Kindred: Kingpin (The Kindred Series Book 1) Page 13

  It’s difficult to adjust to, at first. Her sleeping patterns were non-existent during her time working for June and now she finds sleeping at normal times disorientating.

  She still has more than enough money saved up from when she’d worked with June and it’s enough to get by comfortably for a few years. She moves out of her apartment and back in with her family for a few months. She doesn’t know how to explain her injuries to them – the bruising around her body, her sallow complexion, the scars – but they seem to believe her story of a mugging. When they ask about June, she immediately dismisses the subject, ordering never to bring him up again and no one is brave enough to ask her about it afterwards.

  After a year, she moves back to the city. It takes a while but she manages to get a job at a small media house writing lifestyle features that don’t require much field research.

  Lucas and Ren visit often, as much as they can and especially when she’s cooking her grandmother’s curry recipe.

  “How’s June?” she asks one day, tone suspiciously casual.

  Both Ren and Lucas share a look over their plates, “He’s doing okay,” Ren says. Lucas remains silent, small frown on his lips. Tara asks him about it while Ren is busy scrounging around her kitchen for snacks.

  “He’s exerting himself too much,” Lucas sighs, “I haven’t seen him so tired in a long time. He doesn’t know how to do things without you around,” the last part is added with a light tone, his lips quirking up at the ends.

  Tara scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I’m sure his new secretary is more than capable,” she says. Her eyes narrow playfully, “I hear she’s prettier than me.”

  Lucas chuckles, “Loads prettier. She models in her free time,” he rolls his eyes. Lucas sounds like he wants to say more but Ren walks in at that moment.

  She takes time off of work to write and has her first manuscript finished within a year. She’s taken aback when it only takes three tries to get a publishing deal and assumes Michela has something to do with it when she receives a phone call from the woman out of the blue, congratulating her on the contract.

  On the day of release, Tara gets a call from her editor, telling her that an entire store has been sold out.

  “Every copy?” she asks in disbelief

  “Every copy, even the pre-ordered ones. Apparently someone high up really likes your work,” her editor chuckles, “You should send club Tempest a thank you card.”

  “What? Why?” she asks with furrowed brows.

  “That’s where all the books were shipped to,” her editor tells her.

  Tara’s eyes narrow at the words and she says her goodbyes quickly before changing into something that isn’t her pajamas.

  The guards at the club still remember her, so they let her in without hassle. She makes the trek up to the third floor, nostalgic as she does.

  She’s surprised at how barren the waiting room looks, her desk removed and seemingly not replaced. It’s just Lucas who stands outside his door.

  “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he smirks.

  “Is he busy?” she asks with a raised brow.

  “Yeah, but I’m sure he won’t mind,” the younger snickers as he opens the door to let her in.

  June sits at his desk, engrossed in a book and when he looks up; his eyebrows are scrunched in anger. She has no doubt that he was about to tell her off about being disturbed, but when he sees it’s her, his words get strangled in his throat.

  “What’re you reading?” she asks with a raised brow, eyeing him expectantly.

  “Nothing,” June replies in a quick tone, ducking the book behind the desk.

  She glances around the office to find boxes upon boxes stacked up from the local bookstore and her suspicions are confirmed.

  “So you were behind it,” she scoffs.

  “Behind what?”

  “Are you really going to play dumb when I can blatantly see hundreds of copies of my book from the store?”

  “These are for Jasper,” June replies in a casual tone, but he shifts in his seat, giving away how uncomfortable he is.

  “Uh huh,” she says with a raised brow and for a moment she wants to push the matter, find out why her books are all around his office but she decides against it, “Okay then, sorry to disturb you,” she turns to leave.

  “Wait!” June calls out, standing in a rush. Tara turns to him with expectant eyes and June seems to shrink at the attention, “How have you been?”

  She stares at him for a moment, taken aback, before she replies, “Um, good. I guess.”

  June nods at her words, eyebrows furrowed as he frowns in concentration. He doesn’t meet her gaze.

  An awkward silence passes over them and Tara stirs where she stands, shifting from foot to foot, “I’ll uh, be going then.”

  Before she can move, June rushes around the desk, eyes almost frantic, “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?” he rushes out, “To celebrate your book.”

  She looks at him with wide eyes, caught off guard by the suggestion. She might not hate him as much as she used to but she still doesn’t want to spend an evening alone with him.

  June seems to sense her apprehension, “I’d also like to formally apologize, if you’d give me the chance.”

  She’s still a bit hesitant about it but he looks at her with big sad eyes, like he already expects her to say no. She doesn’t have it in her, so with a resigned sigh she smiles, “Yeah, sure.”

