Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Parrish

Iwas still trying to wrap my head around the day’s strange turn of events. Everything I had learned was fucked up and pissed me off and a hundred other emotions I was trying to sort through. And now I was going to have dinner with them, something I should have said no to but hadn’t.

“What are we making?” I asked Betsy when we got inside. It was a smallish, old farmhouse Betsy and her husband had built. He’d passed away a couple of years afterward, before Riven had moved in with her. It was clean and homey in a way my dad’s place had never been. When we were kids, it had always been me who took care of that stuff. It wasn’t as if Dad or Rex would have, and I knew they would wait around until I did it, so I’d started by trying to keep up on the cleaning. When I was younger, I used to tell myself that it had been different before my mom died, that she would have done all the things other people’s moms did, that she would have made sure we were taken care of, but that was wishful thinking. She and my dad had been too much alike.

“My famous fried chicken. Riven loves it.” She gave Riven a smile that was full of so much damn love. He had his arms crossed, visibly grumbling over me being there, but he couldn’t help returning her grin.

He loved her more than anything, that much was clear. It was the exact reason my family had used her to manipulate him.

Just the thought made my gut twist uncomfortably. I wanted to kill them myself.

“He’s not much of a cook,” Betsy added.

“I didn’t do much of it in prison.”

She waved him off. “You weren’t much of a cook before that either. It’s not an excuse.”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll have to teach him how,” I said, which was stupid. What happened today hadn’t made Riven and me friends. He didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t blame him. Why would he believe anyone in my family? But I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Not after what he’d been through because of them.

“No, thanks,” Riven replied just as Betsy said, “That’s a damn good idea.”

“Grandma!” He sounded like an angry teenager.

“What? You need friends. Parrish is a good choice. He’s never been in trouble like that brother of his—or that father of his.” She gave Riven a pointed glance. “Or you.”

My gut tightened, reminding me that Betsy still thought her grandson had accidentally killed someone. Pain flashed in Riven’s expression before he schooled it quickly.

Betsy said, “I don’t hold the past against you. I know you hate what happened. I know you didn’t mean for it to go down that way, and I know you’re on the right track now, but that doesn’t change the past.” She looked at me. “I’m so proud of him. My Riven is a good man. He got tangled up with the wrong people, but all that has changed now.”

“I’m not perfect either,” I said in Riven’s defense. I had to say something, otherwise I would end up spilling the truth. He was right, though. Betsy wouldn’t keep quiet if she knew the truth, and it would be dangerous for her. “I’ve done my fair share of things right along with Rex and my dad. No one forced me to do them. It was all me. I was just lucky and didn’t get caught.”

“You’re both good boys. That’s why I think you would be good friends.” She faced her grandson again. “Parrish used to check on me when you were incarcerated. He’d come by to help with yard work, see if I needed anything from the grocery store and things like that.”

“It was the right thing to do,” I replied, refusing to look at Riven but feeling his hot stare on me. “This property is a lot to take care of, and people weren’t real nice at first.”

“People were mean to you because of what I did?”

I risked a glance in his direction, seeing muscles strain in his neck.

“It wasn’t bad. Just a lot of stares mostly, this being such a small town and all. Jerry’s family was still around back then, and they wanted to forget he was the one who hit you first, that you were just defending yourself. I always made sure to remind them.”

“Fuck that. You shouldn’t have had to do that.” Riven was practically vibrating with anger.

Betsy went over to him, ran her hand up and down his arm. “Like I said, we can’t control the past, so there’s no reason to spend so much time living in it. People are always looking for someone to blame. It’s a whole lot easier than looking in the mirror. I dealt with it, and now it’s over. Don’t keep living in that angry place, Riv. You’re better than that.”

I couldn’t help wondering if people gave Riven shit since he’d gotten out, but then, I had a feeling that outside of work, he spent all his time at home.

He nodded, his head turning slightly toward me. Am I a good man? the look in his eyes asked. But the question was not for me—it was for himself, and I didn’t think Riven would choose the right answer. He hadn’t deserved what happened to him.

“Your grandma is a smart lady.”

He scowled at me, his eyebrows bunching up beneath the snapback of his hat. It was cuter than it should have been. I’d never in my life seen Riven as cute. Hot? Sexy? All those things, yes, but not cute like he was while standing there with his grandma, who was two heads shorter than him, and giving me his best grumpy face.

“Are we cooking or what?” Riven asked, surprising me with his offer to help.

Betsy’s face transformed into what I could only describe as pure joy.

“Yes, we are. No sharing my secret ingredients.” She pointed to us.

The chicken was already on the counter. Betsy pulled out flour, cayenne pepper, and a few other ingredients for the breading. She added enough oil to her cast-iron skillet to give us a heart attack, letting it heat while she explained her tricks for the perfect fried chicken.

“Parrish, will you get the eggs and milk out of the fridge?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She mixed them together, beating them well before picking up one of the chicken breasts, dipping it in the mixture, then the breading, and setting it in the snapping skillet.

“I buy a whole chicken and cut it up. That might not sound like it makes a difference, but it does,” she explained cheerfully. “Why don’t the two of you get the veggies out of the fridge and cut them for a salad?”

Riven side-eyed me, clearly still not happy I was there, but I just gave him a grin. We washed our hands, and then Riven got everything we needed. Betsy rambled on the whole time we cooked. She barely paused for breath, and I wondered how someone who talked so much could be related to someone like Riven, who hardly said anything other than the word fuck. Even when we were younger, he was quieter than Rex. It was worse since he’d been out, though.

