Page 170 of Beneath the Stain

Nobody got in their way. Hell, the only person in the living room as Trav and Mackey put Grant to bed was the in-house nurse. The guys came in with Katy, who was sleeping soundly on Kell’s shoulder, exhausted by the new people and the horses and the pretty day.

The nurse, an older woman who probably did this as a second job, took the baby from Kell and settled her into the crook of Grant’s shoulder, making sure the bedrail was up so she couldn’t roll out. “He likes it when we do that,” she said, smiling softly at them all. “I think that baby’s the only reason he’s held on so long.”

“Say good-bye, guys,” Trav said softly. “We’ll be back tomorrow, but it’s always good to say bye.”

They filed by one at a time—a kiss on the bandana, a touch on the hand. Blake, surprisingly enough, bent and whispered something in Grant’s ear. Mackey kissed his cheek. And then they left.

The SUV was so quiet on the way back that Debra kept checking the rearview mirror to make sure they were okay.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Mackey said as they drove through the little strip of town that was Tyson, “but I need a fucking hot fudge sundae after that.”

“God, the frostie guy’s a mean old bastard,” Kell said. “Maybe we can stop and get shit on the way?”

Which was how they ended up eating monster ice cream bowls filled with fudge and nuts and bananas and cookie crumbles at two o’clock in the afternoon, while the smell of ham and potatoes filled the air.

Nobody at the house—not Briony, not Shelia, not Heather Sanders—said a damned word against it either.

Shadow of the Day

“WHATNOW?”Kell asked as Mackey licked the bottom of Trav’s bowl. God. Pot munchies. Ithadbeen a long time.

God willing, it would be a helluva lot longer before it happened again.

“Now?” Mackey muttered, smelling the afternoon of sickness and weed and sadness on his clothes. “Now, I take a shower. And then? Jesus, you fuckin’ slackers—we ain’t practiced in four goddamned days. How you feelin’, Briony?”

Briony looked up over the rim of her ice cream bowl. When she pulled it away, she had white streaks all around her mouth. She sucked the last bit of sundae off her tongue and said, “Better—but then, I slept all morning.”

“Sorry your mom couldn’t come,” he said, feeling bad about it. He and Trav had tried.

“I’m a grown-up, and the little kids need her. I’ll see her at Christmas. Anyway, what’d you want?”

“Can we do a setup in the garage? There’s fuckin’ room in there—”

“Mackey?” his mother said, playing with her melting bowl of ice cream. “Do you really have to swear that much?”

“Fu—”

“No, seriously. It’s one thing to use it for emotion, but it’s like every other word. Do you really need to go to the fucking store to buy some fucking ice cream to fucking eat?”

Mackey took a deep breath. “Mom, I just went to a fucking house of doom to see my fucking ex-boyfriend because he’s fucking dying. Yes, and that’s why we need to fucking practice, because if I don’t get some of this fucking shit out of my chest, I’m gonnafuckinglose it. Okay?”

Oh God. He’d killed it. They’d been doing okay—they’d been dealing, but he’d just yelled at his mother and brought it all out to the surface and—

“Ah-fucking-men,” Jefferson and Stevie said together, their voices coming from low and inside.

“Anything you want on the playlist?” Jefferson asked.

Mackey grinned at him, suddenly loving his brothers so much it hurt. “Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution,” he said, “‘Badlands,’ ‘When They Come For Me,’ ‘Johnny Guitar,’ ‘We Will Rock You’—”

“Further On Up The Road,” Kell added, since it was clear they were doing covers.

Mackey nodded. “Fair enough. Any other requests?”

“Come Out and Play,” Stevie said, at the same time Jefferson said, “The Kids Aren’t Alright.”

Mackey had to laugh. “Offspring it is.” It figured they’d both pick the same band.

“Stairway to Heaven,” Blake said, and they all met eyes.