at sea, joking and laughing. Seeing the spark come back into Kenna’s eyes caused the tension in my chest to release a bit. She would be just fine. I, on the other hand, would have to fight not to deck Grant Abbot when I saw him in court tomorrow. That family had put Kenna through hell, and now they were doing it all over again.
“Earth to Crosby…”
I turned at Kenna’s call. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you wanted to grab lunch at The Catch before we head home.”
Home. The word had a battle erupting within me, a war between anxiety and joy. I loved that, in some part of her subconscious, Kenna viewed her home as mine, as well. But I didn’t want to be trapped there. I had my own house. One that sat on the bluffs of Anchor, with a killer view and everything just the way I liked it. And didn’t it make me an asshole for thinking that way? I wanted life both ways: free with zero commitments tethering me to the Earth, but I also wanted to come back to Kenna anytime I pleased.
I cleared my throat. “I would never say no to a Guinness and fried food.”
Kenna rolled her eyes heavenward. “It’s a miracle your cholesterol isn’t through the roof.”
I patted my flat stomach. “Healthy as a horse. Come on, let’s head back, now I’m hungry.”
Kenna laughed and started back towards shore. When were we about twenty-five yards away when she muttered a curse. I glanced her way. “What’s wrong?”
She’d stopped paddling and stared at the shore. “Janet.”
Kenna rarely, if ever, used the words Mom or Mother when talking about the woman. But why would she? From the little I knew, Janet had done nothing to earn the terms. The best thing she’d ever done for her daughter was to sign her rights away to Harriet. “Do you want me to ask her to leave?”
“No.” The word came quickly and harshly. “I’ll deal with her. You shouldn’t have to see this mess.”
“Life is messy. I’ve had my share. She’s not going to scare me off.”
Kenna’s jaw worked as she stared at the figure sitting on the picnic bench. “You haven’t experienced one of Janet Morgan’s scenes.”
There was nothing I could say to that. I’d just have to let my actions speak for me. But as we drew closer to shore, I couldn’t help but imagine a little girl whose mother’s episodes constantly embarrassed or scared her. By the time we reached the beach, I had a decent mad going. “Leave the boards here. We can get them after we deal with her.”
Kenna nodded woodenly, setting her paddleboard down beyond the reach of the tide. When she straightened, she gave an almost imperceptible roll of her shoulders. Preparing for battle. I had the sudden urge to stand between her and the woman at the picnic table, but I knew it wouldn’t be appreciated.
Kenna strode towards Janet but stopped a few feet away. “You’re drunk.”
“Whaths it to ya?” Janet slurred as she pushed to her feet. She wobbled and stepped to the side, revealing a tipped-over bottle of Taaka vodka. I winced. She might as well have been drinking jet fuel.
“Please tell me you didn’t drive.”
Janet took a shaky step forward. “I walked, but it’s none of your business. You’re too fancy for your mother now. Harriet thook you, and now you think you’re hot shit. But you’re nothing.”
I stiffened. “Ms. Morgan—”
Kenna held out a hand to stop me. “Do me a favor and grab our stuff, would you?” I didn’t want to take a step away from Kenna. I didn’t trust Janet not to attack her. “Please, Crosby?”
I nodded and jogged to our towels, grabbing them and my keys quickly.
“Got yourself a new fancy boyfriend, huh? Bet this one leaves you, too. Just try not to get knocked up this time.”
Kenna kept every reaction from her face. It was only her clenched hands, knuckles bleached white, that gave away how that blow had landed.
“Go wait in the car.” My thumb had already hit a contact in my phone, and the other line was ringing.
“I’m not going anywhere. Who are you calling?”
“Parker.” The sheriff could deal with this horrible excuse for a human being.
“Oooohhhh,” Janet stumbled back against the bench. “He as hot as you? We gonna have a threesome?”
Parker answered on the third ring. “Hey, Crosby.”
“Any chance you got someone on Anchor?” The chain of islands shared sheriff’s department officers for most of