FOURTEEN
Autumn
It was a beautiful house.
If ever I had wondered about how profitable loansharking was, all my questions were answered when we all pulled up in my car - because Peyton adamantly refused to try to climb up and squeeze into the tiny backseat of the cab in Eli's truck - and parked in the winding driveway.
It had to be four-thousand square feet, easily, and every inch of it cost a fortune.
"You okay?" I asked, looking over at Eli in my driver's seat, staring at the house like it might come alive to bite his head off.
Peyton leaned up between the seats, looking at Eli's profile.
"I think this is where people are supposed to make one of those 'band-aid' comments. But I am going to appeal to your stomach. I swear I can smell the turkey from here. Plus, Coop is freaking out," she added, making me aware for the first time that he was scratching at the window in the back. Which was weird; he was always good in the car.
"Let's go," Eli agreed, tone a bit dead, making my stomach tense.
It was good we were here.
But it wouldn't be good if he went in there all hollow, like he had been when he got out of prison.
Though, maybe they wouldn't even notice, being too overjoyed with his presence at all.
I reached for my door as Peyton fought with Coop so he didn't launch himself out without her.
She had chosen against the 1950s get-up Eli had actually seriously suggested to her. Instead, she was surprisingly subdued in a long, roomy deep teal, heavy-knit sweater that went slightly off-shoulder and came almost halfway down her thighs. She had black tights on underneath and a pair of camel-colored knee-high boots. There were three necklaces hanging down her chest in varying lengths; her hair was pulled in a side braid, and her makeup was mostly just some mascara.
She was naturally almost painfully gorgeous even if she preferred to usually go a little crazier with her makeup and clothes.
As for me, I struggled with my outfit for almost an hour, trying on one after another in front of Eli before he finally lost patience, jumped up, and went into my closet himself.
He came back with a white sweater with elastic on the waist and sleeves, tight deep brown skinny jeans, and a pair of brown flat, calf-height boots.
And, well, it was leaps and bounds better than anything I had chosen. Because he picked it out, too, I knew it was the right kind of outfit for his type of family functions. I didn't know if it was a dressy-dressy thing or a casual thing. This was something in between. Comfortable, seasonable, but put-together.
I left my hair down, did a little mascara, clasped on some studs, and called it a day.
"Breathe," Peyton said behind my shoulder as she got a hold of Coop, and Eli rounded the hood of the car.
He came up to me, reaching down to link his pinky with mine, then leading us toward the back of the house where there was a giant deck meant for entertainment, and sliding glass doors.
He didn't knock.
He didn't ring.
Hell, he didn't even pause.
I wondered if maybe he was worried he wouldn't be able to do it if he didn't just charge right in.
I squeezed his pinky as he pushed the door open, then stepped inside.
I lost his pinky, having to follow in behind him.
We stepped into a massive kitchen dominated by giant stainless steel appliances, an obscene amount of cabinets, and an island that would make Martha Stewart jealous.
The scents assaulted me all at once.
Turkey, stuffing, potatoes, broccoli, rolls.
Despite swearing I was too nauseated to eat, my stomach growled as I followed Eli as he went toward the incredibly loud sound of what had to be at least two dozen people down a hall where the walls were lined with collages I wanted to see, but was too worried to stop, following behind as he broke into the doorway, moving to the side to allow me to step in too.
"Oh, my God," Dusty managed to exhale even as her breath sucked in.
"No fucking way," one of the men said. Judging by the tallness, black hair, ice blue eyes, and perfect bone structure, one of his brothers.
All eyes turned, even kids who clearly didn't know what was going on.
But then one child stepped forward.
Well.
She wasn't a child at all, was she?
She was maybe eleven or twelve, tall, thin, black-haired, green-eyed, and almost unfairly pretty even so young.
Her lips parted as she looked at Eli.
And Eli, well, he looked gutted.
Eviscerated.
His insides were all sliding out.
Oh, God.
She must have been five or six when he went away.
From the looks of things, she was likely the only one who might remember him.
"Uncle Eli?" she asked, eyes just... devastated.
After her words left her lips, there was utter silence.
And then there was a click of heels as a woman came in from a doorway that must have led to the living room.
"Why is everyone standing around all quie..." she trailed off as she looked around.
She was gorgeous. Tall and lean, but with curves any woman would envy. She had sharp features, long black hair, and keen hazel eyes.
Eyes that landed on Eli.
And stayed.
It was a good couple of seconds of nothing before, surprisingly, it was Eli who broke the silence.
"Mom," he said, voice thick.
She almost staggered back a step before her heels clicked again as she charged across the room, stopping a foot or so in front of her long-lost son.
And then she cocked an arm back.
And slapped him across the face.
The crack was enough to make me start, my entire body stiffening, completely not understanding what was happening.
But not a second after the smack landed, the woman threw herself at her son, her entire body shaking as she sobbed silently.