  Lucas drives them to one of the quainter restaurants that Tara knows, “I thought you’d appreciate a quieter area,” June explains when he sees her eyeing the restaurant curiously, “I know you never liked the fancier places I frequented.”

  “That’s because I went there with you,” Tara snickers and when she sees June’s shoulders slump in disappointment, she sighs, “I’m just teasing.”

  He gives her a half smile, holding his arm out for her to take. Tara links her arm through his with hesitation, allowing June to lead her through the restaurant and to one of the booths in the back.

  They sit in silence for a while, contemplating their menus. June keeps staring at her from behind his menu, looking down every time she catches him and Tara tries not to let her irritation show when she asks, “What is it?”

  June hesitates for a moment before he speaks, “Your fingers,” he begins, “You used to have a lot of scars on the sides but they’ve healed now…” he ends the sentence with an unsure tone.

  Tara sighs, setting down her menu and stretching out her hands to stare at the tips of her fingers, “I pick the skin off the edges when I get anxious,” she explains.

  “I caused you stress,” he says in a guilty tone.

  Tara sends him a sad smile, “We didn’t have the best relationship,” she chuckles.

  He frowns, setting his menu down to take her hands in his, “I wanted to apologize,” June begins, “For the way I treated you and for letting my issues cloud my judgment of you.”

  Tara tries to downplay her unease but June feels it in the harsh tug she uses to pull her hand from his, “I know you mean well,” she mutters, “And I appreciate the sentiment but it’s going to take some time for me to forgive you.”

  “But you’re willing to?”

  Tara looks at the hopeful glint in his eyes and tries to give him a reassuring smile, “I am. I just need time.”

  June nods, a small smile playing around the edges of his lips when their food arrives. He looks at his seafood platter with hungry eyes, brows scrunching when he sees Tara’s nose wrinkle at his food.

  “I’m not a big fan of seafood,” she explains when he gives her a quizzical look.

  “Why?” he asks, finding it strange when he knows that her father used to be a fisherman.

  “Another time,” she says in a casually dismissive tone but he sees the way her shoulders tense, the way her smile tugs strenuously at the corners of her lips.

  He nods, deciding not to push her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

 
When Tara gets a call from June almost three months after their dinner, she looks at the phone in confusion. It’s around two in the afternoon and usually if he calls it’s to ask if they can have drinks or if she’s seen Lucas, who’s usually with her if he’s not with June.

  She answers with a hesitant, “Hello?”

  She knows something’s wrong as soon as she hears his voice. It trembles as he tries to say her name and for a moment she thinks he’s hurt. When he finally strings out what’s wrong, it’s so much worse, “Mom passed this morning…”

  She’s at Tempest quicker than she thought possible, bursting through the office and finding June seated at his desk, head in hands as tears drip onto the papers on his desk. She rushes over, draping her arms around him and tightening her hold of him when he clutches at her, “I’m so sorry.”

  He doesn’t reply, only cries into her hip as she holds him. Later, when June’s pulled himself together enough to move, he asks her to accompany him to his mother’s hometown where the funeral will be held. It doesn’t even cross Tara’s mind to reject the offer and before the day is over, she has a bag packed and is accompanying June to the airport.

  Lucas doesn’t comment on the way June clings to her, holding her hand so tightly that it almost hurts, and Tara is grateful. He’s almost as torn about the news as June is and Tara feels her heart break when she sees how broken both men are.

  She helps June with as much of the funeral preparations as she can, resolving to spend the week with him to plan.

  It’s the night before the funeral and June sits in the lounge, staring at the pictures of him and his mother that litter the mantel.

  “You should get some rest,” Tara tells him in a quiet voice.

  “Do you know how she died?” June asks instead.

  Tara’s feared broaching the subject. June doesn’t wait for her to respond and continues, “It was Lee and a few others who wanted revenge for Jenkins. They strangled her to death.”

  For a moment she thinks he’s going to blame her, flashes of him pinning her to walls and choking her flitting through her mind. But then he says, “I killed her.”

  Tara walks over to him, kneels in front of his chair and tilts his face so that he’s looking at her, “You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

  “If I’d just told her about-”

  “Do you honestly think your mother didn’t know about what you did?” Tara asks in a patient tone, “Do you think you could lie that well to the person who raised you?”

  “What do you mean?” June asks with a reproachful look in his eyes.

  “She knew, June,” Tara explains, “She told me herself. I think she might have always known. And she’d hate seeing you blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

  He nods, hand lifting to cup hers where it rests on his face, “I couldn’t control it,” he begins and something in his eyes change, anger prominent in the clench of his jaw, “But I can retaliate. If they want to take away my family, I’ll take away theirs.”

