Page 12 of Redeem Me

“He’s really good, Mom,” Kiera insists. “Like Gordon Ramsay.”

Siobhan narrows her eyes and asks, “Who taught you to say that?”

When Kiera only grins at her sister and shrugs, Sync squats between the girls and hugs them. “Your mom has fish breath.”

“Girls, explain to your father how his drunken mumbles don’t impress you.”

Deirdre pats Sync’s face and quotes her mother’s favorite song. “You’re drunk, Daddy. Go home.”

“But I am home.”

Kiera laughs and runs off. Deirdre keeps patting her father’s face, seeming really sympathetic to his sad expression. Then, like her mom after too many Jello shots, the child flashes him a devious look and runs away.

“Ladies are complicated,” Tack says as the girls climb in the back seat of the four-door truck. “Just when you think you can bribe them with bland casseroles and bad rock songs, they leave you in the dust.”

Sync points at Tack and growls, “Don’t talk shit about Night Ranger.”

Before Siobhan leaves, I expect her to say something snide to her ex. Instead, she looks at me and smiles softly.

“You have a good day, Bear.”

The five of us frown at her, winning a middle finger for our efforts. Siobhan speeds off, driving like shit as usual.

“She knows something,” Golden says, wearing a conspiratorial look as his blue eyes narrow. “Aunt Fred told her what she hasn’t told us.”

Shrugging, I mumble, “Probably.”

“It’s bullshit,” Golden bitches before falling silent and closing his eyes. “Fucking bullshit.”

Not too long after he makes this wise announcement, I receive a cryptic message from Zoot.

“Come to the office. I want to speak to you.”

My mind fills with possible bad news. Ready to feed my paranoia, Golden chooses to come along. A restless Indigo decides to join us. Tack decides he doesn’t want to listen to Night Ranger and ditches Sync.

During the ride across town, I’m overly aware of every cop car we pass. I feel eyes on us. I’m certain we’re about to get hit.

I only settle down when I speed past our clubhouse. Above Snakes Bar & Grill is where I first saw Natasha Kovak’s belly button. No matter how much I try to distract myself, I feel that woman’s claws digging deep in me today.

NATASHA

I’m never summoned for breakfast with the family. The estate manager arrives to take our food order and ask a million questions about the children’s needs. I expect her to mention how my parents would like to see me. When I ask about Petra, I learn she’s enjoying breakfast with the rest of the family.

Jacinda and Hector don’t mind remaining in my bedroom suite. It’s nearly as large as our old house. They like the bay window, where they sit and point at people moving around below.

I find myself overly focused on my tackboard. Most photos are of Siobhan, Hunter, and me. I have several of Ollie frowning at the camera. He always wore a confused expression on his face. Life on the autism spectrum made everything more difficult. His lazy, selfish family didn’t help him. I was the only one who cared if he lived or died.

Wiping tears from my eyes, I feel myself sinking into a dark place. I’ve never really processed the pain of his death or Bear’s hand in it.

Instead, I ran away, met the kids, and focused on making them happy. Now, I’m right back in the place—physically and emotionally—I was when I fled.

The knock at the door leaves me stuck in place. I can’t deal with more judgment. My body hurts from Andrew’s angry hands. My heart breaks over poor dead Ollie. I don’t know how I can protect my babies in Banta City.

When another, harder knock follows, the kids run to the door and try to open it. I force my feet to move.

I find Leon staring at me with his cold blue eyes. “You have a visitor.”

“Who is it?”

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