Spark of Hope (MacKenny Brothers #3) - Kathleen Kelly Page 0,35
sleeping?” I ask Sean.
His lips turn down as he nods at Maddock. “No fucking idea. Let’s humor him.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?”
“Well, that’s because you know me better than anyone.”
“Except me,” chimes in Beth cheerily. “Come on, we don’t want to be the last ones there.”
She grabs Sean’s hand and drags him toward the door.
“Sean,” I say, scowling at him.
He keeps walking and holds up a hand gesturing for me to follow.
Angus slaps me on the back. “Come see who we have stashed at Da’s house.”
Closing my eyes, I open them slowly and tip up my chin. Angus backs away, arms raised, and runs like the coward he can be toward the front of the clubhouse.
“Come on, Logan, before he kicks my ass, and I cry like a baby in front of everyone.”
Jamie chuckles. “Come on, Kyle. The sooner we get to Da’s, the sooner you’ll be a step closer to getting what you want.”
“Besides, you’re going to like the surprise,” says Lochlan as he escorts Annette through the doors.
Fucking family, they can get under your skin like no one else.
In the basement of Da’s house, tied to a chair, is Yvette. The women and Logan are all upstairs. I cast a glance at my family, all of whom are staring at her. Yvette has tape over her mouth, but her eyes are staring daggers at us. Her shoes have blood on them, probably Smokey’s.
“Yvette, I’m going to remove the tape. Don’t scream. No one will hear you, anyway.” Holding up my hand, I point and make a circle. “This whole room is soundproofed.”
Toward the end of Da’s life, his hearing went. He’d have the television so loud that the neighbors complained, so we built this room for him. It’s weird to be down here. I haven’t been in this room since he died. Too many fond memories, and now Yvette Cartland will sour them all.
Pulling on the tape, I slowly peel it away from her lips, trying to be gentle even though she doesn’t fucking deserve it.
“W-Water,” she mumbles.
Sean holds a bottle to her mouth, and she drinks it greedily, letting some spill down her face onto her shirt.
Yvette coughs then shakes her head. “Thank you.”
Sean steps back.
“Yvette, who killed Smokey?”
“How should I know?”
I point at her shoes. “You’ve got blood on your shoes.”
“It’s not his,” she replies defiantly.
“Who’s is it then?” asks Sean.
“Dog died.” Yvette has a smug look on her face as she grins up at him.
“Yvette, no harm will come to you from us. We want to know who killed our man.”
Her gaze comes back to me, and she shrugs. “Word on the street is the Loyal Rebels are hunting for me.”
“Oh, honey, we’re not the only ones.” The smile on her face disappears. “Looks like the Rochas want you, too.”
“Not if you pay our debt, then I’m home and hosed.” Yvette squares her shoulders. “My boys will give you Lola back.”
“We don’t have that kind of money lying around, Yvette.”
“Then that useless bitch is dead.”
I shake my head, unable to understand how a woman could care so little for her own child.
“Do you know where they have her?”
Yvette squints at me and shakes her head. “She was always trouble. Who took care of her when she got pregnant? Who took in the kid when she was too scared to tell you? Me, that’s who,” says Yvette triumphantly.
Maddock pulls a chair closer to her and sits. “This is going to sound like a revelation to you, but as her mother, it’s what you’re supposed to do. You’re meant to help. It’s what family does.”
“Pfft!” Yvette shakes her head. “Lola has only ever looked out for Lola. I went to her and asked for help a month ago. Told her what a good deal we had going with the Rochas. You know what she said to me?” Yvette leans forward in the chair, straining her bonds as she does. “She told me she was taking Logan, that I wasn’t fit to be in his life.” Yvette laughs. “Well, she can have him. I never wanted him in my home. He’s too clingy. I’ve raised my kids. I don’t need to be raising their mistakes.”
“You think Logan is a mistake?”
Yvette nods. “Besides, he wouldn’t let me use him for a hit every now and again.”
Jamie clears his throat. “What does that mean?”
Yvette shrugs. “You know, not everyone is in to women, and I don’t like anal.”
The silence