Page 14 of Little Nightmare

“Negative.” Serena burst out laughing. “But you’re welcome to double check.”

"Shit!” Grimacing, he used one finger to push the plate away.

“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!” Damon yelled. “Daddy yell shit, Mommy!”

"DADDY IS NOT YELLING SHIT!” Ash yelled.

Claire walked around the corner narrowed her eyes, handed Serena a glass of wine and slowly backed away with a grin. “Swear jar, sweetie, you’re up.”

Ash swiped Damon from the table and started marching toward the sliding glass doors. “Raven, if your dad asks, it’s not blood in the pool, it’s pasta sauce and it’s sausage. It will always be sausage. He can send me a bill for the cleanup, but if I have to walk up those stairs instead of dipping this one in the pool I might lose my mind.”

“My lips are sealed.” I actually cracked a smile.

He held Damon far away from him then let out a long sigh. “Look, if you need to talk?—”

“Go away,” I snapped, my smile evaporating. “Dip your child in the chlorine already.”

"Might douse him with vodka to kill all the germs afterwards. Where’s a good parenting award when you need it?”

His words were light, his eyes were dark though, like he wanted to say more and knew it wasn’t the right time.

I waved him off and quickly went to the adult buffet table and started grabbing food. Tempest was sitting by herself in the corner, staring at her phone, smiling, and sipping some red wine.

I joined her, poured a glass to make it look like I was going to drink it, and stared down at my plate.

Huh. I should have paid better attention.

"New TikTok challenge?” Tempest pointed her wine glass at my plate. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen marshmallows dipped in mustard, though it seems to be all the rage to make these weird plates with mustard and vegetables. Is that a twirler next to your green jello?”

Yeah, utter fail.

I shoved the plate away. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Her phone went off again.

She bit down on her bottom lip and started twisting her golden brown hair around her fingertip.

It was her boyfriend.

The one Dad hated.

The one she loved because Dad hated him and because the guy was too stupid to believe Dad would, in fact, remove the guy’s dick from his body using a dull knife if he ever as much as touched Tempest without his permission.

Tempest reached her hand across the table and placed it on my arm. “I’m here, when you’re ready. I know you’re overwhelmed right now. He was?—”

I hated talking about him in the past tense but not as much as when others did.

Tempest’s phone lit up again. She swallowed slowly and lifted her blue eyes toward mine. She started wearing contacts when she was twelve so people could tell us apart, along with dying her hair and having her own funky sense of fashion. “He’s here.”

Of course he was. “Go. He’s probably waiting and the last thing we need is for him to take a step into the house without Dad’s permission.”

“He did pull a gun on him last time.”

I nodded. “He deserved it. He forgot to bow.”

“He thought I was kidding when I told him Dad demanded it.”

I found myself smiling. “Wearemafia royalty.”

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