“I know.” She pulled the knife away from me and grinned.
Most everyone had already dug in, even though not everyone was at the table yet.
Nixon finally came over and sat, and then my dad strolled into the room with Tex the Capo in tow. “Savages just started eating without praying first?”
“I prayed,” I lied. “Right Tank?”
His eyes narrowed. “Sure, is that why I just heard thunder? Lightning gonna strike here any time soon?”
Dad sighed. “Everyone sit. Where’s our guest of honor?”
The moms were pouring wine in the kitchen and making their way over to the giant buffet table, all of them talking so loudly that if Dad really did want to say a prayer, he’d have to scream it.
It was ridiculously crowded even in our giant dining room—then again, at this point, we had to have two tables.
One for the older kids and adults.
And another for the littles, so they didn’t get blood splatters on them.
Not even kidding. If I even hint at the incident at Christmas in 2016, my dad looks ready to flog me.
“Here!” Annie rushed into the kitchen at around the same time I took a huge sip of wine.
“Damn…” Junior hissed under his breath.
I tried to hold the cough in. My eyes watered, and my throat burned with the need to choke.
I lasted maybe three seconds before I started hacking the wine that went down the wrong tube out of pure shock at what was in front of me.
Serena wasn’t helpful with her sudden hitting of my back. “You okay, cousin? Something wrong?”
I grabbed my napkin and wiped my mouth. “Wrong tube.”
“Suuure,” Junior said under his breath while Maksim looked between the two of us like a show was about to start.
He mimed eating popcorn, then elbowed King as if to say, pay attention to the show!
I glared at the two of them.
It did nothing to deter the little shits.
I swear everything just encouraged Maksim’s bad behavior these days.
“Sorry.” Annie didn’t meet my eyes, instead looking everywhere but my face. Hell, the plant in the corner got more action than I did. She pulled out her chair next to Tank and gave him a cheerful grin. “Izzy wanted me to change.”
Tank smirked. “Remind me to give Izzy a hug later.”
“You’re welcome.” Izzy beamed, lifting her glass of wine in the air only to have my dad pull it from her hand and shake his head no, mainly because she’d already had two glasses.
She pouted.
Typical.
And of course, he immediately cracked, handed the wine back, and said, “But only a few more sips.”
I willed Annie to look at me.
And I had no idea why.
I hated her, right?
She was the reason for my suffering.
For my numbness.
And hers was the last name on my soul mate’s lips.
She was wearing a white crop top that fell over her shoulders and low slung jeans that showed more skin than I think I’d ever seen her show in my entire life.
She didn’t look like herself.
What the hell happened to her over in Italy? And why did it piss me off so much?
I could admit she looked hot as fuck—but she didn’t look like the Annie that cried at the drop of a hat.
The Annie I knew.
The one I hated.
Did that mean I was allowed to stare this stranger down? Drink her in and let her beauty consume me? Was she wearing pink lipstick?
Tank put his arm around her and squeezed. “Still shook up?”
She gave him a small nod then leaned into his chest. Fucking idiot looked ready to preen like a peacock all over the dinner table.
“Of course, she’s shook up.” I just had to start talking. “She could have died. I’m curious, do you report everything to the FBI, Tank, or only the things we let you report? Because bomb threats, that’s pretty huge, right?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “If you’re asking if I’ve been feeding them information, that’s a no. I only tell them what you allow me to tell them, and even then, you know I’m going to have to pick a side soon; they only believe the whole deep cover story for so long.”
“Complete shit that they even believe it now,” I admitted. “What with you coming over to family dinner—why are you here again?”
He grinned knowingly. “You asked that already.”
“Did I?” I reached for a roll. “Sorry was distracted by almost dying earlier and saving Annie’s life. You know how it is—” I snapped my fingers. “Oh wait, you don’t. Because you weren’t here then, but you’re here now.” I frowned. “I’m confused. Is it a convenience thing or—”
“Ash!” Dad barked. “Leave Tank alone. If you need someone to pester, take Junior downstairs and get a few hits in.”
“Great,” Junior grumbled. “Can’t I tap Maksim in? Ash nearly broke my jaw last week.”
I made a face. “Bullshit. You should have ducked and weaved.”
“I DID!” Junior roared. “You cheated!”
“Boys.” Tex pounded his fist onto the table, causing all the silverware to jump then resettle haphazardly. He poured himself a glass of wine. “Junior, I’m disappointed you’d back down from a fight. You growing soft now that you’re getting laid on the regular?”
“Oh God.” Nixon reached for his wine while his wife Trace snorted into hers. “Tex, could you not give me that visual of my daughter having sex? It makes me want to grab a steak knife.”
“Oh, we hid those.” Tex’s wife grinned. “You know, after Chase stabbed our son repeatedly in the back with one.” She lifted her wine glass. “Cheers.”
My dad, at least, had the decency to say sorry. Last year he’d been so pissed to learn that Breaker, aka Valerian, wasn’t dead and was cheerfully married to Violet, well let’s just say it was a shit show, and we all learned something very important that day.
When all else fails, a steak knife works just fine.
The rest of the dinner went by with awkward small talk about bombs. My entire appetite was gone; every single time I heard Annie laugh, I wanted to stab something.
I just couldn’t figure out if it was hate or something else.
All I knew is that I was minutes away from using Tank as target practice and gathering all the forks.
Tank looked down at his phone as it went off. “Speaking of bombs and work, am I telling them or not? It’s my superior?”
Tex leaned back in his chair. “Tell them. You can even bring the evidence in, and if they ask what the white horse represents, make sure you let them know it’s what we send someone when they’re a rat—which should also be a reminder to you about what happens to those who betray us.” He smiled and raised his glass toward Tank. “Cheers.”
“Right.” Tank grabbed his phone and then leaned down and kissed Annie on the head. “I’ll be back later to check on you, all right?” He shot me a dark look then left the table.
The sound of the front door slamming was like Christmas fucking morning.
I finally relaxed.
Assuming Annie would at least scowl at me, instead, she quietly ate the rest of her food and kept easy conversation with Izzy, never once looking in my direction.