Hellion (Southern Rebels MC)

“It wasn’t stupid,” she spit out, arms crossed as she looked anywhere but at me. “You know how many people he’s hurt? Hundreds, thousands.” Her gaze met mine for a second. “I just wanted to hurt him and the only way I knew how was –”

“To take his money,” I finished, exhaling. “You know Johnny’s right?” She gave me a tiny nod. “Then let him do what he does. Trust that he won’t let anything happen to you. That I won’t, that Leroy won’t, hell, throw in the entire Hayes family for that matter. We will keep you safe.”

She looked at me then, her gaze solemn. “And who’s going to keep you safe?”

“You, and Johnny, and Leroy, and the Hayes boys. The same people who will fight to protect you.” I rested my hands on her hips, my thumbs stroking the curve of her waist. “You have to understand, Cadence, we’re not one, we’re all. You’re not alone here.”

“That’s terrifying and comforting all at once,” she admitted, leaning into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, rocking us gently. “What if we all die?”

I snorted. “Unlikely. I swear the Rebels all have nine lives.”

***

“Mom,” I called out, the door creaking as I pushed it open. “We’re here.” Cadence practically hugged me she stood so close and I could feel her discomfort because it matched mine.

“Why are dead people’s houses so creepy?” She whispered.

“You don’t have to whisper,” I whispered back. “And probably because the house is empty. No one is coming home.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” she grumbled. “Why did your mom want us to meet her here?”

“She had something to show me,” I answered, intentionally forcing my voice to a normal decibel. “Figured it would just be easier to come here.”

“Figure different next time,” Cadence hissed as my mom came around the corner.

“Hey, you two.” Mom beamed as we walked forward and I couldn’t help but think, she doesn’t seem upset about Uncle Cal’s death. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“You just saw us at the funeral,” I pointed out and she made a face. I leaned down to hug her and murmured in her ear, “We need to talk.”

She patted my shoulder. “Not now, baby, not now.” She took Cadence’s hands and squeezed them. “I’m glad you came with him.”

Cadence mustered a smile. “He drove.” She quickly pulled her hands back and rubbed her arms, looking around the room, not curiously, but like she was waiting for something to jump out at her.

“What did you want to show me?” I asked, not wanting to get caught up in chit chat since Cadence was clearly uncomfortable.

My question managed to wipe the happy expression from my mom’s face, but it wasn’t me she looked at when she answered. “You should probably see this, dear.”

Cadence glanced at me, but I could only shrug. I had no idea what my mom had found at Uncle Cal’s house or why it would have meaning to Cadence.

“I put it in here,” Mom said as she walked to the kitchen. “I didn’t want it to get mixed up with the other stuff I’m donating.” She gestured to a cardboard box on the table and for the first time, I could see her unease. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Cadence eyed her, then slowly walked forward. I followed her, feeling like I was approaching a ticking time bomb. “What is it, Mom?” I asked sharply.

She shook her head, her shoulders lifting helplessly.

Cadence stretched her fingers to the box, and they trembled slightly as if she already knew whatever it contained would change everything.

I stood over her shoulder and could clearly see when she lifted the flap there was only a small leather purse in the box, but it was her reaction that gutted me.

“Mom,” she cried, her hand going to her mouth as she stumbled back into me. I caught her, my skin starting to crawl as the pieces clicked into place. I glanced at my mom, desperately hoping this wasn’t what I thought it was.

Her eyes glistened as she as she said the one thing I wished wasn’t true. “It’s Moira’s purse.”

Chapter Ten

Cadence

He stared at me without blinking and I was tempted to snap my fingers in his face to get a reaction, but figured it wouldn’t be polite since he’d given up his bed for me.

“Did you run away from home?” He asked, one finger hooked in his mouth as he continued to stare.

My gut reaction was to shout, “No,” until I realized, yes, I had basically run away from home.

The door opened and a figure loomed, his shadow blocking the light. “Scat, kid.”

Colt hopped up, but paused to stare at the big man. “You’re supposed to be teaching me to ride a bike,” he accused, one lip sticking out.

The man cupped Colt’s head and shoved him out the door. “Right after I finish teaching your dad,” he answered, shutting the door in Colt’s face.