Page 84 of Kandie Shoppe

I throw a wave her way, not bothering to slow my stride as I make my way toward the laughter and wreath of smiles that should be mine only.

Bending to listen intently to something Mateo says, she turns back to go back and forth between her little cousin and the Brit.

Kandie’s smile is genuine as she throws her head back, laughing at whatever the bastard is saying. Rage eats at me as I approach the duo, watching as Sommerland lays his perfect, posh praise on her.

“You’re going to make a great mother one day,” he muses, mouth quirking in a way that lets me know he’d like nothing better than be the one putting that baby inside of her.

Holding my peace has never been harder than in that moment. I stand silent as my shadow falls on the trio.

“Who says I even want kids?” Kandie asks, but even from this vantage point I can tell she’s delighted, damn right besotted with his words. She’s looking at this motherfucker like he’s hung the moon.

I see Summer coming into the pavilion right at that moment. Stepping between them, I pluck Kandie’s little smiling ass up from the other side of the gate. “U,” she gasps.

“Shut up,” I growl, gripping her under her arm holding our food in my other hand after I set her on her feet.

“Hey.” Marcus steps forward. I flip the clasp on my holster.

“She worth you dying over, Sommerland? Because she’s worth me laying your ass down.” A chill falls between us.

“It’s okay,” I hear Summer’s soothing voice when Mateo whimpers, either not understanding his bestie is leaving or why the grown-ups all look mad.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Kandie stomps on my foot, charging away into the crowd.

Resisting the urge to hop on one foot, I grit my teeth, following her, ignoring the dry chuckle of Marcus behind me.

Following her through the crowd, I watch her duck into the back of the kiosk she had her baked goods and Wildcat Honey stored.

“Here’s your food, with your ungrateful ass.” Plunking the food down I turn to leave not trusting myself to say shit to her right now.

“What the fuck is your problem?” comes from behind me.

Sneering at the exasperation in her voice, I whirl around so fast she stumbles a little before she catches herself. Simultaneously, we both take a step back. For different reasons, though. I don’t want to intimidate with my size but from where Istand looking down at her startled expression; I have — for all of the two seconds it takes her to remember who she is.

“The fuck is your problem? Dragging me away from Mateo. You probably scared the baby for life. You’re going to pay for his therapy. Big goofy ass,” she hisses.

“My problem? You’re the one over there skinning and grinning in that British motherfucker’s face, listening to his bullshit,” I bite out, watching as she goes over to the bag of food.

She gives a little shrug after digging into the bag. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes sweep me from head to toe. “What? You want me to have your babies, U?”

“Why the fuck would I want a kid with you when you can’t even stay sober?” Later, I would question what would make me say that. In that moment, I let rage and the pain of knowing I could never give her the family she deserved. Not me a killer. I had more blood on my hands than most men alive, not to mention the poison that seems to crop up in the blood of the Shelbys every other generation. Mathias’ father was probably a serial killer by anyone’s definition, and he’s not the only one. Our lineage is riddled with the worst type of bastards. We are not above patricide or any other type of murder. We revel in it. I would never give that legacy to anyone, especially Kandie.

I needn’t worry about it, though not with the look of pained hatred she gives me.

“Stay. The. Fuck. Away from me, Ulysses Shelby, with your mean ass.” Her face crumbles even as she says it. Hand covering her heart as if I stabbed her dead center, she backs away from me, slowly shaking her head, like she can’t believe the words she heard coming from my mouth.

Pulling the flap back, she steps out into the main area where she has cakes and the liquor. Standing for a long moment, I swipe my hand through my hair. I should be relieved it’s over. And it is over. There’s no coming back from those words.

Stifling the urge to go to her, I pivot. A bloodcurdling scream has me barreling through the flap so hard I rip it from its post.

“Kan—”

A keening muffled scream is all I hear as I watch her face masked in terror. Turning to where she’s pointing, I step in front of her to block her view.

A striped bobcat is flayed and gutted on the counter among the covered dishes of cupcakes, pies, and cakes. The liquor is tipped over to mingle with the blood of the dead animal. From the front, no one would be the wiser because Kandie hadn’t opened her stand and lifted the front of the station. Passersby would have been spared the view. The assailant would have had as much time as he needed to come back here to do whatever he wished.

“Ohmygod.” Kandie’s voice shakes with terror. Turning, I bring her stiff form into my arms. Holding herself rigid, she at least lets me turn her away from the scene.

Digging my phone out of my pocket, I call my office. “We need an animal disposal crew out at the festival. The Kandie Shoppe kiosk and keep it quiet. There are a lot of families out here.” Tugging Kandie under my arm, I try to protect her from any prying eyes, especially those of the sick fuck who did this. I know the MO. They are lying back, waiting, doing their best to try to unnerve her.

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