Soulless (Lawless #2)(48)
“Maybe Bear gave it to her, but then why would it be in her cabinet taped to the back of a dish?” I asked.
“There is no way. Grace would have no reason to hide that. She loved pictures almost as much as she loved rabbits. If this was a picture he’d given to her it would have been in a frame displayed next to a rabbit somewhere,” Ray said, turning the picture over in her hands.
“But then why?”
Ray shook her head. “I have no idea, but whatever it is it’s making my brain hurt,” she said, rubbing her temples. She reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out her phone, snapping a picture of the Polaroid. “Put this in your pocket,” she said, handing the photo back to me. “I have a feeling that the boys don’t know anything about it either. I’m not going to call now and take them out of their pow-wow, so we will have to wait until tonight to show it to them. Grace wasn’t one to keep secrets. Her policy was always about honesty, which is why this is all so confusing.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so either, but it pains me to have to wait until later. My curiosity is on a level ten right now,” I admitted. Patience was never a strong suit of mine. Six months waiting for Bear didn’t help that.
“Mine too.” Ray stood up again, grabbing another empty box from the pile by the front door. “Although I think I may have to wait even longer to talk to King because lately he won’t let me get a word out before trying to impregnate me again. Chances are slim to none for meaningful conversation before he accomplishes that mission. He’s been knee deep in baby fever ever since Nicole-Grace was born.” There was a slight annoyance in her tone, but it sounded forced. “It’s like he’s not going to be happy until we have to build another house for all these kids, and I’d really like to at least have a wedding before he goes through with his plan of using my uterus as a clown car. Or better yet, turn twenty-one. That would be cool.”
I wagged my eyebrows. “Yet, I get the sense that you don’t really mind his methods all that much,” I said, pressing my lips together and trying not to laugh.
“No. His methods.” She sighed dreamily. “His methods are goooooood.” Ray looked at me straight faced before bursting out into laughter. “He has this way of making me give in to him, no matter what. He could ask me to do anything short of nuking a third world country and I’d be all, ‘mmmmm-kay.’ Makes me feel like an idiot.” Ray shook her head and used the corner of the box in her arms to point at me. “But hey! At least King wears shirts! I don’t know how you ever get anything accomplished around Bear. If King never wore a shirt, I’d stand less of a chance than I already do. I’d be in that house giving birth like the old lady who lived in a shoe,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “On that note, I think I’ll go back and pack another box of bunnies.” She disappeared down the hall.
I took one last look at the baby in the picture before putting it in my pocket. I went back to the business of packing away Grace’s life. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t keep my mind off the photo or what it meant.
Grace may have kept a lot of rabbits in her house, but that day I found out that she was also keeping something else.
Secrets.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Bear
The last time King and I locked ourselves in a room and got f*cked up for days was when Preppy died.
This time may have been for Grace but we had every intention of following through with the f*cked-up part again.
“I don’t know how the f*ck you expect me to cover that entire thing,” King said, blowing out the smoke he was holding and passing me the joint. He ran his fingertips over my biggest Bastard tattoo on my shoulder and scratched his head.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re good at this shit. You covered up Ray’s scar and you did that piece on Abby’s back. Get on it man. Don’t let me down,” I said, taking a hit.
“Do you even know what you’re gonna wanna cover it up with?” King asked, pulling at the skin on my shoulder like it would somehow change the tattoo into something he could work with.
“No and I don’t care. Fucking surprise me. Anything but a big dildo or a portrait of the f*cking queen of England would be fine with me as long as this bullshit is gone,” I said.
King nodded, leaning in closer to again examine the largest of my Beach Bastards tattoos on my shoulder.
“All right, f*cker” he said, leaning back. “I’ll come up with something.”
“Good, now do this.” I pointed to the much smaller sketch I’d just had him draw.
“Do I look like your bitch?”
I shrugged. “No, but you’re my tattoo bitch.”
“Call me that again and you might get that dildo after all.” King opened drawers in his toolbox and started pulling out his gloves, ink, and other equipment.
“Bad Habit,” by The Offspring was blaring through the speakers in the ceiling. As I waited for King to start, my eyes landed on something I hadn’t seen in a long time. “Fuck, I can’t believe you still f*cking have that,” I said, pointing to the plastic hog head on the wall. “And I can’t believe you actually hung it up.”
King looked to where I was pointing and laughed, taking a long pull from the bottle of whiskey before setting it on the floor snapping on his black gloves. “I found it in the attic. Ray begged me not to hang it up until I told her the story behind it. Now it’s her favorite thing in here.” King adjusted the height of his stool and rolled back over to the table I was sitting on. “They say you have to pick your battles,” he said, looking back up at the hog’s head. I’m glad I actually won one for a change.