Page 27 of Love Me Back (Diamond Creek #2)

Grayson

Sunday afternoon family dinners were something my mother started when Carson turned eighteen and graduated high school. He’d been spending less and less time at home, and she missed him.

She’d demanded twice a month that all her children be home for dinner on Sunday afternoon so we could catch up. The only exception was when Hudson was in college. After their deaths, he came home and never went back.

It was something we continued knowing firsthand how short life could be and how quickly you could lose someone you loved.

Garcia had met with King. From his demeanor when he returned, I assumed all had gone well. Jessie spent the morning with her father and brother, visiting and catching up until she insisted on helping Addie with preparing the meal.

When her brother said he wasn’t hungry, she assured him she was the prep chef; her job was cutting up vegetables, and she wouldn’t actually be cooking anything.

He sighed exaggeratedly, going so far as to swipe his hand across his forehead and shake it as if removing nonexistent sweat.

She flipped him off as she left the room to roaring laughter.

Tonight, we were using the formal dining room.

The table sat fourteen people. My mother bought it before she passed away.

She said she needed a table large enough to hold her six children and their spouses.

Addie placed the last platter of food on the table, and I thought about what Jessie had said about her and school as she took her seat between Tyson and Jessie’s brother Jamie.

Bowls and platters made their way around the table as conversation buzzed quietly in the air. I squeezed Jessie’s hand and said, “Addie, if I ask you a question, will you promise to tell me the truth?”

I saw Jessie turn to me out of the corner of my eye, but I kept my gaze focused on my baby sister. Addie looked up at me, her eyes wide, and I wondered if she knew what I was about to ask.

“Um,”—she looked around the table before coming back to me—“sure?”

“Are you happy being in school?”

Carson set his fork down and leaned onto the table, eyeing my sister, who wiggled in her seat.

“All I’ve wanted was to become a vet, Grayson. You know that.”

“That doesn’t answer the question, Addie,” Hudson countered. He had also sat back, waiting to see how she responded.

“Now is hardly the time to discuss this. We have guests,” she argued.

She was avoiding my question, and I knew Jessie was right. Addie didn’t want to go to school. At least not for that.

“Why do you want to be a vet?” Jessie asked. I reached under the table and squeezed her hand again. She was more apt to answer Jessie.

Addie shrugged. “The ranch could use a vet on location. It would cut down on expenses.”

“The ranch is doing fine with the local vet, Addie. If you don’t want to be a vet, why the hell are you going to school?” Carson barked.

“Well, I can’t just stay here and do nothing all day, can I?” she shouted, tossing her fork on her plate. She was on the verge of tears, but Addie was one of those women who cried more when she was angry than when she was sad.

“Addie, you don’t do nothing all day.” My own eyes widened when Tyson joined in. “Who would cook and clean if you’re taking care of animals all day?”

“What the fuck, Ty?” Addie glared at Tyson .

“That came out wrong.”

Garcia came to Ty’s rescue when he chuckled, then added, “I think what your brother means is that you do a lot of things here in the home that would need to be outsourced if you were working full time. Now, granted, that wouldn’t cost nearly as much as I am sure you pay in vet fees yearly.

But it also wouldn’t have the same feel as someone who does it out of love. ”

“Yea that’s what I meant!” Tyson agreed, pointing at Garcia. “Jessie apparently can’t cook,” he mumbled.

“Ty!” I growled.

“Grayson, he’s right.” Her hand squeezed my arm in an attempt to calm me down. It wasn’t working. “I can’t cook. I hate cooking. My mother tried to teach me, but it just never stuck.”

“Understatement,” Jamie scoffed with a grin.

Jessie narrowed her eyes at her brother before turning back to Addie. “If being at the ranch and cooking and cleaning and taking care of your brothers is what makes you happy right now, or forever, then that’s what you should do.”

“I need to contribute the way the others do,” she whispered.

“Addie, you are contributing,” Carson insisted. “You think these yahoos would eat this good without you? And you know they won’t clean the damn house.”

Addie smiled, and I put my arm around Jessie, pulling her close so I could kiss her temple. I was thankful she had brought this to my attention.

“Addie, drop out of school if that’s what you want to do.”

“Yeah, come to the dark side, baby sister.” Hudson grinned. “It’s lonely being the only college dropout.”

Hudson might joke about walking away from college, but I knew something had happened. It wasn’t just our parents’ death. Now wasn’t the time to ask about that, though.

“Okay. If you really mean it.”

“I really mean it, Addie.” We shared a smile, and conversation returned to lighter topics, until Tyson brought up my horse.

“Jessie, you’ve spent some time getting to know the hands. Have you found the man you spoke to? ”

“What man?” Garcia asked.

Jessie explained about the man in the barn who yelled at her. “I have not. But the thing that bothers me most is that he got in and out of the barn without anyone seeing him.”

“Maybe he’s a ghost,” Tyson offered with a sneer.

“Are you calling mi sobrina a liar?” Garcia asked, his voice dropping a few octaves.

Tyson’s head popped up, and his face paled as if he’d forgotten Jessie’s uncle was there and that he was the head of the cartel. It didn’t go unnoticed that Dario, Jessie’s father, didn’t speak much when his older brother was around.

