and commute.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Knox asked, clueless as usual.
Like Johnnie.
Blonds alike. Idiots alike.
Grant shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m your son, too.” Uncertainty dropped into his face. “Right?”
“Of course, baby, but it still wasn’t my place to influence such a monumental decision. One that you and Knox had already worked out.”
“We didn’t mean to shut you out,” Grant said.
“You, Knox, and Hal visited the schools you chose. Joan and I both were left on the sidelines. Besides, we knew what university you and Hal wanted Grant to attend, Knox. The Harrington alma mater. My opinion wouldn’t have mattered.”
The more Roxy spoke, the more horrified Knox looked.
Another sip of wine prevented Kendall from relaying what was so fucking obvious, a dead man could see.
Roxy cleared her throat, eyed Grant, then looked at Knox. “I didn’t want you to blame me when Grant patched in. If he’d stayed, it would happen sooner rather than later.”
“Patched in?” Knox asked, blinking. “As in joining the club? I know that. Why would that be a problem?”
Kendall did roll her fucking eyes, while Grant and Roxy looked at each other.
“What am I missing?” Knox asked slowly.
“Mortician called me this evening,” Roxy announced.
Grant tensed.
“Even if I hadn’t talked to the boy, I already knew.” Roxy smiled with encouragement at Grant. “You want me to tell him, sugar?”
“Tell me what?” Knox demanded. “How fucking dare Mortician talk to my son about what sounds like a serious matter and don’t have the decency to tell me?
” He fisted his hands on his hips and met Grant’s gaze.
“Spit it out, mister. Unless you intend to tell me you want to piss away school and become a full-time biker, I don’t understand what’s all the mystery about. ”
The fuckhead finally got it.
Kendall drained her glass.
Absently, Roxy refilled it, since no one had returned the chardonnay to the wine cooler built into a portion of the island. “That’s exactly what it is, Knox,” she said. “Grant wants to be a biker.”
Eyes widening, Knox lost all his color and he gasped. “A biker? As a profession?”
“Yeah, sugar.”
“No. Absolutely not!” he said, then looked at Grant again. “Is that true, son? You want to join a world of mayhem and lawlessness?”
“Calm down before you put your fucking foot in your mouth,” Roxy warned. “It’s Grant’s life. If he wants to dress up in a bear costume and juggle for a living, we don’t have anything to say about it.”
“The fuck we don’t! We’ve worked hard to give him a good fucking life and this is how he repays us?”
“Dad, we’re both nepo babies,” Grant inserted. “What do you mean you’ve worked hard?”
“Nepo babies?” Knox sounded even more appalled. “Did you just call me a fucking nepo baby?”
“Excuse me,” Grant sneered. “Trust fund baby. Generational difference.”
“You’re grounded, buster!”
“I’m twenty-two-years old. How can you ground a grown man?”
“When that grown man is a fucking immature idiot,” Knox snarled.
“Enough, Knox! You can’t insult Grant because you’re disappointed in his choices,” Roxy scolded.
Knox ignored her. “You were supposed to graduate from law school. Join the firm’s legal team.
I always hoped you’d one day want to follow in my footsteps and take over the reins of Harrington Enterprises.
Once I’m gone, the board will elect someone outside of the family and we’ll lose a company that we’ve headed for generations. ”
“I know, Dad, and I’m sorry. But, yeah, I want to be a biker. I even have a cool road name.”
Knox choked.
“Nepo,” Grant said, grinning. “But I can’t very well prospect if I’m hundreds of miles away in Boston.”
“Do you know what the Death Dwellers do, son? Kill people. They’re murderers.”
“Are you a killer, Dad?” Grant asked with disgust. “Aren’t you a member?”
Knox stiffened. “I resent that fucking question. You know I’m not a killer. They are. He is.”
“Who? Outlaw?”
“Aren’t we talking about his club, son? Whose footsteps are you following? Mine or Outlaw’s.”
“CJ’s.”
“WHAT?” Knox snarled, storming to where Grant stood on the other side of the breakfast bar.
“You can’t be serious. He’s a child under you.
You set the example for him, not the other way around.
” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Christ! I can’t believe this.
Well, my answer is no. Fuck no! Joining the club is one thing.
Becoming a full-time criminal is another and hanging on CJ’s coattails means something else entirely. ”
“I know what it means, Dad.”
“And you’re okay with that? You’re okay taking a man’s life? For no fucking reason other than they got on the wrong side of the club?”
“Why was Mom’s life taken? Where’s the justice for her?”
The words doused Knox’s anger, and he stared at his son, his horror and despair returning.
Grant glanced at Roxy and gave her a sad smile. “I mean no disrespect to you. I am so lucky to have you as a stepmom. A second mom.”
“I’m made of sturdier stuff than that, sugar,” Roxy said. “You got every right to feel as you do. Callie gave birth to you, and she loved you.”
“Dad, I love Mom’s parents, but I’m so fucking tired of having my every move dissected and remarked upon because I’m acting like her.
They make me watch home movies and look at photo albums. They want me to be her.
I’ve tried to tell them I’m me. I’ve told them, it just brings back the pain of losing her .
No matter what my counselor said all those years ago, it’s sometimes hard to forget that Mom died angry with me. She died hating me.”