Page 29 of The Crowing of Hell
“Pinch me again, brat, and I’ll return the favour. Go sit your sorry ass down!” Rooster ordered.
“I hate baths,” Brax snarled.
“Oh, I can’t be your Kenny then. I only like clean boys, and I love baths,” I added, trying to help Rooster out.
Brax looked appalled, and then his shoulders slumped, and a hangdog expression crossed his face. “I’ll bath for you.”
Rooster’s jaw dropped open, and he faced me. “What can I pay you to stay?”
I laughed as Kit and Finn finished tidying up, and I kept turning the food to stop it from burning. When I turned, all four males gazed at me in something akin to wonder.
“Who usually cooks?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.
“Dad, or we eat at one of the aunts. They pass us around a lot. We’re a handful,” Brax replied.
“How old are you?” Was my next question.
“I’m ten, Finn is nine, and Brax is eight,” Kit answered.
“And Troy is?” I recalled the other name they mentioned.
“Our cousin. Troy’s father is Banshee, who is Dad’s brother. He’s eleven and thinks he can boss us around, but we have more ideas than he does. Troy can be lame sometimes. He’s always up for…” Kit stated, and Rooster raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, he’s always up to trouble with us three. Our uncles call us kids the Holy Terrors,” Kit admitted.
“The Holy Terrors?” I repeated.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Rooster added. “Look it up in the dictionary. The word holy means to be dedicated to a religion. These little fuckers are dedicated to the religion of causing terror, mayhem, and chaos. Clio named them the Holy Terrors, and it stuck.”
“Okay,” I murmured and turned back and began adding the fresh noodles I’d found.
“Jesse, the eldest of the kids, is seventeen and too old for their antics. Then there’s these four. After them, the closest in age is Louisa Mae, Chance and Clio’s little girl; she’s two, and the rest are babies,” Rooster elaborated.
“Okay,” I replied, wondering why Rooster was explaining all this.
“Boys, go lay the table,” Rooster ordered, and the kids disappeared in a whirlwind.
“What’s going on? Why am I here? Why didn’t you take me home?” I erupted as soon as the kids were gone.
“Calm down. Kenny, I’ll explain once they’re all in bed. Nothing nefarious is happening, honey. Let’s just enjoy a nice meal. I can’t remember when a woman cooked for me, who wasn’t family,” Rooster replied.
“That long?” I asked. “Not even their mom?”
Rooster pursed his lips. “No.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I said.
“And Sadie never met them. I didn’t allow her around them,” he continued.
I frowned before I knew I was doing it. Wasn’t Sadie pregnant with Rooster’s baby?
“Confused? Don’t blame you, I am too. Sadie latched on to me in physiotherapy. She had hurt her shoulder and was attending sessions to heal. At first, Sadie appeared kind and caring, but Chance told me to be careful, said she wasn’t ringing true. My gut had already warned me to wrap up using my own stock. Too many women stick pins in their own to trap a guy.
“Sadie somehow still got her hands on mine and got pregnant. Then told me she didn’t plan to be tied to a cripple and only wanted money. Sadie’s plans were to stay at home, and I’d fund her lifestyle. Only she jumped the gun. Due to my injury, Chance had been paying me disability, and the rest of my cash went into an account owned by him. Chance gave me the card, and I spent what I needed.
“Of course this meant to Sadie I had money. Boy, was Sadie pissed when she discovered I didn’t, thanks to Chance being a sneaky fuck. I’ve had to declare my earnings, and basically, all that shows is basic disability payments. Now, Sadie’s threatening to hold the baby over my head. If I don’t pay her way in life, then I won’t see the kid.”
“Wow,” I said, shocked.