“No one checked the trapdoor?” Pops asked.

Everyone at the table turned to stare at my grandfather. “What trapdoor?” I asked.

“The one in the barn.”

“Pops, there is no trapdoor,” Carson said.

“Sure is. Under the stall.”

“Which stall, Pops?” I asked.

“The one that demon horse is in.” Pops never looked up from his plate as he shared a secret we had all somehow missed.

“How the hell have we missed a trapdoor? And where the hell does it go?”

Pops finally looked up when everyone fell quiet. “To the tunnels.”

“Uncle Mando, it’s time,” Jessie said.

“Time for what?” I asked.

Garcia sat back in his seat and looked at Grayson.

“ Yessica called me after your accident. For some reason, she thought maybe I was involved.” He glared at Jessie, and I cleared my throat, giving him an icy stare of my own.

“I assured her I had nothing to do with it, but I would look into it, and I am afraid what I’ve found is not good. ”

Garcia looked at my grandfather before continuing, “Mr. Johnson, I’m afraid your daughter’s death was not an accident.”

“WHAT?” Carson shouted.

The rest of us sat in our seats, too stunned to say a word. We looked between ourselves and then looked at Pops. “The man responsible for the death of your daughter and her husband is the same man responsible for Grayson’s accident and the disappearance of the horse.”

Garcia studied my grandfather, waiting for a reaction.

“Pops? Do you know who it is?” I asked. I watched the blood drain from Pops’ face and his shoulders slump.

“Pops?” Carson placed a hand on grandfather’s shoulder. Pops shook his head, sorrow etched on his face as he looked at Garcia and asked, “It’s David, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Johnson. I am sorry.”

“Who the fuck is David?” Tyson asked.

Emerson and Addie had been quiet. Jessie held my hand, rubbing my arm. “You knew?”

“Uncle Mando told me on Friday. I asked him to wait. With King’s men here yesterday, I was sure nothing would happen. I’m sorry, Grayson.” I leaned over and kissed her. I didn’t like that she hadn’t come to me right away, but I couldn’t fault her for doing exactly what I would have done.

“David is my son,” Pops confessed. “He left home when he was twenty-two, before any of you were born. Every few years he would reach out for money, and every few years, your grandmother would give in and send him some.”

“How did we not know we had an uncle?” Addie asked.

“Because I didn’t allow your grandmother nor your mother to speak about him. I officially disowned him after he burned down the barn.”

My head snapped up. “The barn? The fire where we lost half our horses and almost lost you and Mom and Carson?”

Pops nodded. “He came around looking for money. And I told him no. Your grandmother was gone, and I guess he thought I would give in the way she did.”

“That fire was fifteen years ago,” Hudson exclaimed.

“He never came back after that, so I assumed he’d died.” I watched a tear slip from my grandfather’s eye. Never in my thirty-five years had I ever seen my grandfather cry. Not at my grandmother’s funeral. Not even at my parents’ funeral.

“Don’t you cry for that son of a bitch,” I growled, slamming my hand on the table. I wanted to stand up and storm out, but I was stuck in this damn chair. “You didn’t cry for your wife; you didn’t cry for your daughter. They were innocent. You don’t get to cry for him!”

“Grayson,” Jessie whispered.

“Fuck this.” I rolled away from the table and out of the room. I went to my office and slammed the door behind me.

Opening the bottom drawer of my desk, I pulled out the bottle of whiskey I kept there. I didn’t drink it often. But this was my father’s favorite. I kept it hidden here until I needed to feel him.

Ignoring the sharp knock on the door, I poured two fingers of whiskey and drank it down before quickly pouring another. The door opened, and surprise settled over me to see Jessie’s father walk in.

“Got another glass?”

I eyed him for a moment before pulling a second glass from the drawer. There were six in total. One for each of us. Every year on the anniversary of our parents’ death, my siblings and I opened a brand-new bottle and drank it as we remembered them.

I poured the second glass and set it on the desk, waiting for him to take it. He lifted the glass and held it out. “To fucked-up families.”

I clinked my glass against his, and we each took a sip. Dario sat in the chair in front of my desk and stared into his glass.

“I didn’t want to move back to Mexico. I left home at twenty-two and came to the States. I met my wife, got married, had three children, and I was content.”

Dario’s accent wasn’t as pronounced as Armando’s, but it was there. I wondered where he was going with this. He’d been quiet since he got here, rarely speaking unless it was to his brother or his son. He didn’t even talk to Jessie much.

“I hated my father. He was a mean son of a bitch. He worked for Alejandro Vasquez’s father.

When Alejandro took over, my father moved up the ranks.

And when my father died, Armando took his place.

Then my brother took Alejandro’s place in January.

He asked me to move my family back to Mexico and sit on his right. So, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my brother.” He shrugged as if it were just that simple. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do for your brothers?”

I thought about Tyson and what he’d recently done for the club, and how I’d asked him to take Addie and leave if the sheriff called in the Feds. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my siblings.

“One day you’ll have children, Grayson. You’ll see that you can forgive your child for anything.

Sometimes, that forgiveness hurts more than what they did.

” He downed the rest of his whiskey and stood, placing the glass on my desk.

“Your grandfather deserves grace. He won’t blame your uncle; he’ll blame himself. ”