Die For You - Amarie Avant Page 0,16

of my clan, but he underestimates us. Hmmm, us. It’d be so much easier enlisting my clan's help, but I’d rather kill the bastard myself. Da respects my ability to walk in a feckin’ straight line. Seeing how I already screwed my vow to Chevelle to shite, I just have to finish this. Once complete, I’ll be the reputable guy in the family, again.

Chapter 9

Chevelle

I’ll admit to churning in an ocean of jealousy when I first met Erika. I don’t buy into the absurdity of hating the female race, just because. I had my reasons for hating her, such as I’d been slim and trim until my seventh month of pregnancy when she waltzed into town, tiny and hot. A mix of hormones and a whole lot of baby weight did me in. Plus, the whole Leith and Scotland thing. The two of us have never meshed, even after four years of holidays and birthdays in our shared family.

Now, I meander alongside the wrought iron racks in the wine cellar, searching for a conversational wine. Instead, my fingertips trail over a bottle of whiskey. I hold it out to Camdyn as he comes to lean against the door. He’s in a long-sleeve thermal tonight, which hides the range of tattoos over his entire arm.

His hair is shaved on the sides, but the top flops into his striking blue eyes. Out of all Leith’s brothers, Camdyn reminds me of my husband the most. Polite to females. Often quiet, though, he has a short fuse.

Camdyn gestures toward the bottle. “Thanks, but nobody’s coming to get me tonight. They say it’s too far from Lakewood.”

“Damn, Speed Racer, when they suspended your license and chopped it into bits, I heard your heart break. Cam, tell me, does it still hurt?”

“Heh, I don’t need a license to drive. I just don’t feel like borrowing one of your neighbors’ rides tonight.” He winks.

“One day, your ass is gonna understand the concept of consequences, you little thief.”

“Tsk, take that back, Chevelle. I thought we were friends.”

Chuckling, I start to place the expensive whiskey back into the slot, then mumble, “I’m not letting this go to waste. Forget shot glasses. Can you reach those plastic cups on the top shelf? Leith thinks everyone can reach them.”

“Damn, now I recall why you’re my favorite sister-in-law.” With ease, Camdyn plucks the red Solo cups from up high, then follows me from the wine cellar.

“First of all, I’m your only sister-in-law. Second, who says the third cup is yours? I might have a cup in my left and right hand while drinking with Erika.”

Ten minutes later, Camdyn, Erika, and I are seated at a stone table on the far side of the deck. The salty wind feels good against my shoulders as Camdyn stacks up the wooden Jenga blocks into a tower.

“Let’s make this fun, weans,” Erika suggests. “We’re playing two truths and a lie.”

“Weans?” I glare, remembering how she never made it easy for me to like her.

“Who’s going first?”

I open up my mouth, but Camdyn shrugs. He can sense the unresolved tension between us and sacrifices himself, saying, “I’ll go. I’ve wrecked two Honda Accords. I’ve had four broken bones. I’ve been bitten by a viper.”

“Easy, no snake bite,” I reply.

Moonlight glints off Erika’s attentive green eyes. “I’m gonna agree with Chevelle. We can’t have the lass be the only one sloshed when the guys return.”

“How are you certain I’m wrong?” I demand. “Besides, it takes a lot to get me drunk. I’m a bartender, remember.”

“Och, ye were. I remember.”

Oh, so now, I’m just a housewife? Leveling her a stony glower, I tip back the whiskey straight from the bottle. Already irritated with us arguing, Camdyn groans, checking off the names of broken bones with his finger. “Had an ankle fracture after a motorcycle accident, broke my arm, twice, dirt bike riding.”

Erika seizes the bottle straight from my lips and guzzles it down.

Frustrated by his ignored attempt to keep the peace, Camdyn mutters, “With you broads doing all your lip flapping, I’m the one who needs this most.” He delivers the same impatient treatment to Erika by snatching the bottle and dominating it.

“Feck ye, laddie. Now, wit was it?” she asks.

After taking the bottle to the head, Camdyn runs the back of his hand along his mouth. “The two of you need to listen. Neither one of your asses has balls. Calm the fuck down. My friend had a pet viper. That bitch got me good.”

“See, we were wrong.”

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