Page 8 of Shattered

Mackenzie opened the door to the laundry room and stepped inside. He was exhausted. After laying out the flags for the floor plan to the apartments, he and Ulysses drove the stakes then tied off the area with orange construction line. By the time they were finished, they had the property mapped out and ready for the initial digs to lay the lines.

He kicked out of his boots then walked into the kitchen. Liam and Riley were in the living room watching one of their crazy shows, while Charisma stood at the stove making dinner for them. He frowned. Since they’d returned home, she’d taken it upon herself to watch the kids after school and make sure he ate. Usually, Royce would join them for dinner before Charisma packed up all the kids and took them home.

“You really should stop doing this,” he said. “I can cook for me and the pups.”

“You can, but Mikey loves Liam and Riley, and they really like the twins. It’s a full-circle thing.” She kissed his cheek. “Ooff, you smell.”

He grinned. “That’s what hard work gets you.”

“Well, go get a shower. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.” Charisma shooed him out of the kitchen.

When Mackenzie returned fresh from his shower, Royce was there. He sat at the table with the pups while waiting on Mackenzie. The conversation they had in Everett didn’t even scratch the surface of their issues, and he blamed himself for that as well. Royce had too many bad memories running through his brain. Mackenzie had caused the majority of them so, in turn, he had to fix them.

“Smells good,” he said, taking a seat.

“Thank you.” Charisma beamed. “It’s a family recipe.” She dug a spoonful of the casserole out of the dish and plopped it onto the plate in her hand. The creamy goodness smelled heavenly. “My mom called it poor man’s pot pie.”

There was nothing poor about the dish. The scent of chicken and vegetables had Mackenzie’s stomach rumbling in anticipation. Once everyone had their dinner in front of them, they dug in. He contemplated telling Charisma and Royce about the new agents imbedded within Window Rock, but he had a feeling his son already knew about them.

“So, Kalkin said you’re working with the new agents,” Royce said, as though reading his mind. “What do you think so far?”

Mackenzie shrugged. “He’s a hard worker. The guy’s name is Ulysses.”

“Why are new agents here?” Charisma placed her fork on her dish.

“Aislinn,” Royce said.

Charisma frowned. “No.”

“Yes. We had a feeling this day would come,” Royce replied.

“That poor girl,” Charisma said. “She’s only known a moment’s peace here. What’s the plan?”

Mackenzie chuckled. “Nothing yet. We’re in a holding pattern until someone makes a move. When they do, the St. Johns and the Makino families will have wished to God they hadn’t stepped foot in Window Rock.”

After dinner and once everyone had gone home, Mackenzie grabbed a beer out of the fridge and went outside. He sat in his rocker and stared out over the neighborhood. The days were shorter now. The friendly noise of the neighbors having barbecue cookouts were gone, replaced by crickets and the hum of the streetlights. Since he’d been busy with Ulysses, he hadn’t been able to head into town to see about putting the house up for sale.

Hell, he hadn’t even discussed it with the kids. They were old enough now. Fourteen and twelve, they should be able to make their feelings known and have some input into where they would go or if they would stay. Wasn’t like they hadn’t already completed one mission.

Mackenzie placed the bottle to his lips and took a drink. His kids were made of stern stuff. A part of him was proud of how they’d all turned out, even though he’d been a shit father to all of them, and he second guessed every decision he made.

However, those decisions had put him where he was, alone.

Again.

It didn’t say much about him, did it? He always took the paths that led to heartache for everyone, including innocent fucking children. His children. He glanced down the quiet street and shook his head. Why the fuck did he have to be this way? Why did he have to always do the wrong thing, hoping it was the right? Why didn’t he make the right decisions without waffling?

He muttered a curse under his breath and stood. Sitting outside contemplating his shit life for the umpteenth time wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it. He had to want to change it, and so far, his wants and what he actually did were two different things.

“Hey, dad?” Riley stood at the door.

“Yeah, pup?”

“Can I Facetime with Gretchen and Suzy from school?” she asked. “They wanted to show me all the pictures from this year’s Halloween party in Everett.”

“Sure,” he answered. “I’m glad you all stayed friends.”

Riley grinned. “So am I.” A pensive look came over her cherub face. “I never told them our real names.”

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