Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

Riders on the Storm

Chapter Forty-Three: New Edition

Damion POV

For days, I couldn't get ahold of any member of my immediate family. Dad's phone, Mom's phone, the house phone…even Kylie's cell…they all went to voice mail.

Knowing where Sonny was—in the Poconos with Maggie—didn't stop me from calling him, too.

No dice.

He wasn't picking up either.

The only person I could get into contact with was Carlisle—my not-so-favorite uncle.

He assured me that everyone was fine and well. Told me my parents had gone on their vacation, and Kylie was out somewhere with my aunt.

I didn't buy it, not one bit.

Something was off.

The whole ordeal felt wrong.

When Monday night rolled around, I tried calling my parents' house again.

Once more, I received no answer; meanwhile, they should have been home by then. Their plane was supposed to land that morning.

I called my uncle…

He said they were all right. My sister was home, and my parents were more than likely tired from their excursions in Bermuda and ignoring their cells.

With a shift at the hospital Tuesday morning, I was stuck. I couldn't head out to Brooklyn like I'd wanted to.

I had to wait, and when the clock hit six, I practically ran out of the hospital.

"Where are you going?" Jordan was just entering the ladies' locker room while I was leaving the men's.

"Uh…" I pointed down the hall dumbly, stuck for an answer.

Since we've gotten back together, we've been joined at the hip. We work together. We live in the same building, and we have the same days off. We've also spent every meal and night together…for the past six days.

We've only been back on for six days, but once we'd made up, it was like we'd never broken up.

I was going off course at the moment, doing something different from our usual nightly activities.

There'd be no studying and eating Burger King tonight.

And for someone as ballsy as me—for someone who's done some questionable shit in their life—I couldn't lie to Jordan again, not after what'd happened the last time I did.

It'd cost too much if I was caught out there, lying.

I was also scared she'd want to tag along, and…

There was no way I wanted her to associate with any member of my family.

I didn't want her getting too close…to that part of my life.

It's enough…more than enough that she knows who I'm related to and has come to accept it.

But bringing her home…

With the way Mom is…

And the way Dad is…

And if Sonny checks out her rack, I might deck him.

I didn't want her to come with me.

No matter how much has slipped out—no matter how much I've said about my family, I wanted to keep her separate.

Trust me; I only share the "good" things. I only tell her about the happy memories I do have about my family.

"What's wrong?" She stared at me, and the hand went to her hip. Jordan was studying me, trying to grill me—make me crack. It's the same look…the same look I'd get from Dad: the human lie detector.

Fuck. That's creepy…comparing Jordan to Dad.

Where'd that come from?

"Nothing," I said. "I think…I-I don't know." Going for nonchalance, I shrugged and leaned back against the wall while an orderly passed between us pushing a stretcher. "I'm not feeling too well."

"You're not getting sick, are you?" Jordan stepped toward me only to hop back.

I almost smirked to myself. "Scared of germs, Doctor?"

She grinned. "You're not sick."

I didn't say anything. I didn't even move.

"You don't look sick." She gasped. "You have a surprise for me? That's it, isn't it? How many times have I told you...? I don't need flowers or fancy restaurants," Jordan giggled, lying through her teeth.

I've yet to meet a woman who didn't like to be romanced, wined and dined.

That noble, modest bullshit is exactly that—bullshit.

I pursed my lips, thinking I could easily buy her something on my way back to the dorms. "Well…"

She grabbed my hand. "What's…up? I'm getting this weird…" she grimaced, at a loss for words "—vibe?"

I looked up and down the hall, making sure no one could see us before I pecked her lips. "I haven't heard from my parents. They came back from their trip yesterday, and I just wanna go check on them. I also haven't seen them in a while, so...I'll probably be back—"

"Oh…" She nodded. "Gimme a minute to change—"

I shook my head, jerking a thumb toward the elevator. "I should just—"

Her eyes widened. "I know who they are, what they do…What's the big deal?"

I could picture it now: my mother taking Jordan shopping or something, my sister being so fucking intrusive, and, God forbid, anyone bring up Maggie, my past behaviors, or…anything.

"It's not a big deal . . . but I'll probably be back late."

Her brows rose. "What, Amelia might be there or something?"

"No."

"What's the big deal? I met your dad—"

"Hurry up. I'll wait out here for you." I caved, backing down like some pussy.

All of which made Jordan grin and skip into the locker room to get changed.