Betsy put potatoes into the microwave to bake, and before I knew it, the three of us were sitting at her small kitchen table, plates filled, and eating.

“How has work been going? Riven has always been good with his hands.” Betsy took a bite of her potato while I tried to keep my mind out of the gutter, thinking about all the good things Riven could do with his hands and my body. How close we’d gotten earlier didn’t help my lifelong crush on him. I’d gone from wanting him to hating him, and had quickly slipped back into wanting to do dirty things with Riven McKenna.

“It’s going well. He’s good out there. Gets more done most days than Wayne and Smitty combined. They’re good guys, but Riven has a one-track mind. Half the time he doesn’t even stop to eat lunch.”

“Well, that’s not good. He needs to eat. Make sure he eats, Parrish.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Will the two of you quit talking about me like I’m not here? I can take care of myself. I don’t need Parrish doing it for me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with leaning on people. You have a big heart. You want to take care of yourself and everyone else, but you won’t let anyone take care of you.” She pointed her fork at him.

“That’s not true. I don’t give a shit about anyone but you. There’s no one else I want to take care of.”

Betsy reached over and cupped his cheek. “You’ve always carried around so much anger. I hate that for you. I just want you to be happy. I want to see you smile.”

Damned if I didn’t want to see Riven smile too. She was right. He’d always been pissed at the world, but not in the same way as Rex or my dad. They thought the world owed them something. I thought Riven was upset because he felt so damn alone in it, like there wasn’t anything he could do to change it.

“I smile plenty.”

A laugh jumped out of my mouth, and Riven turned his perma-scowl on me. “No one asked you.”

His response only made me laugh harder. Seconds later, Betsy joined in, both of us cackling, while Riven shook his head, mumbled beneath his breath, and maybe, just maybe tried to bite back a grin.

We finished eating without giving Riven too much more of a hard time. Afterward, he and I insisted on doing the dishes. He tried to do them without me, but I wasn’t having that.

“I think I’m going to do some of my knitting. I’m old and go to bed early, so I’ll let you boys get back to whatever it was you were doing before.”

Riven hugged her, and damned if Betsy didn’t wink at me over his shoulder. That was…strange. Did she know Riv was bi?

“Lock the doors, okay?” Riven told her.

“I’ve never had to lock the doors my whole life.”

“I know. Do it for me. I get nervous after seeing some of the stuff I saw inside.”

It was a lie, of course. I was sure he’d seen and heard stuff I couldn’t imagine, but he was worried about my family and what they might do to her.

The second we were back outside, he said, “You can leave now.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Damn it, Parrish. I’m not looking for a friend, and if I were, it sure as shit wouldn’t be you. What just happened in there isn’t going to happen again.” He stormed into his room, and I followed, not sure why I was pushing this so much.

When I got inside, Riven had his back to me, shoulders set in stone. I closed the door softly. “Stubborn, fucking hothead,” I tried to tease, but he didn’t respond. At least not right away, and not in the way I had expected him too.

“You checked on her,” he finally said. “You came here and helped her, made sure she was okay. Why would you do that?”

I shrugged, words slow to form in my head. “Because Betsy had always been nice to me. Because she was a kind woman who’d just seen her only grandson, the man she thought the sun rose and set on, get sent to prison. Because it was the right thing to do.”

Riven turned around. “How are you related to them?”

“No one gets to decide who I am other than me, just like no one gets to decide who you are other than you.”

“That’s not true. People out there don’t let it be true.”

“People out there can suck my fucking cock because they don’t matter.” Which was true, but also not. How people saw you and who they decided you were, affected a whole lot of things in your life—how you were treated, jobs you could get, the kind of attention you drew, how easy or hard it was to get ahead or just make ends meet. But that didn’t mean we had to go quietly and couldn’t fight like hell for ourselves.

Somehow the brown of Riven’s eyes darkened even more, his gaze running the length of my body. All my senses started to ping, his stare a touch against every inch of me. Something about what I’d just said had turned him on.

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe I should walk out. But neither of those things was going to happen, not unless Riven told me no or again said he wanted me to leave.

“You want me.” I stepped closer, right up in his space.

“I want someone, and you’re here. I haven’t fucked anyone in years. Don’t get it twisted. It’s not because you’re special.”

His words struck me speechless for a moment. Riven hadn’t been with anyone since before getting locked up? And also…did that mean he’d been with men back then? Or had he never been with one and just knew he was attracted to them?

“Who said I thought I was?” We were so close, I could feel his breath against my face, was pretty sure we were sharing the same air, Riven exhaling while I inhaled. “I used to want you,” I admitted, not entirely happy with myself for doing so. “I had a crush on you when we were young. When I looked at you, I realized I felt a whole lot of shit I didn’t feel when I looked at women.” Point to me for how steady my voice came out, when I was damn near bursting out of my skin.

“What are you saying, Parrish? I don’t have time for this shit.”

“I’m saying I’d be using you too. Call it…sating my childhood curiosity. And Jesus, Riven. It’s been years. You deserve to get off with someone. If not me, then find a woman, or I’ll take you into Bedford to help you get some ass. You deserve to bust a nut with someone.” That was another thing my family had taken away from him—years of his life, of sexual contact with anyone.

When he didn’t move or respond, I took a step back. “I put it out there, and now it’s on you. The last thing I want is to come off like some creepy prick trying to get into your pants. Just know it’s a standing offer. You want me, you can have me. Have a good night, Riven. And I’m sorry…about everything.”

I turned and went for the door.