His arms jerked, unsure for a second, before they raised, closing around the mother he hadn't seen in six years, and holding on tight.
I had to look away, quickly blinking the threat of tears out of my eyes. My gaze drifted over to Fee who was nestled against the chest of a man who looked just like Eli, but with a lot more tattoos. Her eyes were streaming, but she looked right at me and mouthed silently Thank you.
"Son," a deep male voice called, drawing my attention back to where Helen had pulled away, and was frantically swiping the tears off her face.
Eli's dad, Charlie, was a glimpse at what Eli - and all his brothers - would look like as they aged. Meaning, they would do so incredibly well. He was tall, square-shouldered, fit, with their same perfect, classically handsome bone structure, light eyes, and black hair. Except his had some streaks of gray and he had some lines by his mouth and eyes that somehow made him not look old, but rather, distinguished.
He clamped Eli on the shoulder, then used his shoulder to pull him in for a hug. Sure, it was a manly hug, but it was a hug nonetheless.
Helen's gaze moved from the men, looking right at me, giving me a nod. "This was you," she declared.
"No," I objected immediately. "No. Actually, Fee, Lea, Dusty, and Scotti came to me and--"
"No," she objected, shaking her head, giving me a small smile. "That wasn't what I meant. Though I do think you had a part in him being here as well. But this was you. You brought him back from the dead."
The words landed with impact, making me take a step back.
Where I plowed into Peyton.
When I swirled, I found her standing there, picking stuffing off a spoon.
"What?" she asked, big-eyeing me. "It was just sitting there, looking all warm and soft and delicious."
There were a few chuckles across the room.
Eli pulled away from his father, looking at me. "This is Autumn, for those of you who didn't go behind my back to meet her," he said, sending a pointed, but not unkind, look at Fiona.
"What? Psh, you can't claim to be how I know her. She introduced me to BOB years and years ago," she declared, making me smile.
"Who is Bob?" one of the kids asked, making everyone laugh.
"And this," he said, motioning toward Peyton who wasn't the least bit uncomfortable when all eyes fell on her, "stuffing thief here is Peyton, Autumn's sister."
"Where's the ugly cute dog?" a little girl asked, coming forward.
There was no mistaking it. She looked just like her older sister. She had the same black hair, green eyes, face, and frame, though she was maybe around nine.
And whatever lightness Peyton's appearance had brought about in Eli faded as his eyes fell on the girl who would have just been about three when he went away. Just a baby still, really.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple poking out with the effort. "He's probably trying to find some scraps in the kitchen, Izzy," he said, giving her a smile that was clearly strained.
The girl's brows knitted a little at the familiarity, but turned to grab the hand of a girl who was maybe five or six, but blonde-haired and blue-eyed, and started dragging her toward the living room doorway. "Come on, Mayla, let's find the dog."
The silence fell again, somehow even more oppressive than before.
"Uncle Eli?" the girl who had called to him before repeated, stepping another foot forward in her black leggings and heavy white cabled sweater.
Eli took a breath that was so deep it made his chest shake before he slowly let it out.
"You're really getting good at drawing, Becca," he said, giving her a small smile.
And she launched herself at him.
He actually went back a foot, clearly surprised. I guess maybe he had expected anger, or sadness, or maybe even complete disregard from her.
There seemed to be none of that as she clung to him, her feet dangling a few inches off the ground as his arms went around her, lifting her up slightly.
He was talking in a whisper to her, clearly wanting to keep the moment private, but I swore I heard him say, "I kept them all, Beccs. Every last one."
I had to turn away again, blinking.
"Autumn," a deep voice called at my side, making me start. I looked up to see anther replica of Eli, but this one was slightly older, very serious-looking, and wearing a very expensive-looking suit. "Thank you," he said, ducking his head a little. "From all of us, thank you."
"This is Ryan," Dusty said, moving in next to him, her hand, oddly, at her throat, like she was trying to rub away something there.
Ryan leaned down, kissing her temple, whispering Breathe to her.
"It's nice to meet you," I said, giving him a smile because I truly did mean that. I was happy to meet them all, to get to know the people that helped shape Eli into the man he had become.
I glanced over, seeing Fee and Hunt in a circle with Eli and Becca.
"Come on," Peyton said, linking her arm through mine, giving Ryan and Dusty a smile. "Let's go mingle while your man gets reacquainted. You know," she said loudly enough for all to hear, clearly trying to lighten the mood, "it is an absolute shame to be in a room with this many good-looking men when not one of them seems single. And who are you?" she asked, stopping in front of one of aforementioned good-looking men. This one, I was pretty sure, wasn't a Mallick. His coloring was off, his hair a little darker, his eyes brown, his bone structure, while drool-worthy, was different. If anything, oddly, he looked almost like a male version of Scotti.
"Kingston, honey," he said, giving her a warm, brotherly smile. "I'm Scotti's brother. And that," he said, waving out, happy to make introductions, "is Atlas. And there's Nixon. And, finally, over there, is Rush."