The way I've spoken about my family…well, they kind of sound normal: the homemaker mother and the father who…brings home the bacon, the ballbusting older brother, and the cute, yet annoying little sister.

It's picturesque—very normal—the way I imagine them and talk about them.

I used to do that shit in high school, thinking that if I thought that way long enough, we'd morph into a TV Family—those fuckers who each week, for thirty minutes, have these perfect home lives.

And every conflict is sorted out in less than an hour . . .

/=/=/=/

After we left the hospital and before we went down to the subway, I thought about calling my parents again. I chose not to because Jordan was so excited to see the place where I grew up.

Jordan kept talking about my father's occupation, too—about how it more than likely doesn't define him as a person, that he's just a human being, like we are.

It was eye-roll worthy, but I just smiled and agreed with her.

After all, she'd never be privy to certain aspects of the game, the thing. Who knows? To an outsider looking in, my family might just seem normal.

When we left the train, my stomach rolled and knotted up.

Most of all, I was scared that they might not like her?

Since when do I give a fuck about any of that?

She's met my parents and my brother, although very briefly, so there's a chance that we could all get to talking and Mom decides she hates Jordan.

That would suck.

But only because I'd be torn between two of the most important women in my life.

Then…I berated myself.

Yes, Jordan and I are back on track. Once we were back together, we picked up where we left off, yet Jordan is still adamant about taking things slow.

The past week has felt like a year, so yeah—slow, I guess.

"We're having fun," is how she puts it, but we're together—exclusive, and I know she loves me.

I can feel it.

And I never had that before.

I've had women—a couple…well, two chicks—tell me they love me, but I never felt it in a kiss, in a sweet caress, nor have I felt it during sex. I never saw it in a look, either.

So, we don't have to say it or validate each other with words.

We just know…

Well, I hope Jordan's as perceptive as I am.

Above all else—what weighs more on my shoulders—is that there's a small chance she might get too close to them.

They'll either hate her, or love her, and I didn't know which would be worse . . . and thinking of the things that can happen to those we're close to.

God forbid she's standing somewhere—at the wrong place or the wrong time, or someone says something she's not to hear.

I'd have no choice but to marry her or take care of her.

And the greatest thing about being with Jordan is that from the get . . . I've had a clean slate.

I've been this average guy, a medical student, and I've never shared or voiced my innermost evil thoughts.

Then again, I like to think that my girlfriend knows me better than anyone—that I'm being the real me when I'm with her.

But the jury's still out on that.

These days, I'm chill…average; meanwhile, I keep waiting for that one thing…something that'll make me crack.

And I didn't want Jordan to get a glimpse or know of that person—who I used to be or who I am.

/=/=/=/

Jordan quickly ran ahead of me and up the subway steps when we got off the train. I trailed behind but enjoyed her wide eyes as she took in her surroundings. I guess Fourth Avenue is a sight to those who've never seen it.

Once I caught up to her, she frowned. "It kind of looks like the Village."

I nodded. "With all the stores…sure. My parents' house is this way." I grasped her hand, pulling her toward the corner while my eyes scanned the area.

She knew we'd have to walk a few blocks, and then she'll see—how a gritty avenue filled with shops and people can be mere streets from some of the most expensive homes in New York City—the contrast that is Bay Ridge.

The walk down to Shore Road was a quiet one. Jordan took everything in with her new eyes, marveling at how when we reached each avenue, it was different from the last.

We passed Fort Hamilton High School, the park, and even my uncle's house.

Carlisle's car wasn't in the driveway, so I didn't bother stopping there. We saw the same when we passed Sonny's house. It was dark, no lights were on, and his whip was also missing.

And that's because both of their cars were parked outside of my parents' house.

Disappointment filled me at the realization, seeing their cars lining the curb.

They were obviously having a family dinner without me.

No one had called; no one had sent me a text message.

They know I'm unavailable weekday-evenings, but they could have called, right?

"What's the matter?" Jordan stopped to stare at the house with me. "Is this it?"

I nodded and pointed to my childhood home. "Guess they forgot to—" I cut myself off to smile down at her. "I guess you'll get to meet everyone."

"Oh." She grinned, grasping my hand tightly. "Let's go." Jordan remained enthusiastic as we strode up the walkway.

Me? Not so much, but I dug my keys out of my pocket. Or, maybe I should knock, ring the doorbell since it seemed I was now considered a guest—someone who needed to be invited.

