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“We need the money real bad,” Silas whispered. His voice barely broke the air, but it still cracked.

“What are you in?”

Silas looked back at him. “Deep. I’m in fucking deep.”

“You sit your behind down right there at that table, young man.” Meems gestured with her chin at the extra chair that seemed to permanently remain at their dining room table.

She couldn’t do it with her hands considering they were covered in mitts and holding a big casserole dish.

Uncertainty bustled through Trevan’s system. “You don’t have to feed me.”

“Sure, I do. That’s what family does.”

Hurt balled like knotted yarn in the middle of his chest.

His mother didn’t, and he gulped, itching on his feet, unsure of where he stood.

Wanting to stay and run and knock some damned sense into his best friend.

Drugs.

He was running drugs for his piece of shit father back and forth between a drop point at the river and the back door of Keg & Creek Tavern.

He understood being desperate, but he was worried Silas was going to find himself in big trouble. Real big trouble. The kind you couldn’t take back and followed you around forever.

His own guilt clawed up to the base of his throat, but he closed it off. Because how could he stand there in front of Meems with that knowledge and keep it a secret?

How, when he knew full well it put Silas in danger?

But Silas had made him swear on their friendship. And a promise he made to Silas was one he’d never break.

He stalled while Meems settled the casserole dish onto the middle of the table, then she turned, slipped off her mitts, and took him by the chin.

“Love is never a burden.”

That promise burned from the depths of her eyes.

He fought the tears in his. He knew what she was saying. That there was love here. That she had it for him.

“And Meems has got all the love and that means we do too.” He startled at Elena’s voice, and he shifted to find her sliding into her chair that was to the left side of his, and Brody clambered onto the one on the other side of her.

“What’d you make us, Meems?” Brody shouted.

Meems stared at Trevan for one prolonged beat before she turned, brightness invading her voice. “Well, your favorite of course.”

“Because I’m your favorite?” The kid beamed at her from his chair.

He’d grown a ton since they first moved here. His brown hair cut short, and he was both funny and a little wild.

Meems called him her sweet little menace.

“No favorites around here,” Meems said before she dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. “We’ve got plenty enough love to go around.”

“And we love each other for our own special things.” Elena basically sassed it.

“That’s right.” Meems was back to looking at Trevan, and he blew out a sigh and pulled out his chair, slumped down into it just as Silas pulled out his chair directly across from him.

His eyes full of shame and a plea.