"Twenty-four, fourteen, thirty-three, sixty-seven."

"Um... is there a bunch of right and left rolling with that?"

"Mama, it's a keypad."

"Oh," I whispered.

"Twenty-four, as in, two then four, then hit the enter key, one then four, enter key and three then three, enter then six then seven, enter and open. You with me?"

"I think I can negotiate a keypad, honey lumpkins, but my locker at school you had to do all this winding around, back and forth and eventually I had to learn how to pop it because I could never get the fucking thing open."

"This isn't your locker at school. It's a fucking expensive fireproof safe with a keypad."

"Whatever," I muttered then said, "I'm here, hang on." I squatted, punched in the numbers then turned the handle and it opened. I put the letter in on top of Ty's wads of cash, his gun, clips, ammo, the envelope with our marriage certificate and my boxes of diamonds then I closed the safe. "It's there."

"Good, baby. Gonna call Tate and see how to play this. Obviously, I can't waltz into the Carnal Police Station so it needs to be safe until I know what to do with it."

"She said she sent other stuff."

"Well, I'm not feelin' like waitin' while that shit processes it's way to someone who's gonna pull their thumb outta their ass and turn the wheels of justice so my name is cleared. I'm a priority to me. She sent that shit in the mail, who knows what the fuck's gonna happen to it but whoever reads it isn't gonna know who the fuck I am and since they don't know, they aren't gonna care as much as me."

I grinned into the phone and muttered, "I see your point." I listened to his soft laughter then asked, "Do you think this will do it?"

"Don't know."

"I think we should send a copy to Angel," I suggested.

"Definitely one of the plays we need to make. But I wanna talk to Tate and I want him to have a look at it. Sit tight, mama, I'll call you."

"I was going to go to the grocery store and, um... other stuff." I didn't elaborate because I was thinking Ty was not in the mood for a paint chip and new curtain discussion. "Do you need me to stay at home or close to town, just in case?"

"Close to town but you don't gotta stay home. Do what you gotta do in town. The other stuff can hold. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He didn't say anything and he also didn't disconnect.

So I sat on my ass in the closet and asked quietly, "You okay?"

"This could be it."

"Yeah, baby, this could be it," I whispered.

"Toxic pussy knew her number was up, spurred her finally to do right. Took that to finally make that bitch do right. Still, she did right. So I guess I can lose that sour taste in my mouth every time I remember I slid my cock inside her."

"Another bonus," I muttered and heard him chuckle.

"And she's dead and I'm alive and breathin' and able to slide my cock inside you."

That got a couple of tingles but I ignored them and on another mutter said, "A bigger bonus."

"Got that right, mama."

I smiled at the phone.

Then I ordered, "Go, call Tate, let's get the wheels of justice turning to clear my man's name."

"Right. Later, babe."

"Later, honey."

I heard him disconnect and I stared at the safe.

Then I got off my ass and hustled out of the closet, the bedroom and the house. I had groceries to buy, dessert to procure and then I had to get home so I could be available to get the wheels of justice turning to clear my man's name.

The Charger growled through the development and I was riding high on a day that included the delivery of kickass Team Walker tees, a letter from beyond the grave from bitch-face Misty that exonerated my husband, the discovery and purchase of two bottles of not-cheap champagne I found at the liquor store and the fact that Shambles had an entire lemon poppy seed cake with drizzle icing and a thick layer of lemon cream frosting in the middle that I could buy to end the fucking fantastic celebration dinner I had planned.

So I did, I bought the whole cake.

But as I neared our house, I saw a beat up, rusted, old model SUV in our drive and leaning against the side sucking on a cigarette was a petite, older, white woman with shoulder-length hair that had a lot of frizz. At the end of the SUV and out in the street, for some reason staring up the hill into the wood, his back to me, was a very large, very tall black man.

Hearing my approach, he turned to face the Charger and I noticed he was older too though he only had a hint of white in his hair to indicate this and didn't look near as old as the woman.

He also looked a lot like Ty.

Shit.

I pulled in beside them in the drive, feeling their eyes on me the entire time I parked, switched off my new baby, pulled out the keys and folded out of the car.

"Hey," I greeted as I rounded the trunk, seeing they were still where they were when I drove up, woman against the SUV, man at the end. Firm distance between them.