"Hang on." She placed her hand on mine and blew out a large breath. "I'm nervous now. It, like, just hit me. Your father's Edward-fucking-Cullen! Holy shit!" She held her forehead.

Sadly, I didn't know what to say that would ease her anxiety. Inside, I was kind of pissed, wanted to have a word or two with my parents.

This evening won't be as ideal as Jordan thought.

"They'll love you," I said.

"You have nothing to be nervous about," I said.

But as my blood boiled, I became cold—couldn't look at Jordan because I wanted to make believe she wasn't here.

"Damion?" She palmed my cheek, turning me to face her. "What's—"

"Hey!" Kylie shouted, whipping the door open.

We broke apart, our eyes landing on my sister.

"This must be Jordan?" Kylie pointed, her smile fading. "Dame…?"

I cleared my throat to smile. "Yeah…this is Jordan." I placed my hand on her back to usher her inside ahead of me.

"Wow!" Kylie hugged a surprised Jordan while I looked for my parents.

"Where's Mom and Dad?" I asked, entering the foyer.

"At the table. We just sat down to dinner." Kylie opened her arms for me.

I embraced her, confused as ever.

"God…I missed you," Kylie whispered, rubbing my back, and it sounded like she was crying.

When I pulled away, I studied her expression. "What's going on?"

She sniffled and giggled. "Nothing…just a long, long week." Kylie wiped under her eyes.

I furrowed my brow, stepping back. "Right."

It wasn't the first time I'd felt like a stranger in what I'm to consider home. But after the past six months and all the progress I'd made with Dad—all the progress I'd made myself—it felt like a low blow, an unexpected kick to the gut.

After Kylie took our coats—again, with the feeling like an actual visitor—I sought my parents who were just sitting down to dinner. My whole family sat at that table, Chinese food cartons littered about, laughter to be heard a room away.

Even little Eddie and the twins were here along with Anthony. My gaze lingered on my cousin first, as we've yet to mend fences completely, but then I was brought back to the present when Jordan squeezed my hand.

"Dame!" My father rose to greet me, wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. Mom got in on that one and squeezed me, this awkward family hug. Unfortunately, my hand was knocked out of Jordan's. "We missed you, kid!" Dad kissed my cheek while Mom got the other one.

It made me smile, but I had loads of questions.

"You brought Jordan." Mom beamed, zeroing in on her.

"Uh…yeah." I glanced at everyone at the table. "This is Jordan…Jordan…that's everyone."

She waved with her cheeks on fire as they all acknowledged her.

"Welcome," Mom said, placing her arm over Jordan's shoulders. "I've been dying to meet you."

"Likewise." Jordan smiled. "You have such a lovely home."

"Thank you." Mom almost squealed, but you could have heard a pin drop. The silence was almost deafening. The situation was crazy awkward because…again…my family wasn't being themselves.

It's as if they all have an on/off switch whenever an outsider intrudes. They're all their best representatives instead of being themselves, which is something to be grateful for.

They'll turn into The Waltons while Jordan's here.

Thank God.

"Come on…sit." Mom pulled out a chair. "Jordan, you sit near me so we can talk."

"Great." Jordan sat where Mom instructed, and I stood there, expectant.

I needed to speak with my father. "Dad, can we…talk a minute?" I kept my tone hushed when I really felt like screaming.

Whatever was going on, I was left in the dark.

"What's up?" He had a mouth full of Lo Mein already.

"Nothing." With my stomach in a knot, I feigned nonchalance and sat between Dad and Sonny. That's when I noticed my father's head. The man was almost bald. "Nice...haircut," I mumbled.

"I look young, right?" Dad laughed.

"Like a teenager," I lied.

"Fucking liar," he commented.

"What's up, man?" Sonny patted my back.

"How are you?" Maggie leaned over him to ask that.

I didn't look at my brother's wife, a habit I'd picked up ever since I started counseling Sonny with his coke habit. "I'm great…how was the Poconos?"

"Oh…you know. It was good." Maggie had never been a good liar.

"Why the change of heart?" Sonny whispered. "I thought you didn't—"

"I didn't have a choice," I muttered, throwing Ant a chin jerk. "She wanted to come." He knew I'd wanted to keep Jordan and the family separated for as long as I could get away with.

Anthony's brows rose in acknowledgement while he piled white rice onto his plate, but he didn't say anything.

"You're in medical school, too?" Kylie shouted across the table.

