Page 23 of Kade

The others did the same. We shared a smile because damn, this week had sucked, and today was no exception.

“A toast to us motherfucking mothers,” I began. “Here’s to the men we fuck. To the kids we raise. To the work that goes unseen. We may love our families, but here’s to us. Because at the end of the day, we’re the queens. No one can fucking do what we do. Here’s to you, my sisters. Live. Laugh. Love. But most importantly, we all deserve an award for keeping our sanity.”

They all laughed and lifted their glasses a little higher before taking a drink.

“How are you holding up?” Heather asked.

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat. “It’s… It is what it is. I don’t really know what to say right now.”

“How’s Mason?” Quincey asked, glancing at Taylor. “And Logan?”

Taylor and I shared a look. We’d talked, but not in detail. There wasn’t time. My kids were older. They were less demanding, but their little Sammy was a handful. I’d been trying to help as much I could with the rest of the kids, as well as the animals. Nova’s tortoise had an attitude. If he didn’t get lettuce, he followed you from room to room, just watching. Staring. Judging you until you gave in and handed it over. He’d figured out that I knew the kitchen the best, and as soon as he was done eating whatever someone had given him, he’d come find me.

He didn’t make a sound, but his stare spoke volumes. Who knew tortoises could be so judgmental? Harold felt like a grumpy old man stuffed inside a giant turtle body.

“Logan’s… He’s hurting,” Taylor said after a moment.

“Same with Mason.”

“Grief is so hard.” Quincey frowned, staring into her drink.

I wondered if there was something more behind her words. Heather met my gaze with the same question. I could only shrug to her.

“The funeral’s tomorrow,” Heather noted. “The guys are all gone, probably getting into trouble trying to find Maddy and Max. We’ll handle it when they get back to us, if there’s anything to be worried about, but right now, I’m not.”

Taylor sat forward, her eyes shining. “What are you thinking, Heather?”

“I’m thinking we should take advantage of all the fourteen-year-olds we have in the house. Natessia can babysit. Nolan and Nash too. We could go out and have our own fun.”

Quincey tilted her head. “What are you thinking?” She looked at Taylor. “Would you be up for doing something?”

Taylor ran a hand over her bump. She looked tired, but smiled. “I’m thinking the guys have been spending a lot of time together. Why can’t we?”

“Exactly.” Heather’s grin grew wicked. “We don’t have to do anything crazy. I can make a call and reserve the back room at Manny’s. Music. Darts. Drinks. Food.”

Oh man. A night at Manny’s. Our private room. “I’m down for this. Let’s do it.”

“Wait.” Taylor stopped everyone before we could start getting up. She lifted her water in the air. “One more toast.” She waited until everyone raised their glasses with her. “We’ve met at different times in life. Some of us in high school. Some in college. Some even later than that. But once we met each other, a sisterhood began with all of us. It wove between us, bringing us close, but allowing us to separate as we each went to our homes. Boston. San Diego. Seattle. Fallen Crest. Now we’re all in one place. We’ve been brought together by a tragedy and we’re here for each other. Through birthday parties for goats, or campaigning for adult athletes or performing a ballet dance for a parakeet or praying whenever we hear a scream that our child wasn’t the one to draw blood, the point is that we’re in this together. We understand the crazy moments, the stressful moments, the times we’re pulling our hair out, pretending you need the bathroom when you have four paws and ten fingers sticking under the door. We understand the funny times. The reasons each of us fell in love with our partners in life. The joys of the future to come, and also the tragedies that will happen in the future as well. You. Me. Us. You are my sisters in this world, and I am one thankful bitch to have you all in my life. To us.”

Hell, yeah.

“To us!”

Taylor ended it with, “Now let’s go have some fun and see what version of Drunk Sam emerges.”

We toasted. We laughed. I shed a few tears.

We were ready to go out.

10

MASON

We passed through the warehouse to an area in the back, and I saw them right away. Maddy was standing with a group of guys. Two of them were holding her back—smooth little fucks. I didn’t like them—each with a hand on her arm as she lunged toward another group of guys. Those two reeked of elitist pricks while the other group of guys were rougher. If I had to guess, the rough group was Roussou, and the elitist assholes were from Fallen Crest Academy.

Then the Roussou guys shuffled to the side, and behind them were two guys fighting.

I recognized Max and cursed under my breath, picking up my pace. That’s why Maddy was trying to get loose.

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