Page 49 of The Homecoming

“No, that’s his cover. That’s what he wants you to believe. He’s a paid assassin, he murders innocent people.”

“If he’s a paid killer, he’s not very efficient; he’s been gone a long time,” she replied.

He scowled. “I’m not joking, Autumn. I’m very serious.”

“Yes, this is serious,” she agreed.

“You do not want him to know about the baby. You have to hide the baby from him,” he said.

“Okay,” she replied. The best course of action would be to appease Jason and get him back to bed.Maybe he’s in a dream?

“You have to hide the baby before he comes back.”

“I’ll do that,” she replied. “Now, let’s get you back to bed.”

“No, you stay here. Madera might be in the hall waiting.”

“I’m sure he’s not. If it makes you feel better, I’ll stay here. But, you have to go back to your bed. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded, stood, and left the room. Autumn waited until she heard his bedroom door close before she exhaled.

***

The week between Christmas and New Year’s, the guys decided to take a break from work, so Autumn spent the week at home and kept an eye on Jason. He never mentioned his bizarre middle of the night visit, and she wondered if she’d dreamed the whole thing. Not that he returned to any semblance of normal; now he was staying in bed all day and ignoring any mention of considering a doctor.

Autumn searched the internet for an apartment. With a baby on the way, it was time for her to get a place of her own. The corner of her bedroom was filled with boxes of baby supplies brought by relatives who’d come for Christmas. The sight of all the stuff highlighted the fact that she needed more room.

On New Year’s Eve, she returned to the farm to help the guys get ready for the small party they were having for their friends. With the beverages in the fridge to chill, she sat and watched Rebecca prepare the finger foods in the new state-of-the-art professional kitchen in the barn. If it were up to Autumn, she would’ve just purchased frozen appetizers and heated them in the oven. But not Rebecca, she’d studied Culinary Arts at Drexel University, which meant she only knew the words “handmade” and “fancy.” Her talents were probably wasted here in White Oak. Autumn sipped her mug of hot, decaffeinated tea and kept Rebecca company. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a neat bun to keep it out of her face, and the food, while she worked. She hadn’t said anything about Kyle or what had happened after that night at the farm.

“What happened with Kyle?” Autumn asked.

Rebecca popped a pan into the oven. “He left me a message that said I was overreacting and being stupid. So I sent Weasel to pick up my stuff from his apartment and left it at that.”

“Overreacted?” Autumn asked. “I think you underreacted. You should’ve grabbed something and beat him with it.”

Shrugging, she took a big gulp of water from her bottle. “Honestly… at that point, I don’t think it mattered anymore. It had been over for a while, and I just refused to admit it. Him screwing some whore was the catalyst I needed.”

“Well, I’m sorry it happened that way.”

Rebecca nodded.

“So, you sent Weasel, huh?”

She shrugged. “He offered, and I thought it was a good idea.”

“… so, Weasel?”

“What about him?” Rebecca asked.

“Ever thought about you and him?” Autumn smiled.

Rebecca shot her a look meant to convey the ridiculousness of the suggestion.

“He did offer to kill Kyle,” Autumn replied.

“He was being silly. And besides, I’m not his type and he’s not mine. He’s loud and obnoxious.”

Autumn wasn’t so sure about that. “He’s got a softer side.”

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