"Yes…I work with Damion every day."

"That must be convenient." Kylie snorted.

"What do you mean?" Jordan asked but her attention went back to Mom when she started talking.

I leaned back in the chair, staring at the empty plate in front of me, and I waited for conversations to continue.

But the only people talking were Mom and Jordan, and that wasn't awkward at all.

/=/=/=/=/

By the time dessert was served, I was aching for answers. I even resorted to giving my father off glances, hoping he'd leave the table so I could follow. He never did. Dad actually did his best to look in the opposite direction whenever I stared at him.

Meanwhile, Sonny wanted to talk to me. We excused ourselves, and maybe I was a shitty boyfriend, but I didn't bother to see if Jordan was okay. She was doing just fine—chatting my mother up. It seemed like Mom adored her, and Jordan even helped Maggie serve coffee.

"Let's go outside." Sonny stomped down the stairs while I trailed after him and out of the house.

Once in the backyard, I was fast to light a cigarette and give Sonny one—since he never has any. "What's up?" I asked, blowing my smoke out and taking a seat; Sonny did the same, keeping his other hand in his pocket.

"It's fucking brick." He shivered.

I chuckled as a random thought came to mind. "The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats—not enough by half."

Sonny snorted. "Titanic."

I poked my nose and nodded.

The air was freezing and it was dark, but we sat on the patio furniture.

"Remember doing that? Quoting movies and shit…" He trailed off with a sigh, looking up to the few stars that were out.

"You okay?" I hit his shoulder. "How's…you know."

"Eh…I'm all right." He shrugged. "I haven't been back to work yet." Suddenly, his whole face lit up. "Me and Maggie, man. We've been in our own little world…just keeping to ourselves. It's been amazing—"

"You haven't tried to take any more swings at her?" I laughed, even though I shouldn't joke about that…yet, I guess.

Sonny furrowed his brow, his lips drawing a tight line.

"Too soon?" I asked.

"Just a bit." He flicked his cigarette across the yard.

I raised a brow, wanting to salute him. If he didn't have his head, he would have taken a swing at me for that remark. "Good for you…staying away from that shit."

He nodded, and he was being too quiet for me. Normally, I can't wait for people to shut the fuck up. But everyone—for whatever reason—had their lips sealed.

"What's going on?" I nearly shouted. "You're all being…I don't know. What'd'ju wanna talk to me about?"

"Oh…" He sounded surprised. "I wanted to ask you how Amelia got Maggie's number?"

My eyes widened as I had no idea. "I don't know."

"Only a few have it…and I've only just recently given it to you." He stared at me.

I shook my head. "Is she calling Maggie? Why?"

"Not recently…That night, the night of Gramps' party? Remember?"

"Yeah…" I waited for him to continue.

"Maggie told me some chick had called her phone. But they'd called days before that, so it was around three weeks ago. Amelia called Maggie saying some shit, and I'm telling you now, bro…You need to do something. She's got connections, too. And why is she getting in my business, trying to fuck my shit up? If her problem's with you…then you need to handle that." He ranted.

"Whoa…" I honestly had no idea why she'd call Maggie. "What'd she say to Maggie? I don't—"

"She basically pretended I was fucking her, said I'd stood her up. Amelia called Maggie's cell looking for me. Why would she do that?"

I shrugged.

"What's that?" He mimicked me, shrugging. "That was your girl."

I pushed my hair back. "How do you know it was—"

"Seriously? You're going to ask me that?" he laughed. "I have my ways. Maybe it was on the back burner while shit was already hot—maybe my head's been this way or that way—but I'm still taking care of business."

I put my palms up. "Never doubted you for a minute."

"Do I have to sit down with Luke?"

"Sonny, Amelia…she's not my girl anymore, and I don't know why she'd…do what she did." I didn't know what else to tell him.

"Well, then you better call Amelia—"

"No!" I stood up, started to pace. "I'm not opening that can of worms again. Just change Maggie's number, keep her informed, and let her know—"

"Her number's changed," he said, the picture of calm. "But you have loose ties that need to be tightened. With all the shit I gotta worry about, I have to worry about your old bitch, too? Come on, bro."

I nodded. "I'll—I'll take care of it." My brother was right. While I had no clue…well, I kind of did. If I had to guess, Amelia still blames Maggie for my…whatever-the-fuck, losing interest. But looking back, gaining six million was what had made Amelia all the more attractive in my eyes.

