Burn in Hail (The Hail Raisers Book 3) Read online

  Chapter 24

  Kids up in this bitch.

  -Bumper sticker

  Tate

  At first, I was worried that she was going to take her own life.

  But then, as I sat there and observed her, I realized that the thing that I once thought was a handful of pills, was actually a handful of glittery looking beads.

  “What is that?” I asked, walking up to Ariya.

  Ariya looked over at me and shrugged. “She loved glitter.”

  The pain in her voice physically hurt to hear.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Ariya.”

  Ariya shrugged. “I heard what went down at church a few days ago.”

  I grimaced.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “By that point, my baby wasn’t able to do anything but feel the pain. We kept her sedated and comfortable, so she didn’t hear anything that she wasn’t supposed to hear.”

  “Ariya…”

  She smiled then.

  “For two years I watched her battle that beast,” she said.

  My gut clenched.

  If there was anything in it at this point, I was sure that it’d be a roiling ball of despair just waiting for the right time to come out.

  But I hadn’t eaten before I’d come to the funeral, coming straight from a repossession job for the bank to make it in time.

  I didn’t know what to say to her. Words wouldn’t make what she was feeling go away.

  So, I stayed silent and listened to her speak.

  “I tried for two years to get him to talk to her. To acknowledge her existence.” She angrily wiped away tears. “I’m kind of happy that your grandmother shot him in the foot. It wasn’t anything less than what I wished upon him.”

  “He contracted a secondary infection,” I said. “They don’t expect him to make it out of this without his foot being amputated.”

  She started to laugh.

  “He deserves it to be more than his foot,” she told me, then turned to stare. “I know that Hennessy didn’t come to the funeral because she didn’t want to make me uncomfortable, but tell her that she’s welcome to come over and look at photos anytime she wants.” She paused. “Her father threatened to make our lives a living hell if I told her about my baby. I hate that she never got to know her sister. So, if Hennessy wants, I’d be more than willing to share photos with her…anything she wants.”

  I dropped my head and looked at the brilliant green grass at our feet.

  “She’d like that,” I told her. “Is there anything I can do?”

  And she would. Hennessy had a thirst for life that really left me feeling humbled sometimes. She didn’t have a hateful bone in her body, though that’s not to say that she couldn’t get mad.

  Ariya shook her head. “No.”

  ***

  Six hours later, I arrived at home to find my Grams’ car in my driveway, right alongside Hennessy’s.

  Yesterday Hennessy had gotten word that a young woman, just moving to the area, was interested in her house and had already signed the lease. The landlord had asked Hennessy to forgo the usual four-week notice because the woman sounded like she was in dire straights.

  When Hennessey had called me in a panic, I’d solved it all by telling her that she needed to move in with me.

  At first, she’d been reluctant, but once I’d talked her around later that night, she’d come to realize that she wanted to live at her own house alone about as much as I wanted to live at my house alone.

  Now, twelve hours later, my living room was filled with not only power tools and half-finished projects, but also floor to ceiling boxes.

  I pushed through the front door, smiling when a wall of garlic hit me like a battering ram.

  Please let it be her lasagna. Please let it be her lasagna. I chanted to myself as I skirted past the boxes that were now spilling into the hallway, making my way to the kitchen to find both my Grams and Hennessey sitting at what was now Hennessy’s and my dining room table, spreading what looked to be garlic butter onto slices of toast.

  They both looked up at the same time, and two large smiles graced their faces.

  “I invited your grandmother over,” Hennessy said, gesturing to Grams. “She showed me how to make your favorite dish.”

  I grinned. “I can see.”

  “She also shared a secret with me.”

  My brows rose.

  “What’s that?”

  “She said that your feet used to be ticklish, as well as the soft skin right behind your knees.” Hennessy turned toward me. “Can we test that out really quick?”

  I shook my head, hopefully showing her that I wasn’t scared of her and her tickles. Though, just thinking about someone touching me behind the knee—even Hennessy—was enough to make me start sweating.

  It wasn’t that I was ticklish. It was because I was fucking freaked out by it.

  Though, it wouldn’t do to tell her that. She’d use it against me.

  “You ladies need to find something else to talk about,” I informed them as I walked into the kitchen and reached into the fridge for a beer. “Oh, and also. The new neighbor is some weird chick that tried to ask me to take her tire off. With her husband standing right there.”

  Hennessy snickered.

  “That’s really not nice to classify them as weird just because someone asked you to help. You’re a big, strapping boy. It’s plain to anyone with eyes that you can likely do things a whole lot better than they can.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  My grandmother was such a soft soul.

  Speaking of which…

  “Grams, did you go visit someone in jail today that you weren’t supposed to?”

