anyone to use as financial leverage.” He thought back over their conversations and landed on something she’d said. “Your sister Marian, you said she’s with your father?”
“Daddy’d never give up Marian. She’s the glue what holds his household together. He’s said it countless times.”
“But what does Marian want? How much older is she?”
“I don’t know for sure. She was from Daddy’s second wife. Maybe ten years older? I don’t know.”
“That’s okay. We’ll get the boys, and then we can find and talk to her about what she wants.” Jaw clenched, he tried to reassure her about a situation he didn’t have any real knowledge of. “It’ll take us a couple of days, max.”
“Bane.” Myrt leaned back again, fingers clutching his shirt, this time holding tight instead of pushing away. “You can’t try to save my whole family.”
“You say try like it’s not a given I’ll succeed.” He offered her a smile, happy to see the frown creasing her brow relax, smoothing out. “Maybe Marian won’t take the offer. Doesn’t mean I won’t make damn sure she understands it’s there and waiting if she wants it. Also doesn’t come with a time limit. If she decided five years down the road she wanted something different, better, I’d be there to make sure she had opportunity.”
“Vanna said you were a good man.”
“Vanna exaggerates sometimes.” He let the corner of his mouth curl a little to show he wasn’t being serious. “You shouldn’t listen to her about me.” He dipped his head, bringing his face closer to Myrt’s. Close enough he could feel the heat of her blush, the delicate ghosting touch of her breath across his lips. Bane adjusted, angling his hips away so she wasn’t confronted by his self-serving interest in making her smile. “Listen to me about me. I won’t ever lie to you.”
“Promise?” It felt as if she were asking a thousand questions with the one word. Like she’d stretched an arm into the future and was plucking at the strings that were tangling, tying them together.
He gave it back to her, completely invested in his response, something he would stand by for the rest of his life.
“Promise.”
Chapter Seven
Myrtle
She rounded the corner into Vanna’s bedroom, drawn there by Vanna’s hand holding hers, led up and away from the kitchen filled with a conversation still going on between Bane and Sharon. As their voices dimmed with distance, she rolled her shoulders, suddenly aware of how tense she’d become.
Vanna stopped next to a mirrored dresser and pulled out the tiny stool hidden in the kneehole. “Sit,” she commanded. The steel in her voice shouldn’t have been a surprise, given everything Myrt knew about Vanna, but it startled her into movement, her bottom meeting the fabric cover of the stool with a thump. Vanna disappeared for an instant. Through the open door, the splashing of running water preceded Vanna coming out of the bathroom with a dampened rag in hand.
Myrt startled again when Vanna reached past her to pick up a brush. “Hush, child. We need to think while we talk, and I’ve always thought best when I had something to do.” She arranged Myrt’s locks so they draped over her shoulders, stroking the length with the flat side of the brush. “I have fond memories of sitting at this very vanity while my mother talked me through some hard decisions. Different house, but the vibe is still the same.” Vanna chuckled and started drawing the bristles of the brush through Myrt’s hair. “To my teenaged self, the most devastating thing was being asked to the prom by the wrong boy.” She rested her wrists on Myrt’s shoulders, leaning down to whisper near her ear, “Your decisions are a long sight more critical, methinks.”
Myrt’s head drooped on her neck, chin angled down so she could see her hands twisting in her lap. “I don’t know what to do.” She swallowed, hating how her throat made sounds, the scarcely stifled sobs betraying her emotions. “I know what I want to do, but I don’t know how it can happen.”
“Tell me what you want to happen.” The steady drag of the brush through her hair was soothing, a dependable pull that was easily resisted, Myrt able to hold her head steady and still. “Don’t think, not yet. Just tell me.”
“I want to go to the holler and make sure my brothers are safe.”
Each stroke evenly spaced, the movement of the brush in Vanna’s hand was hypnotizing.
Myrt found herself opening up to Vanna about all