“Stop it. Please. I’m begging you.”

“I was only trying to—”

“I know. And I appreciate it. I adore you for it. But…stop talking.”

“Fine. Be that way.” Sissy walked to the stove. “What do you want to drink? Milk, juice, or sweet tea?”

“Tea.”

Sissy nodded while she put some of the mac and cheese on a plate and put it in front of Mitch. From the refrigerator, she pulled out the salad she’d made and a pitcher of sweet tea. When she turned around, Mitch was still staring at the plate of food she’d put in front of him. He didn’t seem worried about his mother anymore as much as simply disgusted.

“Is there a problem?”

“There’s ham in it.”

“Yeah. So?”

“I hate ham in my mac and cheese.”

“You haven’t even tried it.”

“I don’t need to try it to know I don’t like it.”

Sissy rolled her eyes. “Do you like ham?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like mac and cheese?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like them mixed together.” He stared down at his plate like a five-year-old looking at a vat of broccoli.

Sissy walked to the table and slammed the bowl and pitcher down on it.

“Take a bite.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Mitchell Shaw, you take a bite right now. If you don’t like it, then fine. But you’ll goddamn try it first.”

Clearly disgruntled, Mitch picked up his fork and poked at his food for a bit.

“Mitchell. Shaw.”

“Okay. Okay.” His mouth twisted in disgust, Mitch put a forkful of her mac and cheese into his mouth. He started to chew, and she watched him. She waited for it. And like with most things, she wasn’t disappointed.

“Wow,” he said after he swallowed. “That’s…that’s…”

“Really good?”

“Amazing.”

She grinned. “I know. That’s the best mac and cheese—with or without ham—that you’ll ever have. So enjoy it since I don’t cook very often. Now eat.”

He did, too.

While Sissy watched, Mitch went through the mac and cheese—even what she’d left on the stove—the salad, and the pitcher of sweet tea like he hadn’t eaten in years.

Glancing around at the empty bowls and dishes in front of him, Mitch frowned. “Got anything else?”

Sissy blinked. “Anything else?”

“I’m still a little hungry.”

“Is this normal for you?”

“No, no.” Mitch peeled melted cheddar cheese offthe near-empty baking dish and tossed it in his mouth. “I usually eat a lot more until the stress started getting to me. But you’ll see. When I get my hunger back.”

Sissy calculated the money everyone had handed her before she’d left and the few dollars she had in her wallet.

Depending on how long they stayed, she may have to start getting their food the old-fashioned way…running it down and ripping it open herself.

Travis slammed the hood down on the twenty-year-old Ford truck his cousin had dropped off the night before and looked at the typically freaked-out Jackie. If he wasn’t blood, Travis would slap him around on principle. But he was family, and Travis couldn’t afford for his weakness to make the rest of them look weak. So he kept Jackie close and used him to do things he and Donnie didn’t want to. Like sending him to find out what Sissy was up to. He’d known even before he sent Jackie there what would happen.

Sometimes he was such a bastard.

“So Sissy slapped the shit out of you—again. What do you want me to do about it?”

“She did not.”

That was true. It had been little brother Sammy. Next to Bobby Ray and their daddy, Sammy was the only one who could get a leash on Sissy. Still, Sammy had a thing about calling a spade a spade. Or in Sissy’s case, a whore a whore. It was the one thing that brought out his rarely used temper with Donnie and Jackie. Although he’d never try that shit with Travis. Not if he liked having two working legs.

“I thought you would have gone over there by now,” Jackie whined. “Told her to get out.”

“Is that right?” Travis picked up the team’s playbook from the counter and flipped through the pages. They had practice this afternoon, and he wanted to be prepared. The upcoming game was one of their most important.

“She’s got the cat,” Jackie insisted.

“A sick cat. Throw her out now, and I just look like a son of a bitch. Wait until he’s at least walkin’.”

“If he were real bad, Sissy would have taken him to the hospital over in Waynesburg,” Donnie explained, easily moving out from under the car raised above his head. Travis and Donnie coowned Smithtown’s main repair shop. It was a good living, and Donnie didn’t piss Travis off too much, which he did appreciate.

“Gotta play this smart, boys.” Travis looked between his brothers. “She’s alone. She ain’t got Smitty or Daddy or those She-bitches of hers. And Sammy ain’t no real threat. It’s just little ol’ Sissy and a sickly cat.”

Travis stepped away from his kin and looked out the garage door at the clean, quiet streets of his town. “It’ll be pure pleasure bringing that little bitch down.”