  Grams shrugged, and Hennessy turned curious eyes from me to Grams.

  “Who did you go….oh. How was he?”

  Her father was an ass, and I couldn’t understand why either one of them cared.

  It was ironic as hell, though, that Reverend—who wasn’t a reverend in town any longer—had to go to anger management classes.

  He’d be spending two years in jail, too.

  After being arrested for pulling a gun on me—thanks to the multiple witnesses—IE the entire fucking congregation—witnessing his break down, there wasn’t a shortage of stories that pointed their finger at Hanes.

  He was going to be serving another year and eleven months in that place, with the possibility of four more years if he didn’t watch his step. While he was in there, he was informed he’d be seeing the prison psychologist, who’d help him get his anger under control.

  “He was fine, dear,” Grams said. “He was angry, though, just like he was last week.”

  I snorted.

  “You’re my grandmother. He doesn’t like me at all.” I paused. “So it’s only understandable that he’d do the same thing to you that he did to me, and still does to me.”

  Grams smiled.

  “Reverend Hanes was supposed to marry your momma, and then you came along.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “What?”

  “What?” Hennessy echoed.

  Grams nodded.

  “Needless to say, he’s never liked you all that much because you signaled the end of his relationship with her.”

  “Damn,” I said.

  Finally knowing the reason he disliked me all these years was actually quite freeing.

  “Well, I guess he did have a good reason…” I muttered.

  “That’s not a good reason,” Hennessy snapped. “In fact, it’s a pretty freakin’ bad one.”

  My heart warmed at her words.

  “And you, my dear, are the reason they didn’t get married the second time.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “What?”

  Grams nodded, seriousness written all over her face.

  “When your father left, Tate, your mother and Reverend Hanes got back together. Only, a week or two later,
Hennessy’s mother found out she was pregnant with Hennessy, and the entire process started all over again.”

  I just shook my head.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  ***

  As my Grams left that night, she stopped on the walkway leading to her car and turned.

  Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver pouch.

  “I know that you haven’t asked, and you never intended to ask since you seem to think that I need it, but I want you to use this when the time is right.”

  I furrowed my brows and took the small silver bag, immediately realizing what was inside the moment that my fingers closed around it.

  “Grams…”

  “It was never your mother's.”

  My brows went up.

  “She stole it to hock it at a pawn shop, and I bought it back from Sandy. It was never hers.”

  Knowing that, I started to smile.

  I’d not asked for the ring because I wasn’t willing to put something on Hennessy’s finger that had once belonged to my mother. It was as if it had bad mojo or something, so I never bothered to ask.

  But hearing that about the ring, it started to make me understand.

  “Thanks Grams,” I said, pulling her into a tight hug. “You coming over for the Fourth?”

  Grams patted my shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on how long I play Bingo. If I start losing early, I’ll come over. If not, then I might be there all night.”

  After letting her go with a laugh, she climbed into her car and I watched her drive away.

  “What’s that?”

  I turned to find Hennessy there, staring at my hand—the same hand that had the ring pinched between two fingers.

  “This?” I asked, holding it up.

  She nodded, her eyes widening.

  Knowing what we both wanted, I decided that it was time to stop wasting my life, and start living it.

  I dropped down on one knee, held the ring up between my fingers, and said four words. “Will you marry me?”

  Epilogue

  Tequila doesn’t solve problems, but it’s worth a shot.

  -Taco shop welcome sign

  Hennessy

  8 months later

  I bobbed my head to the beat, then pulled the handle of the mop I was using up to my mouth and belted out the lyrics.

  “Hit me baby one more time!” I bellowed.

  Britney’s voice was drowned out by my god-awful voice, and seconds later the song ended just as abruptly as it had started.

  But then, my jam came on.

  “Ohhhh, yeah!” I cried out, dropping the mop and twisting around on my sock covered feet.

  Putting these hardwood floors into the house was one of the best decisions Tate and I had ever made.

  They allowed me to slide around on socks just as easily as I would on slick concrete floors, only they looked ten times better.

  “Bye, bye, bye!” I cried out.

  Then I danced.

  Two days ago, I’d started my mad cleaning frenzy.

  During that time, I’d discovered that N’Sync radio on Pandora was the perfect thing to listen to while you were cleaning. It kept me moving, never once failed to entertain me, and I didn’t have to stop every five minutes to skip the song.

  It was literally the best station since sliced bread.

  “It’s gonna be MAY!” I cried out. “All that I do!”

  I paused to pick up a piece of trash, only instead of bending at the waist, I squatted down, doing a shimmy shake as I came back up.

  Not only because I was dancing to the music, but because I was also six months pregnant with The Hulk junior, AKA Tate Casey’s fat kid, and was as big as a brick shit house.

