Page 67 of Made
The name of the place rings a bell, but I can’t pinpoint why. Drake lived in Chicago for years. Maybe he’s mentioned it to me.
I flash Romeo a smile. “You had me going there.”
“Yeah. He’s a regular clown,” Ellie says.
“An ass-clown,” her brother Jayden adds, earning a mock-disapproving look from his dads.
Jayden is fourteen, skinny in the way boys of that age can be while they’re still sprouting upwards instead of filling out. Her little sister Melody is twelve and clearly wants to grow up as fast as humanly possible. The youngest, Iris, is ten and absolutely fucking adorable. All three of them, and Milo the Lab, crowd around their sister. They clearly all love her to pieces. Who can blame them? She’s fucking adorable. She listens to their stories, intervenes when they all try and talk at once, and exudes an older sibling energy that I’m familiar with myself.
She’s going to make a great mom one day.
I find myself delighted at that idea and wonder if and when we should have that conversation. I know she wants kids, and so do I, but for now I’m enjoying having her all to myself.
Why am I even having this conversation with myself, never mind her? We’ve been a couple for two months. Who knows where this thing will take us.
Yeah, Maddox, you just keep telling yourself that.Just keep pretending that you’re not already completely owned by this woman.
I follow the group into the kitchen, enjoying their vibe and their banter. Meeting her family feels like I’m seeing the final missing piece of the puzzle that is Ellie, especially when she’s spent so much time with mine. She’s talked about them, sure, but that’s not the same as sharing air with them. Meeting the people that she always says saved her.
Her and her siblings had nobody else. They arrived at the Phoenix Center just after her piece-of-crap father was arrested. He’s still in prison, where I hope he’s receiving the same kind of gentle treatment that he handed out to his own children. If he’s getting gang-raped every night and having the shit beaten out of him, it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. Ellie would be shocked if she knew I thought that. She thinks I’m more developed. When it comes to her—to the people I love—she’s dead wrong. Nathan was right on that score.
Inside the kitchen I’m greeted by two sights: a fucking huge Belgian Malinois racing towards me and Ellie’s almost adopted mom, Keres. I’m not sure which is the most intimidating. The dog turns out to be disinterested in me anyway, only seeking Ellie. She crouches down to meet him as he gallops into her arms. He shoves his giant head under her hands, and she falls to the floor, where the two of them wrestle. Lucky dog.
“Aw, Zeusy-weusy, my gorgeous little baby…I’ve missed you, sugar-butt.” She scratches the butt in question, and the dog wriggles around in ecstasy, licking her face like it’s a lollipop.
Zeusy-weusy? Sugar-butt? Just seconds ago this dog looked like a killing machine, and now it’s eating out of the palm of her hand. I can’t help but grin.
Keres walks towards me. She’s a striking woman with rich, dark hair, wearing biker leathers and huge boots that I have no doubt she will insert directly into my ass if I so much as look at Ellie wrong.
Again, I respect that. She smiles at the canine-human reunion and comes over to say hi. I feel the depth of her scrutiny, the way she pierces me like she can see into my very soul. Fuck, I hope not. There are things lurking in there I’m not exactly proud of.
“Maddox,” she says, nodding at me. “Nice to meet you. I believe you’re good in the kitchen?”
“Yes ma’am,” I reply, feeling like a kid being inspected. She’s actually a month younger than me, but I’m guessing in life experience, she’s older than most. “Good. You can make breakfast tomorrow morning. There’s a garden out back with fresh produce. Just don’t go digging around too deep, because that’s where we bury the bodies.”
She totally deadpans this, to the point where I’m not completely sure it’s a joke. A little wink tells me it is, and she finally laughs, making the corners of her eyes crinkle up. “Gotcha!”
“Yeah, you did. I see I’m going to have my work cut out for me here. It’s just like get-togethers with my own family.”
She smiles. “Do you have a big family?”
I nod. “Yeah, there’s five of us James boys, and it can get kind of full-on.”
Her eyes flicker with something. Recognition, perhaps? Not unusual. My family is pretty well-known, even here in Chicago.
Ellie is up from the floor now, swiping dog hair from her pant legs. She looks stupidly happy, her hair wild and free, a hugegrin on her face, blue eyes sparkling as she joins us. She slips her arm into mine. “Ignore them, Maddox,” she tells me. “They’re all assholes.”
“Language,” all three parents say at once.
Melody rolls her eyes in absolute tweenager style. “We’ve all heard the word asshole before, Mom,” she sighs. “We’re notkids.”
Keres makes a visible effort not to laugh at the reprimand. She looks at Ace and Romeo and then gestures to me with her chin. “So, what do you think? Is he good enough?”
Romeo squeezes my bicep and studies my face. “Strong. Good muscle tone. All his own teeth. Looks passable to me.”
Ace, who has so far been quiet, shakes his head. “It’s not what’s on the outside that matters, especially when it comes to our Ellie. It’s what’s on the inside, and the way he treats her. If he takes proper care of her.”
Somehow, he sounds threatening, and I square up subconsciously. I don’t like conflict and have learned how to manage my own impulses over the years, but I also feel just as protective of her as he does. “I can assure you I have no intention of hurting Ellie. Or letting anybody else hurt her.”
