Twisted Magic (Book 2 of the Ink Series)

Marked

Dad paced the ground outside our house. It still was unclear what was going on. There were no flames coming out of windows, or from the roof. I was disturbed, nonetheless.

Nona squeezed my arm. "Shouldn't be much longer."

I patted her hand. "I'm glad you guys are here."

"Where else would we be sweet pea?" she said, tugging at my hair. "When is the last time you got a haircut?"

I wrenched my hair from her claws. "I like my hair this way." Man, she really knew how to ruin a moment. "What I meant was I am glad we live near you and Claude. It's nice to have family around at a time like this."

Nona dropped her arm from around me as Jesse approached. I hadn't seen him in forever. He sauntered over, clad in nice fitting jeans and a gray t-shirt.

"I'm sorry to hear about the house. Do they know what the cause of it was?" he asked Nona. He nodded his head in my direction, a stern tight smile on his lips. I felt the awkwardness from only feet away from him.

"Thanks," I shot back. Nona tugged me next to Jesse.

"Jesse has been dancing at the new studio. He says they are looking for singers to perform at the café." Nona told me. Jesse reluctantly nodded his head in agreement with Nona. He looked me in the eye, almost cringing. As if it pained him to lay eyes on me.

"Clive is looking for local talent. He prefers Ashwilder alumni, but he is willing to make an exception for Nona." Jesse looked away.

Nona jabbed me in the ribs. My house might have been burnt to a crisp, but she wanted me to discuss a career in singing at a café where they served subpar coffee and odd-shaped cookies. "Thanks, Jesse and Nona, that's nice of both of you."

Jesse drug a hand through his smooth hair, he shot Nona a toothy smile. She squeezed his shoulder and sent him on his way.

"So we will talk to Clive about having you at his coffee house." Nona informed me. "Now let's go calm your poor papa before he shits himself." She tugged me by the arm to the house.

Elliot and Easton were tossing a football. And Dad was wearing a path in the sand while Lynette stood waiting, being his rock or whatever you wanted to call it. She smiled at Nona and I.

"Neil. Come here. You're wearing a hole in your shoes pacing around." She scolded Dad like a little boy. The way I was sure she did when he was younger.

"Mom, I don't want to hear it. Everything we own is in that house." Dad snapped. He sighed.

"As opposed to where? Everyone keeps their belonging in their home. You act like I expected them to be spread out along the beach." She slapped him in the arm. "Pull it together. I am rich. I can buy you new stuff."

"You can't restore our family's memories, Mom." He griped. Lynette joined us. Dad slung an arm around her shoulders. She crossed her arms.

"Your mother's right, Neil," she said. What did she know?

"I was under the impression you hated your memories. And your wife," Nona muttered.

"Ex-wife," Dad pointed out looking at me with a pained expression at the mention of my dear mother.

Nona wagged her head back and forth. "Yes, yes, ex-wife. Don't make a habit of divorce, as I get older I forget just about everything, and keeping track of the next woman to ruin your life gets harder for me." She shot Lynette a warning glare and traipsed off toward Claude as he started in on a game of catch with the boys.