"Strange names," Peyton declared as one of the guys - Atlas - moved in closer.
"Yeah?" he asked, head ducked to the side as he looked at her. "Says the chick with a name associated with a mini skirt and nosy school board."
There was a pause, Peyton's eyes going wide. They didn't know it, but I did. That look was a rare one for her. She was impressed.
"Was that just a Harper Valley P.T.A. reference?"
His smile was charmed, happy, it was clear, that she got it. "Sure was."
"You're on your own," Peyton said, turning to me, slapping her spoon down in my hand, then linking her arm through Atlas' and leading him away.
"I like her," Fee declared, stepping in beside me. "She's got balls. And don't worry; there won't be any jealous woman brawls. Atlas is the only single one of Scotti's brothers."
My head swiveled, looking for Eli, finding him in a circle with his brothers, looking completely uncomfortable, his jaw tight, his stance stiff, but not quite freaking out.
"There was a little bit of drama that went down on his release day," Scotti explained, moving in next to her brother, watching the Mallick men. "No one could get in touch with him, and they were worried something might go down, and he would be unprepared."
I could feel my eyes rounding, my pulse starting to pound.
See, that was the weird thing.
I didn't get to see Eli being a loanshark, being a criminal, so even though I knew that was his past, I didn't exactly associate him with it. It was a bit, ah, sobering, to hear his past might have been coming back to bite him in the ass.
"Don't worry. It turned out that it was nothing, but they are likely just filling him in on all that drama," Scotti explained.
"He looks like he wants to bolt," Fiona observed.
"He's tense today," I agreed. "This was how he was when he first got out. He was rigid and guarded. Slowly, he's been letting that go. But when he woke up this morning, yeah, he was like this."
"He will adjust," Scotti said, voice hopeful.
He would.
That was true.
The biggest feat was getting him in the door.
"I honestly had no faith in you," Lea declared as she walked up, handing me a glass of red wine. "I don't mean to be offensive," she clarified. "It just seemed like such a pipe dream. But you did it," she said with a smile as she clinked her glass to mine.
"Actually, I didn't," I admitted. "I wasn't comfortable going behind his back, so that night, I told him what happened. And we didn't talk about it again."
"But you're here," Lea said, brows furrowed.
"I honestly don't know what the change was. He brought it up to me. This was all his choice. I didn't want to pressure him."
They nodded, seeming to understand, obviously not caring about the how so long as he was there.
"Is Becca okay?" Scotti asked.
Fee shrugged a shoulder. "She's too stubborn to admit it even if she was upset. She's with Helen in the kitchen getting the gravy ready."
"She looked broken up," Kingston observed.
"She was six when he went away," Fee agreed. "She asked me where Uncle Eli was every single time the family got together for over a year."
"I almost wish my guys had a recollection of him," Scotti started, then winced. "Is that bad to say?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I understand that. I'm sure he wishes he knew who, well," I paused, but there was no delicate way to phrase it, "any of the kids are."
"Poor Eli," Fee repeated the mantra of the day, exhaling hard. "This must be kind of disorienting after so long."
I was pretty sure that was a huge understatement.
"I can't believe Helen slapped him," Dusty said as she moved in, seeming a bit more relaxed than she had a moment before.
"Really?" Lea asked with a smirk. "She whacked Shane across the shoulders last Easter because he went to reach for the food before she finished serving. Broke the wooden spoon," she added with a smirk.
"So," Fee said, looking over at me. "What has Eli been doing? I mean, aside from you," she said with a smirk.
"And on that note, I'm out," Kingston declared, walking over toward a woman who was sitting on the floor playing with one of the kids.
"Um, mostly he's been working on his pieces for the show."
"Pieces? Show?" Lea asked, brows together.
Crap.
That really should have been his information to hand out.
He was so proud of himself for getting on his feet with his art.
And, judging by the few small non-gallery pieces he let me see, he had every right to feel amazing about himself. Even from the wonderful sketch he had done of me, he had come so far.
"Oh, ah, Eli has a wall at the gallery in a couple days."
"What?" they all asked in unison, eyes wide.
"You mean he finally did it?" Dusty asked. "He's been passionate about art all his life, but just never pursued it."
"He, ah, pursued it in prison. It was his, um, hustle while he was inside. He used his commissary money to buy art supplies, then did pieces for the other prisoners. For a profit. One of the guys liked him enough to drop his name at the gallery. When he got out, he went and showed them some pieces, and they wanted him on the spot. So, yeah, he's been working on his pieces for that since he's been out. And doing some renovations on his place."
"That's one thing about these Mallick men," Lea said with an appreciative smile, "they all know how to swing a hammer. It's obnoxiously hot."
Okay.
That was so true.
I mean I was always progressive about gender roles, and often dated men softer, sweeter, more clueless about plumbing than me. But I was sure there was something primal about seeing a man who could fix things. Like maybe we saw them as better protectors and providers or something.
