“Hey, Reb?” Mattie called as Rebel opened the door. “I was thinking about seeing if Harley wanted to bunk with us. The fourth bed just seems empty.”
“That’s because it is, doofus,” Rebel grumbled.
Mattie huffed. “I won't bring her in if you are against it, but she’s just so alone.”
Rebel tipped her head back. “Do I have to talk to her?”
“I’ll be sure to tell her you aren’t interested in a conversation with her.”
“Fuck, fine. Invite her,” Rebel barked, and stalked out.
Hopefully, Harley declined the invitation. No one told that bitch not to join them. Mattie and Winnie would’ve welcomed Harley, but for some fucking reason that heifer wantedRebelto make an overture.
Not.
Soft lighting and monochromatic schemes dominated the kid’s wing with Harley’s black and white bedroom the sole exception. The rec area where all the kids congregated during summer visits had shades of green, while the hallway bathroom had varying shades of yellow. The decor bored Rebel.
When she thought about it, the rest of the mansion wasn’t much better. Even the artwork was muted. Here and there, a vibrant red or purple popped up, but it was mainly understated.
A waste of money in Rebel’s eyes.
Gripping the banister, she started down the curved main staircase. Elegant, but nowhere nearly as awe-inspiring as the Caldwell bifurcated one.
Long minutes later she reached the ground level and looked up and down the hallway, trying to remember which door led to the gardens. When she got her bearings, she went right.
Humming halted her and she snapped her brows together. It was a little off-key, but she recognizedBaby Shark.
From the direction it came, Axel was in the kitchen. She thought about leaving him to his own devices, then worried that might be a mistake. However, if she took too long, Winnie would search for her and end up never going to sleep.
Just as she started forward, Axel came into view, carrying a tray with a half-gallon of milk, three pints of ice cream, four bananas, a bottle of chocolate syrup, a spoon, a glass, a bowl, and stacks of various cookies. He must’ve emptied every container he’d found.
He froze. Gasped. Glanced over his shoulder.
“Are you going to rat me out, Reb?”
“Nope.”
“Cool.” He gripped the tray tighter. “Can you help me carry this to my room? We can share some stuffs.”
He sounded so hopeful, Rebel hated to turn him down. “How about I carry the milk and the ice cream?” She held up her hand with the cast. “I haven’t learned the art of balancing a tray.”
It wasn’t easy balancing three pints of ice cream and milk with one useful hand but somehow she managed. Axel was sleeping in the room Kaleb and Lou Jr. used whenever they were in residence. The shades of gray would’ve driven Rebel mad.
Axel set the tray on the desk in front of the window, so Rebel followed his lead and placed the ice cream and milk back in their original spots.
“I wouldn’t eat all of that if I were you,” she said. “You’ll go into sugar shock. Or spend the rest of the night throwing up. Or both.”
“I thought we were going to share.”
“I was going for a walk outside. If I’m gone too long, Winnie will search for me and probably wake up half the fucking house. She hasn’t mastered the art of sneaking like us.”
“‘Cause of that motherfucker who gave birth to her.”
Rebel pursed her lips. “You’re calling Aunt Fee a motherfucker?”
“Of course not! I’m callingUncle Casha motherfucker.”
“Guys can’t give birth. They only make the babies.”