  They say that at six months with your first child, you’d just barely be showing.

  I, apparently, was an anomaly.

  I, Hennessy Harmony Casey, was so pregnant that it looked like I was carrying twins.

  Only, I wasn’t.

  I only had one baby in there.

  One single, fat baby boy who apparently took after his father in the size department.

  “Good one.”

  I froze with my hands on my knees, and looked over my shoulder to see not just Tate standing there, but Evander, Travis, Baylor, and the two guys that I didn’t see all that much, Parker and Rafe.

  They were all staring at me with various shades of laughter on their face.

  It was the look on my husband’s face that had me turning bright red.

  On his face wasn’t laughter, but a sexy look that clearly said, “I’d fuck you right now if I didn’t have the boys with me.”

  “Uhh,” I paused, then turned.

  All eyes went to my stomach.

  “I’m surprised you can move that well with that thing poking out there.”

  I snorted and walked to the radio that was playing my music, then turned it down before I answered.

  “Y’all here for lunch?” I asked, looking at the clock.

  All of them shook their heads.

  “Negative.” Tate said. “They’re here to help me raise that stupid fucking windmill blade up on the wall.”

  I grinned, wide and huge.

  “Really!?” I squealed.

  I’d gotten a windmill blade—which was eight feet in diameter—from a trades day of sorts that ran along the state line once a month.

  I’d gotten it for our wall, and it’d sat against the side of our house. Until today.

  Tate rolled his eyes and walked up to me, pulling me into his arms.

  “How you feeling, wife?”

  “Good,” I said. “I needed some motivation to clean…”

  He snorted and pressed a kiss to my forehead before backing away.

  His hand went to my stomach when he felt a kick from our baby, and I watched him smile as he felt our son move.

  He stayed like that for a few long seconds, then patted my belly twice.

  “Though, sandwiches wouldn’t go unaccepted.”

  I rolled my eyes at the subtle hint to make him a sandwich, and went to the kitchen.

  “Anybody else want one?”

  Every last one of them raised their hand.

  Eight sandwiches later, I had a windmill hung, and it looked flippin’ awesome.

  “That’s beautiful,” I breathed, staring up at it in awe.

  “Fuck.”

  I turned to find Baylor staring at his phone.

  “What?”

  “Lark.”

  He need not say more.

  Lark and Baylor had a thing. One that I wasn’t sure I understood.

  But the thing they had they kept private, and it left the rest of us to wonder what in the hell they were doing.

  “Gotta go.”

  Then he was gone, leaving without another word.

  “Fifty bucks says they’re doing it.”

  “Two hundred says they’re married by the end of the year.”

  “Five hundred says she’s pregnant by the end of the year.”

  I started to laugh, and walked to my man, who was finishing off the remains of his sandwich.

  “Thank you!” I wrapped my arms around his waist.

  He pulled me in close, then said the words that never got old.

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “What about get me a puppy?”

  “Anything but that.”

  We compromised, and two days later, I had a puppy. One that Tate pretended to hate, but secretly loved.

  What’s next?

  What the Hail

  Book 4 of The Hail Raisers

  Chapter 1

  Never treat a woman like an object. It hates that.

  -Things not to say to a woman

  Lark

  “We’re going to send you to Hostel, Texas,” the big man in fr
ont of me named Sam, said. “We don’t normally send two birds to the same place just in case, but we have one who’s just left there, and all her old contacts are still in place, so it works out, plus we have allies there that’ll watch over you. Do you have any questions?”

  I looked at the packet of information he’d given me.

  A new ID. A stack of bills that established my new ‘identity.’ A thousand dollars in cash. Everything someone might need to start all the way over.

  “I’ll have a job?” I asked.

  He nodded. “You will. All the stuff that’s there right now of the old bird’s will become yours. Her car. Her house. Her things. You won’t be her, but you’ll be using all of her stuff. Our contact there at the diner will advance you a paycheck so you’ll have money to pay those bills. Gotcha?”

  I nodded, suddenly becoming nervous.

  “Uncle Sam, did you make sure to catch up on the car payments for her loan?”

  My eyes flicked to the young woman that was sitting at a desk in the corner of the room. She was furiously writing on something, her hand periodically going to a piece of paper that she’d flip over to the small stack that was steadily increasing in height on the corner of her desktop.

  “Shit.” Sam grunted. “Yeah, I’ll do that. The car that you have hasn’t had its note paid yet. I think the old bird was a month behind because of some doctor bills that she’d accrued while she was there. I’ll make it current, though, and we’ll make sure you start fresh.”

  I nodded.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  I was so tired of being scared. Would I be scared once I got to this new town, Hostel?

  I hoped not.