I had totally jumped Eli one night after watching him lay flooring at his place. All those muscles clenching. The hint of sweat. The big strong hands. Oh, yeah. It was effective.
"Autumn," Eli's voice called, making me jump and turn on my low heel. "Come here for a sec," he asked, holding an arm out.
"Aw, he wants you to meet his brothers," Fee declared, smile going warm. "Go on. We'll discuss aphrodisiacs later."
I moved away from a group I was somewhat comfortable with and across the room to one I didn't know, aside from Ryan thanking me.
But then Eli's arm went around me, pulling me in close. I think, just as much for his comfort as mine, and all felt better in the world.
"You met Ryan," he said nodding his head toward him. "This is Hunt, Fee's husband. And that is Shane, Lea's. And finally, Mark, Scotti's husband."
"It's nice to meet all of you. I'd say I've heard a lot, but that would be a lie," I admitted, and I could feel Eli silently chuckle as he gave me a squeeze.
"So you're the one who stole Coop," the big one - Shane - accused, smirk toying with his lips. "Know how many animals shelters I've trolled these past six years?"
"No one put up any fliers!" I accused, big-eyeing them.
"No one had any pictures," Shane said with a shrug. "Though Hunt did draw some shit up, but I dunno. Guess they never crossed your path."
"He's had a good life eating shoes and destroying copies of Die Muthafucka," Eli supplied, giving me a knowing smile. He had totally hunkered down, went searching, and tracked down a signed copy of the book for Peyton that he planned to give her for Christmas.
Because he was thinking that far ahead.
About her, so therefore about me.
My heart squeezed every time I thought about that.
And maybe I wondered what he was going to get me.
"And I got updates."
Oh, shit.
I felt myself stiffen, not knowing why he would bring that up. Things were going smoothly. That was a huge bump in the road.
"Updates on what?" Mark asked.
"Coop. How he was doing."
There was a strained silence as that sank in. "You took her letters while you were inside?" Ryan asked, jaw tight.
"The first one because I had no fucking idea who she was," he admitted, obviously just wanting to clear the air. "She told me she had Coop and that he was okay. Then there were other letters after that."
You could feel it vibrating off the men around us, an uncomfortable throbbing anger they were all desperately trying to keep under control. Because they had him back, and they didn't want to push him away.
But he had refused their letters for six years, while receiving those of a woman he didn't know from Eve.
There was a sinking in my belly at that, at the clear hurt in Mark's eyes, in the clenched fists of Shane's hands.
"Autumn!" a voice called, making me start. I looked over my shoulder to find Helen standing in the doorway. "Want to come in the kitchen and help out?"
"By that she means she is going to give you the third degree," Eli supplied. "But don't worry. The fact that you own a sex store really works in your favor. Plus, she has the wine refills. You'll be fine," he assured me, kissing my temple, then pulling his arm from around me so I could follow Helen to where she disappeared into the kitchen.
My stomach knotted as I looked around for my sister, thinking a buffer would be ideal. I found her in a corner having what seemed to be a good-natured, but heated argument with Atlas. Sensing my eyes, she looked over, but gave my desperate look a shrug. She wasn't going to save me.
With that, I left the room, taking a deep breath, reminding myself that wine refills would certainly help soften the social discomfort.
"No, I'm just saying, you guys all need to get a Wand," I walked into Fee declaring to them all, brandishing a slotted spoon, half-turned away from the stove.
"Fee," Helen said, smile wicked. "Those first went into production in the sixties. I've had one since before you were even born."
"Oh, shit!" Lea said, smiling huge. "Your mother-in-law just schooled you in sex toys. How embarrassing for you."
"Says the woman who didn't even own a vibrator before I took her to go pick one out. I mean how did you survive for so long without your own personal Buzz Nightgear?"
I had been taking a sip of my wine, and almost got reminded how unpleasant it was for it to come out of your nose I snorted so loud.
"I was in a spell of celibacy!" Lea insisted, rolling her eyes.
"With a hair chastity belt to boot," Fee agreed, smiling. "Grew that shit out like Rapunzel."
"Oh my God, Fee," Dusty whisper-hissed at her, eyes big. "Autumn doesn't know you're joking."
"I'm not joking," Fee clarified. "She thought if she gave up shaving, it would keep her from falling into bed with the wrong type of man. A for effort though, right, Lea?" she asked, giving Lea a fake-angry look because Lea was giving her one first.
"I would tell you they're not always like this," Scotti said, moving in beside me, already refilling my wine glass. "But they're always like this. On Easter, Fee used the term 'invagination' at the dinner table."
"It was the dessert table and the kids were in the other room trading egg goodies. Geez!"
Helen looked over at me as I smiled between them, liking the ease with which they discussed things, enjoying the openness, it reminding me of my sister and me. "Welcome to the family, Autumn," she told me. "Better to jump on the bandwagon now, or they will get you drunk and make you admit things like they did with Dusty."
