image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/d3f6ac20-e218-44fe-9676-2a542587923e/0_2.webp]

Kennedy…

A good sleep. Had anything in the world sounded so wonderful to her? All of my kingdoms, all my gold, for a mattress. Kennedy rested her temple against the window, feeling the vibration of the road.

“Is Rig a nickname?”

Dressed in black, he was a shadow in the backseat. “No.”

“Your mother looked at a cute little pudgy baby, all dark curls and eyelashes, and said to herself - Rig.”

“I suppose.” The Wolf shifted in his seat. “Seams an odd comment coming from someone named after a dead president.”

“My mom liked the sound of the name.” Kennedy traced her finger through the fine fog her breath had left on the window. “I think she hoped I would rise above our situation and become someone she could brag to the church ladies about.”

From the back, Rig said, “My fathers ran an equipment rental business when I was young. I think we were all named after their favorite pieces of machinery.”

She turned to look at him. “Brothers? As in plural? How many did you have?”

“Seven that lived through the pregnancy and two that didn’t survive the body’s gate.”

“Nine?” Kennedy gasped.

Terry swerved just a little, then righted the truck. He made a low, questioning grunt.

“How is that possible?”

“We don’t suppress or coddle. There are four of us still alive. That’s a high number for a family that tracks and guards. Ansel is the only one who was drawn to politics and technology. Our people… we gladly put our bodies in the path of harm.”

“But…” Kennedy gripped the back of her seat. “In the town my birth parents are from, there are hardly any children at all. The playgrounds are empty.”

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“There is a cost to generational suppression,” Rig said. “My people believe it is harmful for a child to not experience change when they are most mailable and unformed in utero. To wait until a child is seven or nine years old seems cruel to me.”

“But how old are you? What left your family with only four from so many?”

He scratched the stubble on his cheek. “I’m Nineteen.”

“You are not. You look as old as me.” Kennedy elbowed Terry. “Don’t you think he looks like he is in his twenties?” The big man shrugged.

The grin Rig gave her was wry. “I never get carded.” He brushed his hands through his hair. “A brief life can be a good one.”

Her curiosity wouldn’t let her stop asking questions. “Do you have children?”

“Not yet.”

She turned in her seat to look at him more directly. “Could you have them? I mean...”

“The only girl I love starts with keys and I left her alone to come spend time with you two lunatics.”

*

Nana …

Happy, with a Shirley Temple in her hand, she waited at the empty table for her shrimp appetizer to arrive. God would know if she had ordered expensive wine out of spite. And Nan didn’t need alcohol to help her enjoy her dinner, anyway. They’d been blessed with a table by the window, and the baby blue sky above the restful sea was soothing. Even the froth from the passage of the ship was beautiful and calming. Why had she never done this before?

When Mary Lynn rolled into the room with her hair pinned up and pink cheeks, Nan choked on a sip of her drink. The creature her son had married so many years ago had not shown a spot of romantic interest in anyone or anything but her son in the twenty-five years she had known her. A surge of indignation surged within her on her son’s behalf.

Maybe she was just catching a cold. As their guardian rolled her up to the table, Nana saw that the dress had a slit that showed the side of Mary’s knee. She hadn’t noticed that before. Nana pressed her fingertips to her throat. Her daughter-in-law, after all of her quacking, had put on the fancy glittery heals. What on earth was that girl doing?

He leaned over, broad back straining his jacket as he locked her wheel chair wheels. The way Mary was looking at him made Nana uncomfortable. Nana didn’t care if money shot out of his bottom every time you tugged his earlobe.

That man needed to keep his hands off her daughter-in-law. The bold fool pulled her chair out, waiting next to it like he had no realization at all what a prickly, ornery creature she was. It took all of her self control not to drop her mouth open when Mary politely said, “Thank you.” With more grace than Nana would have thought possible, Mary Lynn rose from her wheel chair. With his hand on her elbow, Mary took the two steps to the table and sat down gracefully.

Nana swore, if that foolish girl had the poor sense to ask her to give her alone time with this man, she was going to knock her out. Maybe he drugged her, or she’d smuggled in some of David’s salve. She narrowed her gaze at the man as he took the seat next to her daughter-in-law.