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He saluted me with his brows, jerked the screen door open and went inside.

Chapter Sixteen

The Invitation

Brenna

I blinked back tears while pouring two cups of coffee, keeping my back to the two of them until I thought I could hold it together. It wasn’t easy to digest. An entire family, gone in the blink of eye over dope; it was too much for me to fathom.

Even if they weren’t my people, I thought to myself, as I took up the coffees and turned.

I felt selfish when I saw how pale Cole was. He hadn’t entered the kitchen; the column of the entry way supported his body. He was right in front of me, but his mind was miles away.

“Do you ever regret–?” I felt terrible for even allowing myself to utter that much of the question.

It may have sprung into my mind, but that didn’t mean I had to let it fall out of my mouth. It wasn’t the time for that kind of talk.

“I’m sorry,” I cleared my throat, and moved toward the table.

“Regret what?”

I shook my head, flashing a sympathetic smile, “Sit, you need something warm to drink.”

“I need something stiff to drink, but I can’t do all that. Coffee will do, I imagine.” Cole’s gentle nature poked through the gruffness edging into his voice.

I nodded, before admitting, “It doesn’t but it shocks the body enough to function some days.”

He grunted, one side of his mouth tipping upward, “Chef wasn’t never gonna ride off into the sunset. Anyone who thought otherwise clearly suffered from denial or indoctrination.”

He sighed, like it was a truth he’d kept hidden for a lifetime, “Nobody liked him except Mark, the rest of us only voted for him because he was a mean son of a bitch. The type you’d rather have on your side, than ever risk dancing with. There is a difference in earning respect and terrorizing it out of people. He never got taught that, now I guess he never will.”

I froze, my throat suddenly tightened with emotion.

“Brenna, if I ask you something, will you be honest with me?”

I felt my chest rise and fall with each breathe, and yet the lump in my throat kept right on swelling.

I lifted my gaze, only for it to accidentally lock with his.

“Don’t.” The single word took more energy than I cared to admit.

“I know, gorgeous. I know… but I have to. I have to know… Did he terrorize you?”

I tried to swallow, and my body lost the battle to hold back the tears. They spilled freely down my cheeks, but I tilted my chin despite them. I wouldn’t be looked at differently or gossiped about. He was dead. It was enough.

“Mmm.” The dry, short grunt ripped me back to the man I was staring at.

“I– I didn’t say anything.”

He pushed his lower lip out, reached with both hands, and made a gesture for me to come to him.

I exhaled, a bit of a humored sound catching on the lump.

That chair wasn’t going to hold the both of us, and if he held me, I’d probably really lose it. This wasn’t my loss, I didn’t need to go making this about me—

I sucked in a hearty breath, “Oh, my– Oh, my God.”

I clasped both hands over my mouth and turned in search of my purse.