"You make us sound like monsters," Fee objected. "We got her drunk on her birthday where she just so happened to admit to doing some midnight jackhammering during her shut-in days."
"Oh, my God," Dusty whimpered, closing her eyes, her cheeks heating, but she was smiling.
Feeling for her, knowing some people - no matter how open with sex they were with their partners - just couldn't discuss it in mixed company, I decided to jump in. "You know what one is worth a try?" I asked, watching as their eyes went to me. "The butterfly. Hands-free," I added. "It straps on. Especially if you get the one with the G-spo..." I trailed off as a pretty little toddler came swaying in.
Fee gave me a smile. "Know your audience," she advised. "Three and under, you can pretty much get away with saying anything you want. Three and a half and up, they start repeating stuff and asking questions."
"Like when Mayla blared out over Sunday dinner that a man at mommy's work must have been really bad because he got a spanking."
I laughed at that.
"She's leaving out the part that the man in question is this super alpha asshole coach at Becca's school who is a secret submissive."
"I think I know exactly who you're talking about," I chimed in, smiling. "He comes into the shop with a coach shirt on, always being a complete asshole unless I bark at him to take his attitude somewhere else. Then he's like an obedient little puppy."
"Alright, I hear the alcohol is in here," Peyton's voice declared. "What?" she asked, looking at the bemused faces of all the women. "What were we talking about?" she finished as she took my wine out of my hands.
"Submissive men," Lea supplied.
"Who like getting spanked," Fee finished.
"Who doesn't like getting spanked?" she asked, casual as could be, not a worry in the world. You had to respect that about her. She genuinely did not give a fuck.
"She makes a good point," Fee agreed, turning back to the stove to stir whatever was in the pot.
"Scotti, your brother is yummy, but his taste in movies is absolutely abysmal. So, obviously, we're over. I apologize in advance for his broken heart."
"You know," Scotti said, watching Peyton with a look I didn't quite understand, "I totally believe that that is possible."
"So, Autumn owns a sex store and steals dogs," Helen declared, smirking. "What do you do, Peyton?"
"I scare little old ladies from behind the desk at the library. And read a lot of twisted horror porn," she admitted openly, clearly charming Helen who - as I was starting to see - was nothing like your usual mom. I guessed when you raised five loansharking sons while married to their loansharking father, that kind of went with the territory.
"Well, you guys seem like you will fit right in," Helen declared, holding out two bowls. "Now get to filling so we can eat."
With that, we did.
I had never seen so much food in my life. Endless platters left that kitchen to fill the chafing dishes that ran along the sideboards from one end of the room to another. There was turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato fries, green bean casserole, broccoli, corn, balsamic glazed carrots, peppers, onions, and zucchini, cranberry sauce that was clearly made from scratch, and three different kinds of rolls.
They were going to have to wheelbarrow me out of the damn house.
"Coop!" Charlie snapped, getting the dog's attention from where he was whining at the kids' table. To everyone's - especially my - surprise, Coop jumped up, ran over, and laid down at the man's side, silent for the entire meal before Charlie patted his head and declared, "Alright, go ahead." And he nearly toppled two kids to dive under the table and clean up the mess the kids had made of the floor.
Over dinner, conversation had been kept light - mostly thanks to Fee, Mark, Peyton, and Rush, with everyone else simply piling onto their conversation starters, keeping everything upbeat and easy, something that had Eli relaxing in his seat beside me.
Once he finished eating, his hand went under the table to give my knee a reassuring squeeze.
"Alright," Kingston said after a couple minutes of after-dinner talk. "We got the clean-up," he declared, sending his brothers and sister a hard look that had them all moving to stand.
"King, that's not..." Helen started.
"Have some family time, Helen," he demanded, voice soft, eyes wise, as he started collecting plates.
With that, the Mallick clan, sans the Rivers clan and their women, got up and moved to the living room which was decidedly smaller than the enormous dining room, but still a good two times the size of the average living space with a long gray sectional, a few accent chairs, and a collage of pictures lining one whole wall.
Squished, I took a page out of Lea's book and sat up on the arm of the couch beside Eli as the kids came barreling in and out, making conversation a bit more of a concept than an actuality.
I had never seen thirteen children all in one space before. And while Becca was more on her way to adult than child, her playing mom to the littler ones was creating just as much noise as the four, five, and six-year-olds.
It wasn't until a good fifteen minutes later, much of the cleaning clatter in the kitchen dying down, that a three-year-old came walking in, calm, quiet, looking around.
He, well, looked like a Mallick with his short black hair and light blue eyes. But as he got closer, you could actually see an odd hint of brown flecks in his eyes as well. If I had to bet, I would put money on him being Mark and Scotti's. There was just something in those eyes that looked like the Rivers brothers (and sister).
Any conversation that had been going on halted immediately as he locked eyes on Eli, then confidently made his way over, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He climbed up in the small space between Eli and Helen who was seated next to him, then went right ahead and sat down on his leg, watching him with those unique eyes.
