Lenox pov Alrighty then, if no one gives me at least one update within right about the next thirty seconds, I’m about to flip. I knew mom’s pregnancy was complicated, especially given her age and the damn age gap between her children, but what the fuck? “Do I need to pull out my spoon for some fucking answers or can we do this is a civil manner, without involving my motherfucking spoon?” I hear myself grunt before I register I spoke up. My brothers and fathers look at me weirdly, but just shrug off my question, which, I’m not going to lie, pisses me off even more. I reach behind my back to pull the silver spoon out of the knife holster when Luka raises an eyebrow at me. “Don’t tell me you actually carry the spoon around,” he doesn’t seem too pleased with the possibility, so being me, I opt for the best answer there could be- a lie. “Nope, I’m just scratching my back,” I grin at him and wave my hand, which quite frankly, feels fucking empty without that spoon pressing against
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