Alex’s gaze softened a fraction. “Sorry, Georgia. Got a dinner date in town.”
The word date reverberated through the house and no one spoke for a moment. They all knew Melissa had been dating Rick and after his shooting had taken up with Alex.
Deke spread the papers on the counter. “Copies for everyone to read.”
Alex reached in his coat pocket and pulled out an expensive-looking pen. “It’s as we discussed?”
“Land transfers from Rick to you, in accordance with Dad’s will.”
Without reading it, Alex reached for the top copy and flipped to the last page. He scrawled his name in the spot indicated for him.
“Don’t you want to read it?” Deke asked.
“I don’t need to read it. I trust Rachel got it right.” He handed the pen to Rick.
Rick accepted the pen. “You brought the money?”
“I did.” Rick signed and handed the pen to Georgia and then Deke who signed as witnesses.
Alex reached in his pocket, pulled out a dollar bill, and laid it on the counter.
Rick pocketed the money and signed. “Land’s all yours.”
Alex carefully tucked his pen back in his breast pocket along with his copy of the deed. “Excellent. Sorry I can’t stay.” Relief, not remorse, hummed below the surface. They’d avoided World War III but had also not signed a peace treaty. In fact, it might not take much to make the fireworks fly again.
“Alex, want a plate for the road?” Georgia offered.
For her, Alex’s smile was genuine. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and she hugged him fiercely. “Thanks, but no.”
Georgia smiled as she stepped back, but Rick knew their brother’s early departure had dashed whatever hopes she’d had of a family gathering. That sparked irritation, which peeled away whatever good intentions Rick had brought with him to the meeting. Dinner date. Melissa. Shit. “Don’t want to keep her waiting.”
The sarcasm-laced words melted the ice and for a moment, Alex’s eyes burned with fury. Instead of commenting, he turned. The steady clipped strike of his shoes echoed through the house and seconds later the front door slammed so hard that the windows rattled.
For a moment, no one said anything. Then Georgia pulled a beer from the refrigerator and popped it. “No blood was shed. I’d say we’ve made some progress.”
Progress. All-out war had cooled to bitter resentment. “Who’re you kidding, Georgia? We’re a fucked-up fractured excuse for a family.”
A small shrug lifted her shoulder. “So you admit we’re a family? Good. That’s progress.”
To Jenna fear tasted like fast-food hamburgers and fries.
Since Jenna had been held prisoner in that closet for nine days, she’d not been able to eat hamburgers in any way, shape, or form. And the smell of fries turned her stomach. Her aunt had taken her to a local fast-food place when she’d first moved to Baltimore as a treat but Jenna took one look at the meal and had cried.
She stopped at the traffic light and her stomach grumbled. She had a chicken and a salad in her fridge at home but as she glanced over at the hamburger chain restaurant, she wondered if she could finally walk into the place and order a meal like a normal person.
Her stomach curdled just imagining the smell but stubbornness had her turning into the parking lot. Before she had a chance to overthink, she grabbed her purse and pushed through the doors, soon finding herself standing in front of the light-up display menu. The choices seemed overwhelming.
When it was her turn, a teenage girl behind the counter barely looked her way when she asked, “May I take your order?”
Jenna had no idea what she wanted so she opted for the food that churned the worst memories. “Hamburger.”
“What kind?”
“Kind?”
“We serve it a dozen different ways.”
A dozen ways? All she remembered was the small, round disk of meat floating in a bun of white bread that her jailor gave her each day. “What do you recommend?”
The girl shrugged. “Number one is our best seller.”
Jenna glanced at the board overhead but found the choices staggering. “I’ll take a number one.”
The girl dropped her gaze to her register as if her thoughts had already moved to the next order. “You want me to supersize that?”
“What?” God, she wasn’t sure if she could eat a small. “No. Small is fine.”
The girl drummed her fingers and attempted a smile. “For here or to go?”
The place wasn’t too busy or crowded and if she waited until she got home, the meal would be cold. “I’ll eat here.”
“Kind of drink?”
“Drink?” So many choices. “Water is fine.”
“You get a soda.”
She watched as the cooking crew prepared the burgers behind the counter. Such efficiency. “No, thanks. Just water.”
The girl rang up the order, took Jenna’s money, and handed her the red tray filled with a neatly wrapped burger, a sleeve of fries, and a small iced water.
Jenna moved to a seat by the window and carefully unwrapped the burger. She smoothed out the paper. She hesitated and then reached for the burger and held the soft warm bread in her hands.
“Little Jennifer?”
The man’s voice drifted through the cracks of the door. Even as she remained huddled in the corner, exhausted from weeping for her mother, a part of her was grateful to hear his voice. It had been too silent for so long and she’d lost track of time.
Now he was talking to her.
“Little Jennifer?”
She clung to her pink blanket. “Yes.”
“I have food for you. Are you hungry?”
Her stomach grumbled. “Yes.”
The sound of locks turned and clicked and the closet door slowly opened. Dim light from the other room drifted into the closet, which smelled of her urine.
She looked up into the vivid blue eyes that danced with an unnerving excitement. He set down a fast-food bag and a cup of soda with a straw. The scents of the food made her mouth water and chased away some of her fear.
“Go on. Take it.”