Page 90 of American Hellhound
“You just asked me if Cal was ‘the middle one.’ Not feeling the love, Grammie.”
“You–”
“Brat? Impudent little shit? Trust me, I know. Think whatever you want about me, but it’d be great if you could go a little easier on Mom.”
Denise fumed silently. Ava imagined she could hear the crash of artillery fire in the woman’s head as she warred with her short temper. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked after a moment.
“Nothing. She’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Denise pushed back from the table, brows shooting up, totally shocked.
“Yes.”
“Was…it planned?”
“No.”
“But she’s–”
“Over forty, yes. She’s aware,” Ava said drily. “The doctor said everything looks fine.”
“I…” Speechless. No doubt, her head was full of insults, and couldn’t decide which should break loose first.
Ava wasn’t going to give her a chance to voice them. In as gentle a voice as she could manage, she said, “I know everything about Dad offends you. He’s the opposite of everything you wanted for Mom. But he’s a good husband. And you don’t get to choose who your kids marry – just hope they’re good to them.” A lesson she’d had to teach Ghost. “If you really do love Mom, you’ll stop trying to make her miserable.”
Denise opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I’m not…I don’t…”
“Please,” Ava repeated, firm. “Things are stressful right now.”
A long moment passed.
“Mama?” Cal called from the living room.
Finally, Denise gave a jerky nod.
Ava chose to see it as a victory.
~*~
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Maggie popped the tab on yet another can of Sprite – she was getting damn sick of the stuff. “I knew you’d drive over and there was no need. Plus, the kids didn’t need to see that.”
Ava held Millie in her lap now, the boys working through a book of mazes with Lucy on the sofa beneath the Lean Dogs flag. She frowned. “Still.”
They were in the clubhouse, and the liquor selection behind the bar was currently mocking Maggie. Ava and Holly had sodas in a show of solidarity, and the sugar was probably making them all edgier.
“The man from yesterday,” Holly said. She’d grown since Maggie first met her, subtle layers of confidence and security where once there had only been prey-drive and fear. “I didn’t get the impression you were on friendly terms.”
“We’re not,” Maggie confirmed, frowning. “The thing is.” Her chest felt tight and unsteady with nerves just remembering. “When I was sixteen, a girl at school spray painted ‘Lean Bitch’ on my car.”
“Shit,” Ava breathed.
Holly gasped a little.
“None of our current crew was around then. The only ones who would know are Ghost, Collier…and Roman.”
“Not a coincidence,” Ava said.
