“Cam, I’m pretty sure you’re smiling right now with that charming voice. You’re sneaky. Cut the bull. Anyway, let me spell this out. Michie’s mixed up with the yakuza.”
“This a fucking movie?” he growls.
“Could be. Help a sister out.”
“I’ll do my best.” The call ends.
In half a second, I’ve unblocked Leith. I press the button as a tumbleweed rolls past me.
While FaceTiming Leith, I call Brody over. He holds up a double-sized duffle bag with a sardonic glower.
“Brody, get your ass over here, please.”
My husband’s older brother strides leisurely as the call continues to trill and then disconnect. I’m on a third attempt while explaining to Brody Leith’s motivation. His response is in tandem with Camdyn’s then he glances me up and down.
"Well, my brathair must have a reason to go after the lad? Seeing how ye must've run straight to the arsehole’s arms after Leith’s and Erika's innocent hug? Why'd the guy give ye a wee sword, piuthar bheag?"
Again, my nemesis calls me 'little sister' while shooting a pair of paranoid daggers my way.
"I didn't cheat on Leith. Now, listen, asshole!" I give Brody the same spiel as I did Camdyn, mentioning the yakuza. Brody’s tone changes.
A fuzzy image shows up on the FaceTime screen. Leith is leaning back in the Chevelle SS. He’s one handing the steering wheel while his red-rimmed eyes glare at me. A slight stubble shadows his face, around his lips.
My heart crumbles into tiny pieces at the sight of him.
“Wit, Chevelle?”
“Baby, pull over. Talk to me.”
“We’re done talking, aye? Now, it’s time for me to step into my destiny. Be the man who gets shite done.” His voice thunders, picking up speed, each word cracking with venom. “The man whose wife follows orders: keep my house clean, teach my daughter how to be a lass, shite like that. Not a disobedient hen who fecks some arsehole who only wants to use ye.” What? Follows order? I can’t understand Leith. Realization hits me. He probably never slept last night.
“Baby, I’m not with Michie. I’m with Brody. You need sleep,” I beg. “You’re not thinking straight. You’re tired. When I get back—”
“Nae.” His striking gaze slides from the windshield to me.
“Baby, please keep your eyes on the road,” I implore him.
Instead of complying, Leith grapples me with his gaze. “Nae, I invested too much in this relationship. Ye married the bawbag who’ll never, ever, let ye go!”
My mouth pulls in, pensive. “You know good and damn well that you didn’t marry the woman who follows orders, nor did you marry the one who steps out on her family, Leith. I feel nothing for Michie. Stop it. Go home. You’re sleep-deprived.”
The car kicks into high gear. “Hen, ye know I’d die for ye, but today, I’d rather come out the victor with this nice wee sword of yers. See ye soon, love.”
Chapter 54
Leith
There’s banging on the door to my auld bedroom. Before I slept like the deid, I’d positioned my dresser against the broken door. I made myself a makeshift barricade. Nobody’s gonna play break Leith’s baws while he tries to get a few winks in. I’m not gonna run around with no brain in my head. My wife shouts to open up. The door moves a fraction of an inch. It leans on the dresser.
“Please, Leith.” She has softened her tone. Thought so.
I rub my eyes, get up, and move the dresser away. The bedroom door falls. Chevelle gestures as if she’s trying to stop it in the last second. With a sigh, she shrugs her shoulders.
My eyes roam over her body. Then I head back to the bed. “Ye look tired.”
“You look like shit, Leith. What have you—?”
“A well-rested piece of shite, hen.” I lie on my back. Smiling, I stitch my fingers together behind my head. “And happy too.”
Fingers shaking, Chevelle picks up the sword I left discarded on the middle of the floor and gasps. Blood dribbles across the blade, pooling on the wooden floor.
I glower into her widened eyes. “Wit are ye gonna do with that?”
Her fingers shake. “Did you—?”
“Did ye love him?” I snarl.
“No!” She drops it, and the blade clatters on the floor. “I was in love with a crazy, funny, ridiculously handsome Scot—my entire life.”
“Ye were?” My eyebrow lifts in contemplation.
“I am,” she ruffles her hair, “so, in love with you it hurts. It took these past few days to put it all in perspective. To see how I have planted you at the