I dropped my head to his hand I was still holding.
And I remembered him holding me so close, laughing as he swayed me on the dance floor the day we got married.
It took me some time, but I lifted my head and I didn’t look at him.
I didn’t want to remember him that way.
I just kissed his hand and straightened away.
My eyes caught on his family.
His dad was holding his wife and daughter in his arms, both crying in his chest.
His father was looking at me.
“Thank you,” he mouthed.
I nodded.
Turned.
Walked out of the room on legs that felt strange.
Down the hall.
Buck got to me first, wrapping both his arms around my head and shoving it against his chest.
Tatie wrapped herself around me next.
Gear, after that.
Tia pushed in.
Mrs. Jimenez rubbed my back.
I let the love of my family instill some strength back into me.
Then I put some pressure on my head and Buck loosened his hold.
I tipped it back.
“Can we go home?” I asked.
He stared into my eyes.
And answered.
“Absolutely.”
34
Voodoo
“Jesus, you need to chill out, darlin’.”
“Yeah, Toots, it’s only Granddad. You need to chill out.”
“I think Clara’s bein’ kinda cute.”
This was coming from Buck (the first), Tatie (the second) and Gear (the last).
We were standing by a round picnic table that was bolted to the floor in a big room that was a sea of round tables that people were standing by or sitting at.
All of this in a prison.
I was in high-heeled booties, dark-wash, bootleg jeans, a long-sleeved white tee and a spruce blue, open front, high-low, waterfall cardie.
This outfit had taken three days, five phone calls to Minnie, two to Lorie, and one to get validation from Pinky before I decided on it.
It had a minimal edge (the booties), so it did not scream BIKER BABE!
I should have worn my high-heeled boots and a jeans miniskirt (an item of apparel I did not own).
Then again, we had a dress code we had to adhere to, and miniskirts were prohibited.
A door at the far end opened and a bunch of men in orange jumpsuits started strolling in.
Too late now.
“Oh dear,” I whispered.
“Babe,” the arm Buck had around my neck gave me a squeeze, “he’s gonna love you.”
“Right,” I muttered.
“He’s totally gonna love you,” Tatie added.
“Right,” I repeated.
“Clary, fuck, you love us, we love you, he’s not gonna have to get with the program,” Gear said, sounding like he was laughing. “He’s just gonna be with the program.”
I was about to look at Gear.
But then a tall, handsome man with a good deal of silver in his still-dark hair came sauntering through the door. A man I’d seen younger in pictures. A man who exuded magnetism and charisma, even in an orange jumpsuit with a white T-shirt under it.
And I just barely curbed my desire to bolt.
He caught sight of us, and a big smile lit his face, widening the silver-and-dark goatee around his lips.
“Granddad!” Tatie called.
He put his arms out before he got to us, so when he made it to us, they were in position for Tatie to fall into them.
And she did.
We were allowed physical contact.
Hugs. Cheek kisses. Handshakes.
At the beginning and end of the visit.
Tatie got her hug and cheek kiss.
Gear got his hug with several stout pounds on the back.
Buck got his hug, no pounding on the back, it was tight, and it lasted longer.
Oh God, yes,
Locke Hardy loved his son.
A lot.
Buck broke from his dad and turned to me.
“Here she is. Clara,” he introduced.
“Honey,” Locke Hardy said softly in his gravelly voice that reminded me of Buck’s.
My eyes instantly started stinging, but gamely, I shoved out my hand.
He was shifting my way, but he stopped when I did that and stared at it.
“She’s nervous, Granddad,” Tatie announced.
“And she’s being a total dork,” Gear added.
Locke looked to his namesake.
“Son,” he said with soft reproach.
“Well, she is,” Gear replied.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hardy,” I declared.
He looked at me with his warm, brown eyes.
“All right, darlin’, I’ll give you that one, but then we’re not doin’ that anymore. Yeah?”
“Sorry?”
He moved right past my hand and hugged me.
Okay.
Yes.
I was totally going to cry.
“Thanks for lookin’ after my granddaughter,” he whispered in my ear.
Oh God!
Totally going to cry!
“And makin’ m’boy happy.”
“My, uh…it’s my pleasure.”
“And I’m Locke, or you can call me Dad. Though you can wait on that ’til we get to know each other better. Your call.”
He wasn’t helping!
“Okay,” I said shakily.
He lifted his head but didn’t take his arms from around me and shared, “You can hug me back. I don’t bite.”
“Oh no!” I cried. “It wasn’t that. I just—”
“Buck talks to his daddy,” he said softly. “I know you don’t got a lot of practice with this, Clara. We’ll get used to it, though.”
I nodded.
Then I slid my arms around him.
He pressed his jaw against the side of my head, gave me a squeeze and let me go.