  “What good will that do?” Tara sighs, “Hurting more innocent people won’t bring your mother back. If you retaliate, they’ll retaliate. When does it stop? Until everyone you know is dead?”

  “As long as everyone they know is dead, too.”

  She stands, pulling her hands from his, “I thought you’d changed,” she sighs in disappointment, “If this is the path you’re going down, then I won’t support you.”

  “Fine,” June scoffs, “Leave.”

  She looks at him one last time before retreating to her room for the night.

  The morning of the funeral, Tara pads downstairs in her funeral attire, resolving in herself to stay long enough to pay her respects before she leaves. She spots June leaning against the kitchen counter and almost retreats back upstairs when he sees her and follows after.

  “Wait!” he calls, tugging on her arm when she refuses to look at him, “I wanted to apologize for what I said last night,” he continues, “You were right. Retaliating does nothing but cause death. And I don’t want to lose more people I care about.”

  She turns with a small smile, “Good.”

  The funeral is a quiet affair, a few of Soeun’s closest friends and some of June’s men. Both Ren and Sola are there, along with Lucas who can barely keep himself together. Tara feels guilty for focusing so much of her attention on June when Lucas was also grieving. She slides her hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He squeezes back, sending her a grateful smile.

  Michela and Jasper also show up to pay their respects, along with a few others that Tara doesn’t recognize. One man stands out, with graying hair and dressed in a simple black suit but surrounded by a host of men who stand so rigidly around him that they must be guards. He walks over to June, pulls the younger man into a tight hug and says something into his ear. June returns the action, before pulling away with a grateful smile.

  “That’s Aldo,” Sola tells Tara in a quiet whisper.

  “The Aldo?” While June is the state boss, in charge of their area, Aldo is in charge of everything. The only man June answers to is Aldo.

  Tara doesn’t have time to process the information because at the next moment, Aldo is walking over to them, eyeing her curiously. He stops in front of Tara with an arm outstretched, “You must be Ms. Morrigan.”

  “A pleasure,” Tara takes his hand with a trembling hand.

  “I’m Aldo,” he says, “But you can call me Al. June’s told me much about you. It’s a shame you’ve left your position,” she doesn’t know whether it’s a threat or not but chooses to smile anyway, “If you ever find yourself bored, you should come work for me. We could use a pretty smile around the office.

  “Alright, I think that’s enough,” June joins them, pulling Tara into his side and away from Aldo, “I believe Michela wanted to hear about the deal from last month. Why don’t you join her while Tara and I greet the others?”

  “There’s no ring on her finger,” Aldo replies with a petulant pout, “You can’t call dibs.”

  “There’s no ring on her finger but my Mark is on her skin,” June replies with such resounding finality that it leaves Tara reeling long after the conversation finishes.

  The wake is held at June’s family home, Tara and Sola running about preparing food for the guests. When Tara hears a commotion coming from the living room, she leaves the kitchen to check. She rounds the corner with curious eyes, spotting June standing at the lounge entrance, staring at a man seated on one of the chairs with such hatred that it makes shivers run down her spine.

  Tara knows who the man is as soon as she sees him. He’s older, significantly so, with graying hair and a wrinkled face. He and June share the same nose, the same eyes, even the same jaw structure. The man seated on the couch is June’s father.

  Tara watches with bated breath as June approaches him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and pulling him towards the door, “Get out,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

  “June, please just listen,” the man pleads, “I came to apologize-”

  “I don’t want your apologies!” June snarls.

  Someone nudges her shoulder and Tara turns to find Lucas staring at her with determined eyes, “Go speak to him.”

  “That might make it worse,” she mumbles.

  “Go,” Lucas gently pushes her in the direction of the entrance, so Tara goes, hesitantly walking over to where the men have stopped in the garden.

  June is speaking to a few men, who she assumes are guards, while his father stands a few feet away. She walks over, rests a hand on his shoulder and speaks in a soothing voice, “Hear him out, June.”

  He rounds on her with angry eyes about to spit out something when she continues, “It’s what your mother would have wanted.”

  He can’t argue with her, they both know that. June sighs, waving the men away and glaring up at his father, “Speak.”

  “I’m so sorry,” his father begins, “You can’t imagine how sorry I am
. I shouldn’t have-” he chokes up, tears streaming down his face, “I shouldn’t have let your mother deal with things on her own, shouldn’t have left you without a father.”

  “But you did,” June hisses.

  His father crumbles at the tone of his voice, “I know. And I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I needed you to know that I truly regret the choices I made.”

  June looks at him for a moment before speaking, “Alright, you’ve said your piece. Now leave.”