Shelter (Heroes of Big Sky 2)

“It’s not really something I think about often,” I reply. “I haven’t been in contact with Kensie since I was about twelve. Mom punched her in the face and told her to stay the hell away from me.”

“Holy crap,” Mike whispers with a proud smile. “Go Aunt Jilly.”

“She died,” Sarah announces, surprising me. “Kensie did. I did some searching.”

I sit back and stare at my sister, not sure how I feel about the news.

“When?” I ask.

“About six years ago,” she replies. “I didn’t dig too deep, but there was an article about an investigation. Sounds like she was murdered. I’m sorry, Seth.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“Your biological mother was murdered,” she says with all of the drama of a seventeen-year-old girl. “Of course, you’re upset.”

I smile softly. “I don’t know what I am. Not surprised, really. She lived a hard life, and I’m just thankful that I didn’t end up tied to her. I’m here with you, where I belong. Jillian saved me, you guys. She showed me what being a good mother is all about, and she loves me as if she did give birth to me herself. In her mind, she doesn’t see me any differently than she sees you, and that’s not always the case.”

I think of Remi, and the opposite experience she had, and my heart aches for her.

“So, that’s why it was never brought up. Because we’re a family, and we just all moved forward.”

“Did that Kensie lady do bad things to you?” Troy asks. He’s always been the most perceptive of the group.

“Sometimes,” I reply, and he launches himself into my arms, holding me tightly. He tries so hard, every day, to act so grown up, but then there are moments, like right now, when he’s still very much a kid. “I’m okay, bud.”

“I want to hurt her back,” Troy says against my shoulder. “She shouldn’t have gotten away with it.”

“She didn’t,” Layla says, always the philosopher. “She was murdered. Mama always says, ‘What goes around comes around.’”

“Karma,” Mike agrees. “She got hers in the end.”

“I think this party has taken a far more serious turn than anticipated,” I say as Troy sits next to me, keeping his head on my shoulder. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, but I want to ask Dad about it,” Sarah says. “I know, you’re going to call me stubborn. But I have questions.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong to ask questions. He’ll probably be uncomfortable at first, but he’ll be honest.”

“I’ll lead with a question about my period or sex, and then he won’t be nearly as uncomfortable.” Sarah’s smile is just a little evil, and it makes us all laugh. “I think it’ll make Mom cry if I ask her.”

“Mom always cries,” Troy says with a smirk. “She’s such a girl.”

“She cries because her youngest child is so ugly,” Miles says to his younger brother. And just like that, everything is right in the world again. The boys bicker, the girls giggle, and I know that, in a little while, I’ll be up with my laptop, doing some digging.

We eat pizza, play some video games, and then Sarah dims the lights as they put the original Friday the 13th on the TV.

Kim keeps a pillow in her grasp so she can cover her face when it gets too intense.

Troy does the same with a blanket.

They all make me smile.

While they’re engrossed in the movie, I sit at the dining room table and open my computer, running a search for Kensie King.

It doesn’t take long for the information to come up. She’d been arrested a few times, and with each mug shot, she progressively looked worse and worse. Drugs were the charges the majority of the time, but there were two charges for solicitation.

My mother was a whore.

I shake my head and open the article about her death.

Albuquerque, N.M. – A woman identified as Kensie King was found in a vehicle in the Third Street parking structure by a building employee Monday morning. Authorities listed the cause of death as a gunshot wound to the head. Based on evidence at the scene, suicide has been ruled out, and the case is under investigation.

I frown and open another article dated four months later.

Albuquerque, N.M. – The investigation continues regarding the murder of a woman found dead in a vehicle in the Third Street parking structure this past spring. Authorities confirm they have arrested and charged Cole M. Linton with the murder of Kensie King. His trial begins next month.

I end up spiraling down a rabbit hole, searching through articles about Cole—he was such an asshole—and discover that he was found guilty one year to the day after he killed Kensie. He’s currently serving a life sentence in New Mexico.

“Do we have popcorn?”

I blink and look up to see Kim’s pretty blue eyes staring down at me.