Page 17 of Sweet Redemption

“Language,” Gracie snaps again, like her kids haven’t heard worse. Hell, I’m pretty sure they’ve said worse.

“Asshole . . .” Bodhi repeats, smiling like he knows it’s a bad word, and I can’t hold back my laughter.

“Fucking favorite is more like it,” Everly grins, looking at Bodhi, never one to shy away from shocking the table and manages to shift in time to miss the elbow Gracie throws her way. My sisters are feral. Guess some things never change.

“I never said favorite,” Mom argues as she holds Bodhi close and kisses the top of his head.

“You didn’t have to,” all five of us answer together.

Damn, I’ve missed this.

Dad chuckles into his beer. “It’s nice knowing we’ll have all of you together for more than a few days.” His gaze drops to my brothers and me. “Now, for the love of God . . .”

Uh-oh.

“Behave yourselves at the football game this weekend.”

“Of course we will, Daddy,” Everly says sweetly, batting her lashes like he was talking to her and Gracie instead of Nix, Leo, and me.

Maybe he should have been, considering this is the same woman who climbed onto the roof to sneak out of the house one New Year’s Eve and broke her arm. She was fifteen.

When Dad rolls his eyes to the ceiling, I’m pretty sure that’s what he’s thinking too.

“What?” Her smile is just barely on the right side of evil. “A girl can change.”

“Bullshit,” Leo coughs, and Evie tries to kick him under the table but hits me instead.

“Hey . . .” I pull back.

“Nah.” Nix looks at Leo and me. “You deserved that.”

“Fair,” Leo laughs, even though I’m the one with the bruised shin.

“And you—” Everly turns her attention back to me. “It took you long enough to come home.” She reaches over and takes Bodhi from Mom, blowing a raspberry on his neck and making him laugh. “This little guy deserves to be as messed up as our kids.”

“Mom—” Kerrigan rolls her eyes at my sister in that way only a teenager can.

I pity the first guy who shows up to take her out on a date.

Between Cross and all her uncles, the poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.

Some of us never do.

That thought brings me back to earlier tonight . . . to The Busy Bee.

To Serena.

The fear in her gorgeous turquoise eyes.

I’ve seen it before, but that was the first time she ever looked at me like I was the cause.

I shouldn’t have let her leave.

I should have driven her home.

Made sure she was okay.

I should have⁠—