Silver was a twin to my brother, Chevy’s, wife.
Though, they looked nothing alike.
Silver and Aella were at nearly every club party now, and Silver made it a point to get on Webber’s last nerve just because she liked it.
And the worst part? She was doing it because she genuinely wanted to make Webber smile. She liked to spread joy and cheer everywhere she went.
Meanwhile, Webber was the antithesis of Silver, spreading doom and gloom to everyone that walked into his radius.
And he did have a radius.
He didn’t want you within five feet of him if he could help it, and he certainly didn’t want anyone smiling and cheering him on.
Silver was also impossible to be mean to.
Even I had trouble around her because I physically couldn’t get mad at her.
It would be like kicking a cute little puppy.
Webber’s snarl was silent as he grumbled, “We are not, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, involving Silver. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
Webber’s kid gave up the ghost on crying, leaving mine the winner.
I looked down at Holt.
“Are babies supposed to cry like this?” I asked. “I talked to Shad, who talked to Baker, and apparently this kid never stops. Like, never, ever never. Does yours?”
“Yeah,” he said. “This was the first time he really started crying, and I think it’s because I woke him up.”
We both looked down at the crying baby.
“Maybe it’s gassy?” he suggested.
“How do you fix gassy?” I asked.
Webber pondered that for a minute, then turned the baby in his arms around to lay his head on his forearm, then allowed his legs and arms to dangle on either side of his arm.
“You can Google…” we trailed off as an older woman came out of the apartment across the way and started walking right toward us.
She was at the end of the hallway, and Reign’s apartment was between hers and mine.
I’d never spoken to her once, and she’d always struck me as kind of a bitch.
She was a chiropractor from what I’d learned from Keely—who had talked to her, though only in passing—and a really skilled one at that.
She had four grown kids, and a husband that was some big oil field man that was gone more than he was home.
For not having said two words to her, she had no problem coming up to the two of us in our Truth Tellers cuts with matching scowls on our face.
“I couldn’t help but hear the crying,” she said, looking pointedly at the kid in my arm that just wouldn’t stop.
I held the kid out like I’d been holding him earlier, and he instantly stopped crying.
The woman’s eyes laser focused on the kid in my arms and said, “He needs an alignment.”
“What makes you think that?”