And now…I had Jordan, blind as a bat—metaphorically—Jordan.

I had to confront Amelia, but...

"If I step foot in Jersey—"

"You could be killed," Sonny said. "That's the bed you made, but you're better off just trying to talk to her on the phone. Don't go out there. Dad's been doing his best—"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Sonny laughed some more. "He put a stop to any business dealings those from Jersey have in…your area."

"He did that for me?" I was surprised. Son or not, my father's likely losing money. "Luke's cool with that?"

Sonny scratched his forehead. "I didn't exactly give him a choice."

"You…?"

"Yeah—" he nodded "—me."

I blew out a breath. "I'll…" Calling Amelia was the last thing I wanted to do in the world. "Dude, she's not crazy-crazy. She hasn't done anything, nor has she tried to contact Maggie again, has she?"

"That's not my point. If she goes psycho bitch, the result…? Endgame? Come on, Dame, think." He poked his temple.

"It'd start a war…another war," I whispered.

"She does some stupid shit…I won't hold back." He spat at me. "I'd chop off that cunt's head and leave it on Luke's porch, if she steps to Maggie—does some wild shit." Sonny meant every word. "Then they strike back…You feel me? She started it…just by calling, and you need to finish it."

I leaned down to whisper in his ear, "You want me to kill her?"

"No!" He pushed me. "What the fuck?" Sonny stood up to face me. "The objective is to avoid conflict. Find out what her deal is…talk to her first."

"Okay," I agreed.

"I'm not going to the mattresses for some heartbroken lunatic. That's not an option."

"What's Dad say?" I zipped up my jacket, seconds away from shaking, and it wasn't because of Amelia. We're halfway through March and it's still cold as fuck.

Sonny shook his head. "I haven't brought it to his attention just yet. In hindsight, Amelia didn't do anything…besides try and fuck with my marriage. So, technically, it's my problem, but it's truly your problem. You handle it before I do."

"Okay." I nodded as Sonny headed back toward the house, but I stopped him. "What happened this week—"

"Nothing." That came out a little too quick.

"Where were you really?"

"The Poconos." He stared into my eyes, seemingly telling the truth. "You want trip confirmation—what?"

"No," I whispered. "I'm just wondering why I've been kept in the dark—"

He guffawed. "Most weeks, you don't even call Mom or Dad. They have to ring you, but now you give a fuck?"

"Hey, I always—"

"You don't." His voice took on a somber tone. "And you helping me? It's appreciated, but don't think I don't know that you were only around for Maggie's sake."

"It's not like that." I chuckled nervously.

"I know…but you do care about her…You care enough that you watched me like a hawk. So, thank you. No matter your intentions, you still showed up—were there for Maggie and me." He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. "Thank you."

Surprised, I patted his back. "You're welcome."

"But…you missing Mom and Dad?" He pulled away. "They were in Bermuda five days."

"They really went to Bermuda?" I hedged.

"Yes!" Now he sounded exasperated.

"All right," I sighed, following him back into the house.

"And handle that, Dame—that shit?" He glanced at me from over his shoulder.

"I will." I didn't know how, but I had to. "Wait…" I actually pulled on his hand, something I used to do when I was eight.

He stopped walking up the stairs.

"Why not just tell Dad?" I kept my tone hushed. "He'll take care of it—"

Sonny groaned, placing his hand on my shoulder. "You want me and Dad cleaning your messes forever? Don't get me wrong. I owe you a big one for last week…well, no. Last week might just make us square…My point is…how many jams are we gonna help you out of this year?"

I didn't reply as I had nothing to say.

My brother was correct, and I could recite a litany of names…those who'd died because of all my mistakes this past year.

Some I had conflicts with. Some had to die to cover up the other ones…

And now because of my change of heart, because I jilted the Princess of New Jersey, there could be a lot more casualties.

Sonny's words hit below the belt, felt like another kick to the gut, but he was right and what he said was true.

No matter how dumb I found it, I had to clean up my mess, talk to Amelia and see where her head's at. She could do something stupid—all because she's hurt—that could start a war.

/=/=/=/

My uncle, Alex, Anthony, and the twins left with barely a goodbye to me. Anthony never gave me a second look. It's not that I thought he'd forgive me quickly, but if Carlisle, and even Alex, can talk to me and be civil after what I did, why couldn't Anthony? But that was just another thought for the ever-growing pile in my brain.