"I'm Eli," he said with a firm nod, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Eli.
My heart seized in my chest, every inch of me going tight.
This was what I was sure he was dreading.
The adults were one thing, adults who had him for thirty some-odd years.
The kids, these kids who had no idea who he was, that was what he was dreading.
The questions.
The lack of recognition.
"Hey Eli," Eli said, voice thick, giving him a smile that was clear was pained.
And then the adorable, innocent little thing did it.
He gutted him.
"Who are you?"
I felt a knife to my own gut, could see the same pain on everyone else's faces. I couldn't even imagine how he was feeling.
My gaze found his, his eyes glassy. He half-turned away, more toward his mother, his hand raising, pressing into his eyes, struggling to keep it together.
"Little Eli," Becca's confident voice called, old enough to be able to sense when the adults needed a minute, good enough to be willing to step in and give them it. "Come here."
Little Eli hopped off his uncle's lap and ran over to her. "I'm not little," he declared, voice firm as she led him out of the room.
"It's okay," Helen said, her arms going around Eli. His forehead fell forward into her shoulder, his body shaking as he sucked in a breath. "I know," she said, kissing the side of his head. "I know."
I had to look away, reaching up to swipe tears off my cheeks.
When I looked up, everyone else was similarly affected, the women turned into their men's shoulders, men who were barely keeping it together themselves.
Hell, even Peyton as she stepped in and saw the scene - having been helping with the clean-up - looked taken aback. If there was one thing I knew for sure about Peyton, it was that she was a hard nut to crack. I didn't remember the last time I had seen her cry. It might have actually been when we were kids. She quipped when I was getting the, as she called it, 'waterworks,' that she had sold her tear ducts on the black market to finance the upkeep of her amazing hair.
So seeing her eyes go wide then glisten slightly was another knife to the gut.
Sensing my inspection, her gaze found mine and her eyes went horrified.
Oh, fuck no, she mouthed before turning on her heel and disappearing.
When I looked back, Eli's breathing looked even, and his mother was whispering something between the two of them into his ear as she stroked his hair slightly.
Whatever it was she was saying seemed to help him bring his composure back.
A moment later, he took a deep breath and pulled away.
Her hands cradled his face.
"Now fuck your parole. Go get a drink. It looks like Autumn needs a refill too," she added, making me start and immediately jump up.
I knew a mom-command when I heard one.
And even though she wasn't actually my mother, I felt compelled to do exactly what she said.
"Yeah, I'm empty," I said with a smile I hoped met my eyes as Eli's head turned in my direction.
He gave me a smile that must have matched my own, and, yeah, it totally didn't reach. "Can't have that," he agreed, standing, and moving toward me, putting an arm around my hips and leading me out of the room.
But not toward the kitchen where the booze was. No, he led me out toward the front of the house, setting my glass away, grabbing some random jacket off a hook, and pulling me outside with him. He didn't stop pulling until he was leaning up against the back of my car, reaching to pull my front to face his, then draping the jacket across my back, using the sides to pull me against his body.
His arms went around my center, his face in my neck.
There wasn't even a hint of hesitation before my arms went around him, holding on as tight as he was holding me.
"This is even harder than I expected," he admitted, voice rough, raw - a half-healed wound ripped open.
Having no words, no comfort other than my presence, my listening ear, I just squeezed him tighter, and let him drain it out.
"He has my fucking name, and he doesn't know who I am."
Oh, God.
I needed to keep it under control. I was supposed to be the one comforting him; I couldn't bring on the tears again.
"He will know you, Eli. He's so little. Most of his childhood memories will have you in them."
"And Becca?" he asked, voice barely more than a choked whisper. "And Izzy? They're closer to teens than kids. Izzy wouldn't even come close to me."
That was, unfortunately, true.
Most of the kids had kept a bit of a wide birth around me, Eli, and Peyton, all of us being strangers to them.
"Becca remembered you," I tried.
He swallowed hard, pressing his face into my neck. "She told me she thought I didn't love her anymore, Autumn." Oh, hell. Okay. There was no way to stop a few tears. "Since I never responded to any of her letters. I did that. I ripped away the comfort that she should have had in knowing that her whole family loved and supported and appreciated her. I made a part of her, maybe only a small part, but a part of her perfect little self think that there was even a chance that she was unlovable. I fucking did that."
"You did what you thought was best," I tried, hearing the thickness in my voice, trying to breathe through it, get control over myself.
"And I fucked everything up," he growled, voice getting an edge that had me stiffening.
Angry.
At himself, sure.
But still angry.
And because I knew him, I knew that the last thing he would want was to lose it at his first family gathering in six years, a gathering he had convinced himself would never happen.
My hands slid down his tense arms to curl around the fists he had curled behind my back. "Hey," I said, pulling back slightly so I could look at him. "Don't do this."