He was still handsome, very. She was not. The skin on her face was hanging down in a weird way, lots of wrinkles and they looked like ripples of sags. The bottom lids of her eyes drooped a bit, exposing some pink. She needed an emergency visit to Dominic's spa and not just for a facial. Her hair had a bad dye job and she'd chosen a weird shade of light brown that wasn't all that attractive.

As I came to a stop on their side of my car, they were still staring at me but neither of them spoke.

I broke the silence. "Um, I'm guessing you're Ty's parents?"

The woman didn't take her eyes off me when she sneered, "She's guessin' we're Tyrell's parents."

Hmm. Seemed Ty's Mom hadn't softened with age.

She went on, "Two white girls hitched to black men in this county. Me with him," she jerked her head to the man who was still hanging out at the end of the SUV, "and you and the black half of my son."

The black half of my son.

I wasn't really sure I liked how she put that.

"Well, um... I'm glad to meet you," I said quietly.

"Well, um..." she parroted sarcastically then she leaned in, "you were glad to meet me, you wouldn't a' been in town with my boy for months without meetin' me."

I didn't know what to do with this. Ty talked about them but all in the past. I let him talk and my questions were few as they always were, allowing him to share at his pace and not pushing. I didn't actually know they still lived close.

Of course I couldn't tell her that.

"We've been kinda busy." And that wasn't a lie.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Too busy to meet your man's parents?"

"Well " I started but she cut me off.

Looking me up and down, she said, "'Spect he hasn't met your parents either and 'spect it's not for the same reason we haven't met you."

I read her inference and this was because it was hard to miss.

"Actually, my parents are both deceased so it would be difficult for Ty to meet them but if they weren't and I'd actually met them before they died, which I didn't, then he would have."

Okay, so I was getting mad. I could feel the sass rising in me and I was trying hard not to throw it but unfortunately not succeeding.

At this point, Ty's father moved forward.

"I'm Irving Walker. Irv," he told me as he got close then his hand extended.

I tipped my head back to look at him and saw he wore an expression that held some curiosity, some uncertainty and not a small amount of cautious warmth.

Therefore I took his hand, squeezed it and introduced myself, "Alexa. Alexa Walker. Everyone calls me Lexie."

He smiled and his smile was near as beautiful as his son's.

Then he released my hand and jerked his head down and to the side to indicate the woman.

"This is Ty's Ma, Reece."

I looked to her, decided to make an attempt at civility and extended my hand. "Hello, Reece."

She held my eyes then hers dropped to my hand then they came back to mine. Then she lifted her cigarette to her mouth, wrapped her lips around it in a weird way where it looked like half the tip was between her lips, she sucked deep and all her sags contracted in a highly unattractive way then she let the cigarette go on a sucking noise and blew out an enormous plume of smoke. It was so enormous I dropped my hand and took a step away so as not to get caught in its fog. Surprisingly, so did Irv.

"Reece," he muttered, sounding pissed then, "Jesus."

Her eyes shot up to him and she snapped, "What? Look at this shit." Then she swung an arm out indicating me but that arm flew wide indicating, I guessed, everything in our local vicinity. She dropped her arm, leaned toward Irv and hissed, "Look at this shit."

I did not like being referred to as shit or the home my husband provided for me being included in that and I felt my eyes narrow as my control on my sass slipped a hefty notch.

Reece wasn't done. "My eyes don't deceive me, those wheels are brand new. Though, my eyes could be deceivin' me since I'm blinded by the fuckin' rocks she's wearin' on her fuckin' finger. Now tell me, how does my idiot son go down for some bullshit crime probably some white man committed then he gets outta prison, hooks himself a class act like this bitch, puts that fuckin' rock on her finger, her ass in a brand new set of wheels, keeps his fancy-assed condo, gets his job back that pays him near to sixty fuckin' grand a year and, all that, he's got no time for his Momma. He's got no time for his Daddy. He's got all that, he don't share the love with the two people responsible for him breathin' on this earth."

There was a lot there to get pissed at, a lot that deserved some sass thrown, my control snapped and I was going to throw it.

And I opened my mouth to do that but Irv got there before me.

"Weeks, woman, I watched you work yourself up to this shit, fuck," he growled the last word then turned to me. "Knocked her up thirty-seven years ago. Biggest mistake in my life. Keep makin' 'em. She tells me she wants to go see her baby, time has come, here we are. She don't wanna see her baby. She's pissed like she's always pissed and like always, I got no clue why she's pissed. Her son is home, he's married to a beautiful woman, he's gettin' his life back and she's pissed. What the fuck?"

