Vincent
VINCENT
I ran my fingers lightly across the knife blade, the weight familiar in my hand, the steel as sharp as any I’d ever seen. Deadly serrated points whispered seductively of the death and destruction they could inflict if manoeuvred in precisely the right way… All it would take was a simple wrist flick…
The thought alone sent a ripple of excitement down my spine.
It had been too long since I’d had blood on my hands.
It’s a fishing knife, V. Not a Lamborghini. Or a five-star meal. Or Bliss’s naked body. Don’t you dare embarrass us by drooling because you’re weapon-starved. Also, I don’t know if you’re aware, what with all the humping of that knife you’re thinking about doing, but there’s a group of crotch goblins all staring at you. They’re kinda creepy.
I blinked at Scythe’s voice in my head and stared down at the group of children who were indeed all gathered around me, gazing up at me with big, inquisitive eyes, waiting for me to say something.
“Fishing.” I tucked the knife back in its sheath where it was safe from my reminiscing. “Let’s go fishing, yes?”
Ripley and Jay, Mae’s older boys, cheered and charged toward the lake with their rods, not bothering to wait for the rest of the group. Rebel’s twins, and Lacey’s eldest child, Luna, all followed them excitedly, taking their cues from the boys.
On the bank, Ripley expertly cast his line out. At ten he was the eldest of the children and clearly a well-practiced fisherman after living here on the lake for the last few years. The house he shared with his younger brothers, plus Mae, Liam, Rowe, and Heath rose behind us, completely sheltered by the woods growing thick on all sides.
When the four families got together, which wasn’t often because it was hard to coordinate so many schedules, the decibel levels reached breaking point. Mae’s house on the lake was an ideal meeting spot with no neighbors for miles who would complain about the racket.
Younger kids swarmed around, their parents chasing after them, making sure no little hands were pricked by hooks. Bliss trailed Mila, our toddler, laughing with Rebel chasing her own daughter who wasn’t much younger.
“Daddy?” Lexa asked. “Can I use your knife, please? I need to cut up my bait.”
I didn’t miss the glint in our daughter’s eyes. While the other kids were impatient to get their lines out into the water, Lexa’s gaze lingered on the blade at my hip. Like the knife was more interesting than actually catching a fish.
So proud! Our stabby princess in the making!
I ignored Scythe, knowing none of us actually wanted to encourage a love of knives in our five-year-old.
Speak for yourself! I freely encourage her creative side. If that creative side just so happens to involve blood and death and killing, it’s really not my fault.
I sighed. It one hundred percent was his fault. Our fault. The small scythe-shaped birthmark on her hand proved that any genetic fascination with weapons came from us.
Scythe sniggered in my head, forever taking delight in tormenting me, though at least now when he did it, it was always with a sense of fun. Lighten up, V. It’s a party. She’s not going to murder anyone. Except maybe Nash’s bad fashion sense. And frankly, she’d be doing us all a favor there.
I took the knife out and handed it to Lexa, watching her closely as she dropped down onto the grass and opened up the package full of unpleasant-smelling bait.
She cut through the plastic with an ease she shouldn’t have at five, and then made small, neat cuts through the squid, making each square of bait nearly identical to the last. It wasn’t the first time we’d supervised her with a knife sharp enough to hurt someone. Though we generally channeled her interest into cooking, her skills were actually quite impressive.
Despite myself, I smiled, wondering how I’d gotten lucky enough to have her as my daughter.
“Toddler incoming!” Bliss called, her voice slightly puffed.
Mila launched herself at me, giggling up a storm at having outrun her mother.
I caught her, pulling her onto my lap and kissing the top of her head. The sweet scent of her hair was so familiar, her tiny body so warm when she snuggled into me. Late afternoon sun cast a glow across her chubby baby features as she stuck one thumb in her mouth and sucked on it.
Bliss put her hands on her hips, breathing hard, her belly all sweetly rounded with a third child. “She’s so fast. Or I’m so slow. Maybe both.”
I rose to my feet, propping Mila on my shoulder who instantly laid her head down but watched her sister with interest.
I pressed my lips to Bliss’s. “You’re pretty with pink cheeks.”
“I look like a beached whale sweating in the sun. Throw a bucket of water on me. I’m done.”
I frowned at her and then cast an eye around, spotting one we’d used to carry the bait in. “Can you watch Lexa while I get some water?”
Bliss laughed and took the bucket from my hand, pressing up on her toes to brush her lips over mine again. “I love that you would keep me alive until I could be pushed back out to sea.”
I realized it was a joke. I was getting better at noticing them now. “Of course I would.”
She smiled up at me with so much love in her eyes it was almost tangible. I would move a hundred whales back into the ocean if it made her happy.
A shout came from the water’s edge, everyone crowding around Ripley. Little Dog ran in excited circles, yipping her joy.
Lexa glanced over, then back up at me. “Why are they shouting?”
I peered in the direction of the lake but couldn’t see what the source of the commotion was. “He might have caught a fish.”
Lexa cocked her head to one side. “Or maybe a crab? That would be better than a fish.”
Mila made cute, tired little crab pincer movements with her fingers.
“Could be an eel.” Bliss scrunched up her nose.
Or a penguin! Scythe shouted in my head.
I didn’t bother relaying that one to the others.
Heath and Rowe cheered when Ripley landed a small fish, and Lexa handed me back the knife, suddenly keen to get her own line in the water now that she knew the fish were biting.
“Can you take Mila?” I asked Nash, drawing his attention from pouring apple juice into a cup for one of Rebel’s kids.
He put the cup in Remi’s hand, who thanked him politely, before he straightened and turned to me, smiling softly at our sleepy girl. “Sure can. Just let me take this shirt off. She makes me hot when she’s snuggly like that.” He stripped off his regular flannel shirt and tossed it onto the grass, leaving him in just a fitted tee.
Scythe’s snort of laughter in my head was loud. Tell Nash his pink shirt makes him look like a flamingo.
Men can wear pink, I argued back silently. And clearly that shirt used to be white. Someone must have washed it with one of his red flannel shirts.
Tell him he looks like cotton candy. No, wait, tell him to be careful, the kids might think he’s a marshmallow and want a bite. Oh! Ask him if he’s auditioning for the next Barbie movie. No costume needed.
Nash, thankfully completely unaware of Scythe’s ridiculous chatter in my head, held his hands out to Mila who sleepily reached her chubby arms to him.
Mila handed off, I followed Lexa down to the bank, helping all the kids reload their hooks.
Nash followed and stood next to me, swaying slightly while smoothing a hand up and down Mila’s back. “The kids are loving this.”
I nodded. “They are.”
“We’re going to need more bait, though. They’re going through it at the rate of knots.”
He was right. We’d grossly underestimated how many of the kids would want to fish.
You could use Little Dog as bait.
My mouth dropped open. You love that dog as much as the rest of us do.
Do not.
I rolled my eyes. Switch with me then. Traumatize the children yourself.
Scythe chuckled in my head. Mae’s boys need toughening up.
Mae’s boys are awesome. Ripley is so good at baseball. And Jay is very intelligent. Cas—
Casper is named after a friendly ghost. That kid is going to get teased from day one of kindergarten and we all know it.
This is why nobody likes you. You know that, right?
Everybody loves me, V. Even you.
It was annoying that I couldn’t even deny it.