Page 95 of Iron Hearts

Rarity…

Holy shit…I thought to myself,if my grandmother saw this place, she would shit a brick sideways!

I had a moment of pause in my inner thoughts, and then:God, I almost wish that she could – it might shut her up for a damn minute.

I wasn’t feeling very charitable toward my grandmother today for trying to stir the pot where Striker was concerned.Especiallyconsidering he’d saved us all a gang of money fixing the boys’ bathroom for free.

He didn’t have to do that. Nor did he have to help with the boys and their out-of-pocket behavior that night, nor did he have to bargain with them and treat our whole damn family to the day at the Gator Farm like he had, only for her to turn around and throw a fit because she didn’t likeour ages?

It’d made me mad. It’d been beyond rude, and I was foreverteam Strikerover team Grandma after today – for real.

Striker stood behind me, guiding me through the giant house with its stone floors and beautifully neutral-colored walls with their smooth, spotless paint, by my shoulders. Making baby steps behind me, standing close at my back, and bumping me lightly with every step, making me giggle.

I don’t think he knew how much I loved when he just naturally sort of fell into guiding me around like this. Like I was his precious little girl. It was something so small but also made me feel so special at the same time.

We found Renegade in the kitchen on the phone, the brick of electronic tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he poured some type of marinade over some meat in a glass baking dish.

“Oh, hey, put a lid on that and into the fridge for me, would yah?” he said in our direction and turned to rinse the bowl and whisk he’d been using in the sink.

“Yeah, yeah! I got you,” he said. “Look, I’m gonna get it handled and I’m gonna do it my way, and the minute that I fuck up and it goes pear-shaped is the minute you can tell me ‘I told you so’ and take a shark bite outta my ass – now I’d love to do our usual little dance here – but I got a guest that just showed up and I’m no longer free to speak on it. So, we need to table this for now if you don’t mind.”

I watched as Striker put the lid on the glass dish that came with it and he slid it into the refrigerator which was chock full of veggies and things.

“Great,” Renegade said, his broad back turned in our direction. He was shirtless in just a pair of black swim trunks with white piping at the pockets or whatever other accents.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” he said with a laugh. “Bye now.” He pressed the button on the phone to end the call and tossed the device on the counter in its heavy case with a gusty sigh.

“Fucking asshole,” he muttered, before he turned around, spotted me, and his whole expression brightened up.

“Hey! Rarity, come give us a hug,” he said and I laughed a little uncomfortably but obliged him. “You guys have a good day with the family?” he asked.

“Oh, it waswonderful,” I said. “Skull and Bones were really great with the boys.”

“Never would figure it with those psychopaths, but they sure are good with the kids,” he said. “Striker, what’s up, man?” he came around the kitchen island and clasped hands with Striker and they pulled each other into a bruising hug.

“You bring your suit?” Renegade asked me.

“Oh, hah, nah – I didn’t expect to wind up at a pool party today, so…” I trailed off.

“Hey, no worries!” he went to the sliding back door leading out onto the patio and out to the pool and opened it up to yell, “Yo, Dusty! ‘Mere a minute!”

The girl from the clubhouse that I’d met looked up from whoever she was talking to and she jumped up and padded this way.

“What’s up, Dad?” she asked, tossing her long black braid over her shoulder.

“Rarity needs a suit, you got something?”

Dusty rolled her eyes and said, “I’ve spent entirely too much of your money on bathing suits, so yeah – I’m sure I’ve got something.” She smiled at me warmly and said, “Come on.”

Striker nudged me in her direction and I followed her through the house to a set of stairs and up to the second floor.

“You a one-piece or a two-piece girly?” she asked.

“Two,” I answered and she said, “Ah, thank God. I don’t think I’ve owned a one-piece suit since I was like twelve.”

I laughed and said, “Girl, same.”

“So, you and Striker, huh?” she asked, letting herself into a room. I followed and tried not to let my jaw drop at the gothic elegance inside.

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