"Do what? Say the truth?" he asked, a mix of broken and pissed, a combination that would not be good in another minute or two. "All I have done since I walked down that street that night was fucking wrong. I have fucked everything up with every choice I have made."
"You don't believe that--"
"I haven't--"
"No," I cut him off. "I'm talking," I clarified, pleased when he looked taken aback for a second, the new emotion wiping a bit of the anger away. "You don't believe that what you did that night was wrong. In fact, not a single person in the world - including the asshole you beat up - thinks what you did was wrong. You did the right thing for the right reasons and got the wrong judgment in court."
"I beat a man half to death, Autumn. The judgment wasn't wrong. I did do that."
He wasn't wrong, and I was having a hard time coming up with a rebuttal, but I wanted to keep him talking. His body was relaxing with every word.
"You're talking about it like you walked up to some random innocent and beat him. You stopped a bully from possibly killing a woman he was supposed to honor and cherish. He should have gone away for that. In lieu of that, you should have been up on charges that were thrown away given the situation. It was a miscarriage of justice from the second that battered woman was allowed to be taken away by the very people who allowed her abuser to keep hurting her. You did the right thing in trying to protect her."
"You don't have to raise your voice, sweetheart," he said, making me realize that I had almost been yelling. I wasn't the best with strong emotions, and they had a tendency to burst out of me in almost manic explosions of feeling. "I'm listening," he added.
"I can't imagine what it felt like when you realized you were going to lose six years of your life, Eli. I, I just... I can't fathom that. But because I can't even wrap my head around it, I know - not think - know that whatever decision you needed to make to be able to survive those six years was the right decision. There are consequences to every choice we make, good and bad, you just have to deal with them as they come. You're here now, Eli. You can make amends. You can spend the next forty years showing Becca just how perfect she is, how lovable. You can meet all those kids and show them how awesome their Uncle Eli is. You can mend bonds with your brothers, sisters-in-law, and parents. You have that chance. But you aren't going to accomplish that by being out here bitching about a choice that didn't go the way you planned."
There.
That about covered it.
I felt like I was shaking, knowing some of the things were a bit aggressive, worried it would drive a wedge, but knowing down to my marrow that he needed to hear it regardless.
When I finished though, he didn't seem mad or upset.
Instead, he was watching me like I had sprouted another head and it started singing in Swahili.
He looked at me like I confused him.
Then, slowly, his lips twitched, then tugged upward into a smile. "I've had my ass handed to me a lot in my life," he started oddly. "My mom used to whoop it when I stepped out of line. My brothers did it just to fuck with me. It came with the job as I aged up. But I've never had my ass handed to me verbally before. That's quite a hook you got there, sweetheart."
"Well," I said, feeling oddly confused and proud at the same time, "you were losing your shit. You needed your ass kicked a little."
"Guess I did," he agreed, smiling fully. "Thank you."
"Hey, if ever you need an ass-kicking, you know where to find me," I said, trying to keep things light, especially because there was something deep in his eyes that I couldn't place, and therefore felt worried about.
"Good to know. You can verbally whoop mine," he agreed, eyes going molten, "and I can physically whoop yours from time to time."
This was not a good time - or place - to be getting completely turned on, but it was totally happening anyway.
"Don't tease me," I said, leaning into his chest.
"Not teasing," he said, hand sliding out from under the jacket to go to the back of my neck, sliding into my hair, and pulling to make my head angle up. The pain seemed to spread from my scalp and shoot right between my legs. "We're going back to my place tonight so we don't have to worry about traumatizing your sister."
"Right," I said with a grin, "because she's such a shrinking violet."
"Might have to stop at your store for some goodies though," he added, eyes full of promise, making an almost intolerable pressure press into my lower stomach.
"You!" Peyton's voice called, making me jolt backward a step, the jacket started to fall, making me reach for it to pull it back up as she walked up, pointing at Eli.
"Me?" Eli asked, leaning back against the car, smirking at her.
"Yes, you!" she hissed.
"What'd I do?"
"You made me feel things, you monster," she declared, crossing her arms, small-eyeing him.
To that, he threw his head back and laughed a little. "Can't be having that, can we?"
"No," she agreed, shaking her head in exasperation, "we absolutely can not."
Eli reached out, dragging a very stiff Peyton in for a hug. "Don't fucking change, Peyton."
"Why would I?" she asked, trying to pull off unaffected, but I knew my sister, and she was totally having a moment. "There's no improving on this," she added, even as her hands went up and gave him a quick, tentative hug back. "Okay, you big sap. Let me go," she added a moment later, pulling away. "What? You're not getting enough affection from this one?" she asked, waving a hand at me. "She's like a clinging vine for chrissakes."
I totally had to force affection on her from time to time. Mostly because I felt like she needed it, no matter how much she denied it.
With that, though, she turned on her heel and started toward the house.
"Also, we're having dessert. And it looks like you guys will need to cut my fat ass out of the wall and take me out with a crane."
