Page 204 of Tag

“Ew,” I wrinkled my nose. “For the record, I’m current on my BC. I’ve never missed a shot.”

“Good,” Mom said, nodding firmly. “Because me and Tiff plan to enjoy a few more summers outside before we get our first grandbaby.”

“Summers… outside?”

“Yes,” she said, completely serious, brows lifted like she’d just dropped profound wisdom. “Isn’t that what you kids say? We’ll be outside?”

She looked so proud, so sure of herself. I didn’t want to laugh in her face. Then Sugarmama snickered, and that was it. I lost it. We both broke into laughter, leaning into eachother, gasping for air. Mom just stood there, hands on her hips, demanding to know what was so funny. When we finally calmed down, Sugarmama patted my shoulder and went back to her crossword, still giggling.

“You can be outside, Mom,” I managed, wiping tears from my eyes, “Not like that. Papà would have a stroke.”

Mom’s lips pinched together, exasperated. “Enough of all this,” she declared, smoothing her apron. “I heard The Hunt is kicking off today.”

All my laughter fled. “You keep up with that, too?”

Papà strolled in and beelined for the lemon tarts, quickly popping one into his mouth. “Of course we do,” he jumped right into the conversation. “Ourprincipessais right in the middle of it.”

“Those are for brunch!” Mom scolded.

He grinned, licking powdered sugar off his thumb before planting a loud kiss on her lips. I swear to God, Mom actually blushed.

I watched him debating for a split second if I should just spill everything right then and there, but then I remembered exactly why that was a terrible idea. The girls couldn’t have told their parents about being Marked, or mine would know too.

“It just started,” I said, shrugging, trying to sound casual. “Nothing major yet.”

Papà chewed thoughtfully. “You know I was a Hunt champ?” he announced.

“You?”

He straightened even more, chest out like a proud rooster. “Two years in a row.”

I crossed my arms. “Marked or Huntsman?”

Papà gave me a look, eyes twinkling. “Does your father look like he’d ever be Marked?”

I was seriously starting to think it was because of their status and now ours, that none of them ever were. We all ended up Marked instead as some sins of the fathers’ ass karma.

“You were one of those masked psychos?”

Mom frowned. “Psychos?”

Papà laughed, licking another crumb off his thumb. “We didn’t do anything extreme enough to be called that. It was harmless fun. I even got your mom to date me that way.”

I nearly choked. “Are you serious?”

He winked, completely unbothered. “Best hunt I ever won. Those were the days.”

Good for him.

I wasn’t exactly feeling all warm and fuzzy about my own Huntsmen, especially one in particular. Ryder definitely wouldn’t appreciate me comparing notes to the one who kept texting me like we had some kind of connection. Wait—shit. The note from my locker. Where had I put it? I hadn’t told him about that yet. With everything that happened, I’d forgotten all about it until now.

Sugarmama clicked her tongue. “Your Nonno and I played back in our day too. Rival schools. Much different time. That’s a story for another day.”

Did that mean they knew each other before my parents did? What the actual hell? I thought I was fully in the know about my family history. Apparently not. A chime echoed through the house, alerting us that the front door was opening. Mom’s gaze slid to me. “That would be your breakfast.”

Sugarmama snickered. “In more ways than one.”

Papà grimaced, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t need that visual in my head, Anima.”

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