Page 31 of Otto: The Hawthornes

Not knowing if there had been any fallout to Esther and I hooking up was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Even the thought of ignoring it made me feel like ants were crawling under my skin. Maybe she’d just blown me off… but Esther didn’t seem like the type to say she’d meet you and then not show—unless there was a reason. Ihadto know she was okay. Once I did that, I’d let my dad know that I had a connection to her. No need to drag her into the middle of shit unless I had to.

Everyone was already at my parents’ house when I got there and I barely escaped getting head-butted in the nuts when my nephew ran at me the minute I walked through the door.

“Hey, Racing Rhett.” I lifted him off the floor and flipped him upside down, making him squeal. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Havin’ dinner!” he replied through his giggles.

“Nah, Grandma made this dinner just for me,” I argued, walking through the house while I dangled him above the floor by his ankles. “What are you gonna eat?”

“She made dinner for me!”

“No way, man.” I lifted him and got one arm wrapped around his chest so I could flip him right side up again, knocking into one of the picture frames on the wall in the process. “Whoops.”

“I’m tellin’,” he said, laughing as I slung him over my shoulder. “No dinner for you!”

“Snitches get stitches,” I replied, straightening the frame.

“Please don’t teach my son that,” Emilia said in exasperation, scooting around me. “I’m trying to keep him from being a hooligan like the rest of you.”

“Think you’re too late,” I said, chuckling as Rhett tried to get me back by punching me in the lower back.

“Rhett Hawthorne,” Emilia scolded. “Knock it off.”

“Uncle started it,” he whined, kicking his legs a little so I’d let him down.

“I’m ending it,” Emilia said firmly as I put Rhett back on his feet. “Go wash your hands.”

“They’re clean!”

“Go.” She gave him the mom stare and he hurried toward the bathroom.

“You’re such amom,” I joked, bumping into her deliberately as I passed her.

“You’re such an uncle,” she replied, shoving me a little from behind.

“Emilia Hawthorne,” I scolded in the exact same tone she’d used on Rhett. “Hands to ourselves, please.”

She laughed. “Ass.”

As we got to the kitchen, I saw Titus across the room. He must’ve been waiting for me because he was looking right at us. Emilia moved toward the cupboards to help my mom set the table and Titus jerked his chin toward the back door so I’d follow him. I said my hellos to everyone and then acted like I was going outside to grab a beer out of the fridge on the porch.

“Smooth,” I said dryly as I closed the door behind me.

“Fuck off.” He watched as I grabbed myself a beer. Might as well get one while I was out there. “So, I talked to Esther’s little sister today.”

“You what?” I barked, spinning to face him.

“Do you want everyone to know you fucked Esther Allen?” he hissed, looking at the door behind me. “Jesus!”

“Why the fuck would you think it was a good idea to talk to her sister?” I ground out. Visions of Titus getting caught up in the bullshit if we found out that Esther’s church had stolen the guns made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack. He was kept out of club business and had absolutely no idea what was going on. I’d been his age when I’d killed Emilia’s attacker and not only would I not wish that on any seventeen-year-old, but Titus was a younger seventeen than I’d been. He was practically a goddamn baby.

“We’re friends.”

“You’re friends?” I asked incredulously. “With Esther’s sister?”

“Okay, maybe not friends,” he conceded. “But we talk sometimes. We’re both in the same woodshop class and we were partners on a project.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, looking up at the roof.

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