"Some day," Eli said, shaking his head at her, "some guy is going to come around and throw an entire Home Depot department full of wrenches in her works."
"Won't that be awesome to watch?" I agreed, moving in when he held out an arm for me to step into.
"Thank you," he told me a second later, pressing a kiss into my temple.
"For her? I don't think you've woken up to her standing in a corner with a knife yet. You might not be thanking me then."
He chuckled at that, giving me a squeeze.
"Yeah, for her. For you. For this. For taking that hollow shell I was when I got out, and steadily filling me back up."
Oh, my poor heart.
I couldn't take any more of the up and down.
But thank God we were ending the conversation on such an up.
I filled him up.
That might have been the best compliment I had ever received.
"You're very welcome," I said, meaning it. "I really love your family."
"They'll be happy to adopt you. It seems like Ma just keeps building a longer table."
"Well, that's good. Because I don't think Peyton will ever give them up. She follows her stomach. She swears the only time she's ever been in love was with the absolutely perfect cheesy lasagne we got once at a restaurant that went out of business a week after she had it."
"We better go help her eat the dessert so she doesn't bitch the whole way home about how much we let her eat."
She would totally do that, too.
We walked into the dining room, making our choices.
Eli stopped on the way back to the table, going by habit toward his mother, but stopping, and moving to sit down next to Little Eli instead.
"That's a nice truck," he said as I stood watching, my breath caught in my chest.
"It has a backseat," Little Eli declared, holding up the bright blue pickup.
"I see that. I have a truck just like that. With a backseat."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he agreed as Mark walked over to sit down on Little Eli's other side. "Maybe one day your daddy can bring you over, and we can take a ride in it."
"To the beach?" he asked, perking up immediately.
"Anywhere you want," Eli agreed, giving him a smile. "And my name is Eli, by the way."
"That's my name!" Little Eli declared.
"You stole it from me," Eli agreed.
Little Eli looked at his father. "Did you?"
"Sure did," Mark agreed. "I thought Eli was pretty cool, so I thought you'd like to have the name of someone cool."
"He has a truck!" Little Eli declared, adorably oblivious to how big the moment was.
"I have a truck too," Mark insisted.
"He has a red truck."
Eli and I laughed at that, knowing his truck was not, in fact, red, and that hopefully Little Eli didn't have his heart set on that.
"I owe you," a deep, smooth male voice said as he moved to stand beside me, watching Eli zoom zoom with Little Eli's truck, plowing right through the kid's slice of cheesecake, an action that the little guy found hilarious.
Charlie Mallick.
There was something intimidating in him, something that spoke of his past, something in the way he carried himself. But I had seen him throw a little girl up in the air until his arms must have felt like Jell-O. Being a grandparent had obviously softened him.
"No, you don't," I objected, shaking my head. "Believe me, I wanted this too. He needed this so badly."
Oh, crap.
I was getting all misty-eyed again.
What was wrong with me?
"There isn't a doubt in my mind, hon, that we never would have seen him at our table again if not for you. He told his brother that he was dead just a couple weeks ago. You brought him back to life. I owe you. From what I hear, you have your life on track. You don't have need for anything I could usually offer. But I can offer you this," he said, waving his hand out toward the room as a whole.
Oh, Jesus, with the waterworks.
Peyton was never going to let me live all this crying down.
But, the fact of the matter was, family was nice.
I had always had Peyton, and she meant the world to me, but I never really had a chance to experience a fun, loving, supportive family. Just getting a couple hours in one made me want more.
And Charlie was offering it to me.
It was one thing when it was just acceptance, just the fact that you had to have a place at your table for your child's spouse. It was a complete other to welcome them with open arms.
Sensing my tears even though my head was ducked, Charlie's arm went around my lower back, pulling me close enough to kiss my temple. "Welcome to the family, Autumn."
Eli chose that exact moment to look over.
And his eyes went heavy with feeling, seeming to understand exactly what was happening.
"Bitch, get it together," Peyton declared as she moved into the spot Charlie vacated. "Or drown it in chocolate cake. You're embarrassing the family," she declared in a dead-on mobster impression, hand motions and all.
But I was still being a sap.
"I think this is our new family, Peyton."
She thought on that, looking around, then gave me a nod.
"Fine, then you're just being a sap. Ovary-up, woman! Oh, is that an apple danish?" she asked, making a bee-line for the pile.
"I think she was serious about the crane thing," Eli told me, walking right up, and pulling me to him.
"She doesn't do much by half," I agreed.
"Pops just welcomed you to the family, didn't he?"
I felt like this was shaky ground.
What if Eli wasn't at that place yet, and his father was overstepping?
"Ah, kinda," I admitted, because it was true.
His arms folded around my back, pulling my hips to his.
"Honey, wait till you see Christmas."
And, well, I maybe sorta kinda totally lit the heck up.
I was part of the family.
Maybe, possibly, someday, I might actually be a Mallick myself.