Edge Of Fear (Arrow's Edge MC Book 4) by Freya Barker (best love novels of all time .TXT) 📗

good at it too, because everyone knows what a disaster I am in the kitchen.

We had a late start and by the time Ravi is shoving the last taco down his gullet, it’s already getting dark outside.

“I’ll clean up.” I collect the dirty dishes and dump them in the sink. “You guys go ahead outside and start that fire before it gets too late.”

It doesn’t take much to tidy up, and I’m just about to head out back with the bag of marshmallows I found when my phone rings in my pocket.

Wapi’s name pops up on the screen.

“What’s up?”

“You need to get your ass down here.”

“Where? What’s going on?”

“Backyard. We’ve got a problem.”

That’s all I get before the line goes dead. Shit.

I see Ravi just got a nice fire going when I step outside.

“Did you find long sticks?” I ask him when he about snatches the bag from my hands.

“Yup.”

He shows me a couple of nice long ones.

“Good. Don’t give yourself a sugar coma,” I caution him when he shoves three gigantic marshmallows on one stick.

Then I bend over Sophia, who is watching him with a smile on her face.

“I’ve gotta run, Fee. Something urgent’s come up, but I’ll try to be back as soon as I can to get the kid home.”

She tilts her head back and asks worriedly, “Everything all right?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

They’re having a good time and I don’t want to spoil their fun before I know what is going on.

“Okay. And don’t worry about us. I can get Ravi to the clubhouse when were done here.”

I hesitate for a second but then I remember the urgency in Wapi’s voice, and drop a hard kiss on Sophia’s lips.

“I’ll call you.”

Sophia

“No more for Van, kiddo. Too much sugar isn’t good for him.”

I don’t bother cautioning Ravi that twelve marshmallows after he just ate five tacos might be pushing the envelope as well. From the way he presses his hand in his stomach, he’s discovering that for himself.

“Okay.”

I’ve been a little uneasy since Tse left abruptly, wondering what could have happened to make him rush out of here. It sounded urgent. As long as it’s not dangerous.

I hope he’ll call soon.

“Next time, if you want, you’re more than welcome to bring a friend.”

I’m trying to fill the deep pockets of silence. Ravi is the least talkative kid I’ve ever encountered. So unlike my sister’s girls, who chatter nonstop. Especially Reagan, who is about to turn twelve, going on twenty. I bet she could talk Ravi out of his shell.

“That’s okay,” he mumbles. “I don’t really have any.”

My heart spasms in my chest. He sounds so sad. So lost. I just wanna wrap him up, but I’m afraid he’ll bolt if I touch him. Tse told me about the incident at the clubhouse but Ravi never talks about it.

“How come?” I ask gently, and he glances at me, as if the question surprises him.

“I don’t get along. I’m not like the other kids.”

He says it very matter-of-factly, which makes it all the more heartbreaking. My pregnancy hormones are filling my eyes with tears as I furiously blink them back. I’m going to terrify the kid if I start crying now.

“You know,” I start carefully. “I remember having a hard time adjusting when I went to college. You’ve met my parents. They’re different. My sister, me, and my younger brother were all home-schooled. We lived in Arizona on a large piece of land with a bunch of other families. Grew all our own food, and never owned a computer. We had to go into town to use one in the library.”

“You grew your own food? What, like vegetables?”

“Yup. It was like one big farm. We grew vegetables, had some livestock for milk and cheese, and sometimes meat, but mostly we ate vegetarian meals.”

“You eat meat now, though,” he points out.

“I do. I’ve changed a lot since I left home.” I try to steer the conversation back around. “Still didn’t really know how to make friends, though. When I was younger other kids teased me because I was different, and by the time I was grown up I was pretty used to being by myself. That’s until I met Kelsey, Finn’s mom. She and I grew to be good friends. She’d had a different kind of childhood as well and we understood each other.”

I notice he’s listening intently and then appears to get lost in thought as he stares into the dwindling flames.

“My mom made the best Naan,” he suddenly says, his eyes still on the fire. “She had this big round heavy pan I had to help her lift on the stove. It would get so hot, steam would come off.”

That explains some of his features. He looks at least part East Indian to me.

“I love fresh Naan,” I prompt when he falls silent. “In fact, I love all Indian food.”

“She loved that pan,” he whispers, and I have to lean forward to hear him. “And then my uncle smashed her head in with it.”

I couldn’t have held back my gasp if I tried, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“He said she shamed the family honor and I had to go live with him.”

Swallowing down the bile surging up my esophagus, I ask, “How old were you?”

“Nine.” He lifts his gaze on me. “Do you think you can make me Naan some day?”

God, how I wish Tse was here. I’m terrified of saying something wrong and breaking his fragile offer of trust.

“I never have before, but I’m happy to try. Maybe you can help me?”

“Sure.”

He picks up the Frisbee and throws it for Van, who happily jumps up from where he was lying and bounds after it. As if he didn’t just drop the most heartbreaking story at my feet.

The buzzing of my phone has me almost jump out of my skin, and I rush to pull it from my pocket.

It’s a message from Tse.

Gonna be a bit longer. Need you to take Ravi