I had no answer to his question but even if I did, I had no shot at answering it, Reece spoke.

"What the fuck, Irv, is that I get here and I see all this." She again flung her arm out, multitasking by flicking the cigarette in her other hand between Irv and me into the street. "Same old shit. Same as always." Her droopy eyes came to me. "This one," she jerked her head to Irv, "served me a lifetime of a whole lotta nothin'. My boy, though, he knows how to get himself somethin'. Does he share? No. God, he gets outta prison and still he's got ways to get himself somethin' and still he does not share."

Irv probably opened his mouth to retort but I was done.

And I communicated this by locking eyes with Ty's mother and throwing some serious fucking sass.

"Go home," I ordered and went on without giving either of them an opening. "And don't come back. I don't know you but I do know you taught your son to make certain he took his dirty dishes to the sink by throwing a glass at him and giving him a scar. Ty's lucky, he's hot and that scar, admittedly, makes him hotter but he's not lucky he's got a mother who'd risk blinding her son in one eye because she's a lunatic with a bad attitude who would throw a glass at a nine year old child and then, years later, after he endured a nightmare, not appear at his door with open arms and a welcome home bouquet but months later show up at his house for the sole purpose of behaving like a bitter shrew and expressing her whacked opinion that she thinks her son owes her shit. My husband does not owe you shit, he does not owe giving you what he's worked hard to earn, he does not owe you his time, he does not owe you one fucking thing. Now go home and do not come back."

She gaped at me but I turned and tipped my head back to Irv.

"You didn't give him much more but I get a sense you get what Ty endured and why he endured it and that shook you. You want a relationship with your son, you build it without her," I jerked my head at Reece, "in attendance. And you do not show uninvited and unexpected. You ask for his time and he gives it to you when and if he's ready."

Then before either of them could reply, not that I'd fucking listen to another word either had to say, I stomped around my new baby, jerked open the door, sat my ass in it, punched the button on the garage door opener and turned on the car. Then I drove in. Then I hit the opener again. Then I carted up the groceries, champagne, cake and my latte, putting the ice cream directly into the freezer, the champagne in the fridge and, after that, setting Shambles's cake on a plate and putting it on the counter of the island by the tees so Ty would see it the minute he got home.

Then I called my husband, shared the trip through the light fantastic that was my first meeting with his parents, listened to his rumbling disbelief and inadvertently calmed his anger by ranting through angry sips of my fast-cooling latte, doing this for some time and with a fair amount of curse words which, for some bizarre reason, eventually led to him cutting me off by roaring with laughter. He then told me he had four college tuitions to earn which calmed my ass down. I let him go so he could get back to work providing for our future family, walked out to the back deck and looked down.

They were gone.

I went back into the house.

The chicken breasts were set to marinade, the salad was prepared, the homemade dressing was fermenting in the fridge and I was sitting out on a lounge chair with my Kindle, reading a romance novel and thinking sex with Ty was way better than what the chick in that novel was getting when something caught at the corner of my eye.

I looked up and across the deck to the side of the house and froze solid.

This was because a wiry black man about two inches taller than me with cornrows in his hair who I'd never seen before in my life was standing there looking jittery.

Shit! What now?

He took a step forward and I visibly braced so he stopped.

"I'm Dewey," he announced and I relaxed, slightly.

I knew Dewey. Well, I didn't know him, know him but Ty had told me about him. I didn't think he was a threat but his being there probably didn't herald good tidings.

I didn't get to say hi. He took four steps toward me and started talking, he did it fast and what he said made me freeze solid again.

"Don't got much time and can't be seen here. But got word that Ty's parole officer is doin' a random inspection of his house. Today. And he's got Fuller with him. They're comin', don't know when they'll get here, could be any minute. Can't be seen goin' to his place of work and someone might be listenin' in on my phone so couldn't call. So I'm here. I 'spect you'll tell him. I also 'spect, he's got somethin' in there they can't see, like, say, somethin' that shoots bullets, you'll deal."

Then, right before my eyes, he disappeared.

Since Ty did, indeed, have something in the house that shot bullets, I didn't delay in twisting in the lounge, dropping my Kindle to the table beside me and snatching up my phone.