I look over the area and see Teddy already in the pool with a boy I don’t know and make the connection. She’s got a kid—that explains the hair. Don’t know a ton of moms, but the good ones usually go without when a kid is around to make sure they get what they need first. And if she’s just moved in, I doubt a hair appointment was at the top of the list with unpacking from wherever she was before this.
Casper turns to me, and I look at him. I might be a clown for the Hounds, but not even someone like me turns their back on the club’s sniper. He takes it as a personal offense, and being on his bitch list is worse than Bulldog’s. And trust me, I’ve been on both, so I know.
“So, let’s see the new hardware.”
Should have known that of all the Hounds, Casper would notice a new weapon on me.
I smile easily as I pull out the trench blade that the North Dakota president’s granddad, Bill, gave to me.Hisgranddad had it in WWI, and he noticed that I’d admired the crap out of it from the first night I saw it when I was invited over for dinner. Knuckle knives might be easy to buy, but it’s rare to see one from a world war kept in such mint condition. Bill said it saved his granddad’s life a few times, and if it weren’t for that knife, he and the rest of the family wouldn’t be heretoday. He polished that thing weekly as his way of paying homage.
On the day I left, he gave it to me. Said it was time for it to save another person’s family and not just sit on a shelf collecting dust. Guy was a bit odd, but I could appreciate what he meant. Plus, I got a wicked knife out of it.
“Like it? It’s an authentic WWI blade. Guy who gave it to me said it became his grandad’s most precious weapon, even after the war. Had it with him almost daily, even slept with it.”
Casper takes the blade easily and weighs it in his hand before he gives it a few test moves, then hands it back. “Nice.”
I smile and open my mouth to tell him more when a scream from the pool draws everyone’s attention.
Chapter 2—Milly
Ishould have known that this was too good to last.Stupid girl.My grandfather’s voice filters about in my head, and I can’t help but agree with him. I should have kept with what we’ve known, what we’ve been doing. Sure, it was a lonely existence that was exhausting, having to look over our shoulders every five seconds while we ran. We were safe, though. But that scream? That’s anything but safe.
I ignore the women talking to me and turn to the pool like everyone else does. Some kids cry when they get scared or run and hide. Not mine. He freezes. He shouts out his distress and then goes cold as stone. Thank God he’s playing in the shallow part of the pool, or he’d have sunk to the bottom for sure as I look over his fear-stricken face.
I don’t have time to think, to react in a way that might not draw so many eyes. And honestly, I don’t owe these people anything. I rented the place they own fair and square. Nothing about our interaction so far has anyone owing anyone else a thing.
“Ollie,” I call as I walk closer to the pool.
He doesn’t even look over at me, but I know he heard it.
Everyone is quiet. Too quiet. They’re not even pretending not to watch. I get that we’re the outsiders here, and I’m okay with that. I got no gut reaction that told me to run when I first met the landlord and noted that he owned the clubhouse across from the backyard we were staying in. No one here has given me a bad vibe, a feeling that I’velearned to trust well in the past. Despite that, I wish they were all a bit more self-absorbed and didn’t watch. I feel their eyes on me. And no doubt Ollie does too. It’s not helping.
I call his name again as I take a step into the pool, ignoring the water that covers the tops of my slip-on sneakers. Still, he doesn’t look at me, and I follow his line of sight to see him staring at the man by the patio doors. He’s not one I’ve seen around before, and I note that he looks more weathered than the rest, as if he just got out of a sandstorm with the amount of dirt and grime on him. But it’s the knife in his hands that has me cursing. I might have been able to cure most of Ollie’s fears, but never that one.
“Oliver.” I put more sternness into my voice as I move through the water, blocking his view of the weapon. Only then do his eyes find me. “That’s right, baby, look at me. I think it’s time to go.”
I take a beat but don’t move closer. I’ve seen this before with him, and I know he doesn’t like sudden movements.
“Want to get out of the pool?” I ask. I always ask. He gets to decide, to make the choice. I won’t force the decision on him unless it’s a matter of his life on the line.
“Come on, Ollie. I’m done with the pool too.” The kid beside him, Teddy, grabs at his arms, and I lunge.
I only hear the splashing of water, but no doubt the people around us are finally reacting rather than just watching. Doesn’t take a person growing up here to realize this Teddy kid is special to this group, that all the kids here are. There are only a few of them, but each of them seems to have gotten a smile out of everyone they cross. And I doubt any of them take kindly to seeing another kid swing at one they consider family.
To his credit, Teddy moves out of the way enough that Ollie only nips him on his chin before I’m pulling my kid into my arms and dealing with the swings myself. I know he isn’t here right now. He’s far away, locked in a memory, and I’m not the one he’s hitting in his mind.
I squeeze a bit to get him to stop, even after I get a knee to the stomach and a few good hits to my ribs. Not sure if I’m tearing up from the pain or just proud as hell that, for someone so young, Ollie’s able to fight as well as someone twice his age.
I keep saying his name, just a calm note, even if I grunt it out. It takes only a minute or two for him to calm down, but eventually he does, and his hits turn into a hug, holding on for dear life.
I pick him up, cradling him in my arms as I make my way out of the pool. I ignore everyone else around me. None of them matter. Some might have asked something or even offered to help, but I tune them out as I walk to the back door and pick up my go-bag. I always have it with me. I would have had it on my back if I didn’t think it would have caused more questions from this group.
I head to the bathroom that Chains’ wife, Maddy, pointed out when we came in, setting Ollie down on the sink counter before turning back to shut the door. A few people have followed us in, but again, I close them out as I lock the door. Grabbing a towel off the rack, I wrap it around his shoulders and rub away the chill.
I don’t talk. This isn’t about me. It never is. It took me a while to figure it out, but Ollie doesn’t like to talk about things that happen till he’s ready. Till he’s had the time to think through his own thoughts and feelings on the matter.
“Never thought I would see one again.” He’s looking down at his hands that are folded in his lap as I continue to dry his hair. He nods, but only to himself, as if he just decided something.
I put the towel down on the sink as I grab my bag off the ground where I dropped it when we came in and set it on the sink beside him.
