Page 59 of Hell In A Handbasket
Frustrated, he casts his eyes to Christabelle and holds her stare. The cicadas’ scream wafts in the air. The music from town—from a particular wedding—swells like a heartbeat in the sky. Finally, when no one offers him an alternative, Felix huffs out an exasperated “fine,” before dropping back into his chair and slinging his arm over Debbie’s shoulders. “I pick truth.”
“Anyone have a question?” Jen walks a slow lap of the space within the circle of chairs, meeting Kane’s eyes. Jay’s. Mine, even. But when no one volunteers, she whirls back and hits him with a look. “Word on the street was, prior to Christabelle, you were a total man slut of epic proportions. Now you’re hitched, and she’s crowning.”
Christabelle scowls. “I’mnotcrowning.
“Regrets?” She challenges Felix with a smirk. “Wishing for a redo? Terrified of becoming a dad?”
“That’s a lot of questions.” He curls long strands of Christabelle’s hair between his fingers. “I have no regrets. Don’t need a redo. I don’t yearn for my old slut life. But yeah. I’m completely fucking terrified of becoming a dad. My father was worse than negligent. He was worse than abusive. He was cruel, and of five sons, not one of us mourns his death.” He shrugs and rests his face in Christabelle’s hair. “Kinda ironic that I’d tell you motherfuckers my biggest fear, but here we are. I’m more scared of screwing this up than I’ve been of anything else, ever, in my entire life.”
Jen presses a hand to her heart. “Aww! That was sweet. I’m swooning.”
“You don’t get to swoon for another man.” Corey snatches her hand and yanks her into his lap. “Woman, you swoon forme. Only me.”
“Who’s next?” Jess bounds up, covers her eyes, and spins, spins, spins. Dust wafts from the movement of her feet, and because of her lifted shoulder, her shirt rides up, exposing two inches of her belly and a set of endearing stretch marks I’m not sure anyone else notices.
Those are her battle scars from bringing twins into the world. Her proof of how utterly powerful she is, to create life. Grow it. Birth it.
She stops on a dime, long blonde hair whipping around to slap her shoulder. Then she drops her hand and takes a moment to process her selection. But then her lips curl into a mocking smirk. “Truth or dare, Doctor Emeri?”
Aubree rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to choose dare, because I’m comfortable exactly where I am. But if I choose truth, your question will be entirely predictable.”
“Truth it is.” Soph shoves up in her chair and lifts a challenging brow. “Explain your mind-reading thing.”
Spence shakes his head. “Wow. Shocked.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” Aubree plays with Tim’s hand, tracing his fingers with her own. “I’m intuitive is all. I pay attention to the details and draw conclusions based on whatever I see in front of me.”
“Bullshit.” Jay tosses his bottle cap across the campfire… minus the fire. “It’s more than that. You touched my shoulder before to read my mind.”
“I wasn’t reading your mind! I was bracing so I wouldn’t fall over.”
“What intuitive thing did you glean from me?” Spence wonders. His chair groans under his weight, the flimsy frame struggling to hold such a large man. “I know you know, Doc. I know you know I know.”
“That was a lot ofknows.” Jess swings her head from Spence to Aubree. “What do you know she knows you know? What’s going on?”
“My mother was…intuitiveas well.” His lips curl into a smirk. “Not mind reading. But observant. Sensitive. Smart.”
“And then she died.” Aubree’s brows pinch together in sympathy. “From breast cancer.”
“Mm.” He lowers his gaze. “That’s right.”
“Then you married a woman who was sick, too. With the exact same disease.”
My heart beats a frenzied staccato against my diaphragm as he brings his eyes up again and clings to her. “Yes. I did.”
“That was exceptionally brave of you.” Solemn, she looks at Troy and Corey. “He teases you, but he loves deeply.”
“We know.” Corey reclines in his seat, draping Jen over his lap so she becomes the weighted blanket Archer was for me earlier. “They say stress kills, and laughter is medicine. Well, Abby Cadabby never stresses now that he’s taking care of her, and she’s so fucking happy, heisher medicine. He might piss us offmost days, but he’s keeping my baby sister young and healthy. I’d burn the world for him if it meant she never had to lose him.”
“Oh my gawddddd,” Jess grunts. “Why’s everyone getting deep and weepy? Someone needs to pick dare already.” Frustrated, she covers her eyes, points, and spins.
But of course, she stops on the one person who doesn’t want to be picked.
The one who wants to be left the hell alone.
She stops on me.
Amused, she looks me up and down. “Truth or dare, Chief Mayet. And just so you know, if you choose truth, I’m gonna ask if you’ve ever had a sex dream about Jen’s dad.”