By the time I met up with Jordan again, my mind still wandered. She was busy looking at old family albums with my mother—which is such a clichéd thing to do—but I left them to it.

Then I actually drifted into the kitchen to catch up with Dad and Sonny, but I only found Maggie and Kylie.

"Where's Dad?" I asked.

Kylie smirked at me. "Will you leave him out of this? He's suffered enough, already. The man hasn't been able to digest a decent meal in six weeks!"

"GoodFellas." Maggie rolled her eyes, loading the dishwasher. "You stay on one movie forever."

I smiled—just for a second—because they briefly reminded me of Sonny and me. Actually, it's something we all do, or have done. "You've seen that?" I asked Maggie.

She pointed to my sister. "She made me sit and watch it."

I put my hands up.

"What…? You think I sit at home watching Touched By An Angel or Passion of the Christ?" Maggie raised a brow.

I chuckled despite myself. "Where's Sonny?"

"In Dad's office...obviously with Dad." Kylie pointed down the hallway.

I looked on Jordan for a quick second before heading down the hall. Again, she was fine—winked at me when she saw me.

When I approached my father's office, I stopped to listen, hearing whispers that weren't so hushed.

"I told you I took care of it," Sonny said.

"That quick, though?" Dad laughed. "He's so old—"

"You should give him more credit…And you recorded the six o'clock news like I said?" my brother asked.

"Yeah…I did," my father replied while I heard a television zap on. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this shit." He continued to grumble under his breath.

"You know…he's old school, likes a show . . . Forward it. I was told it's toward the end." After hearing Sonny say that, I knocked.

"Come in," Dad instructed.

Doing as he said, I waltzed into the room—my eyes glued to the small plasma in the corner. "What are we watching?"

Dad and Sonny exchanged a look before my brother answered me, "Current events."

"Oh." I leaned my ass back on Dad's desk while he fast-forwarded through a news broadcast, and then he hit pause.

"You need money or something?" he asked me.

"No," I said.

Dad put the remote down. "It's great to see you…I definitely didn't expect homegirl to come with you."

I pointed to his head. "I didn't expect to find you…bald."

"It's growing back." He rubbed his head.

I nodded, curious, at a loss as to what I should or could say. "I just—"

"You sure you don't need money?" Dad asked once more while he dug a few bills from his pocket. "Take some anyway."

"Thanks." I took it since…these days I don't have a side-job. "How are you?"

My father stared at me, rocking back on his heels. "Great…Bermuda was awesome."

"You don't have a tan," I commented.

He winked. "You wanna list of what Mom and I did?"

Sonny started cackling, and I put a hand up to stop Dad while he was ahead.

"I bet youse never left the room," Sonny said.

"It's possible." Dad shrugged, face smug.

I kept my mouth shut and took a seat on his couch. "So…what's going on in the world?"

Looking toward the TV, Dad took his cue and hit play. "I have no idea. Your mother and I," he sighed, "we had a good trip."

"Maggie and me, too."

The news played in the background when I contributed to the conversation. "Jordan and I are obviously back together."

"It is…obvious." My father smiled. "Glad you two could work it out—hang on." He leaned toward the television and turned up the volume.

It wasn't world news or anything of importance. A reporter stood near fire trucks and other official vehicles while a fire seemed to be dying down behind her.

"Good evening. This is Alana Miller, coming to you live from Middletown, New York where a gas explosion has taken at least two lives. The historic building you see in embers behind me was once the home believed to belong to the first settlers of this community. For the past twenty years, it's served as a local hotspot—The Switch Inn."

"Middletown?" I asked.

Dad threw his head back and laughed.

"The bodies have yet to be identified, although they're believed to be Alistair Finnegan, a lifelong resident of the city of Middletown, and Omar Lelack of Dutchess County—" Dad turned off the television.

"Told you," Sonny said.

I was lost. "What?"

Dad placed two more hundred-dollar bills into my hand. "Here…have some more money." He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Thanks." I pocketed it and looked to Sonny, and he was studying his cell phone. More important than some fire out in the boonies, I worried about Jordan and me getting back to the dorms.

After what Sonny said…

I've never been one to fear for my own life, but Jordan's wasn't something I was playing with.

"Can you get someone to give us a lift back…?" I asked.

Dad nodded, smiling widely.

Then a thought popped into my head as I turned in a circle. "Where's Grandpa?"

My father and brother started cracking up again.

Thank you for reading.

Please leave me your thoughts.