Knox runs his middle finger across his eyebrow. He has half of his usual retort out of his mouth, “the boring one,” when my elbow lifts, thumping against his thick neck. I pretend to yawn as he hacks.
“Shite, those muscle spasms.” I laugh.
My cousin fakes his last cough, launching from his chair. A crystal ball isn’t necessary to see him coming. Camdyn and more of my other cousins hold him back.
Da complains. I mutter how much we all love each other.
Brody cuts in. “Knox, ye and one more of yer brathairs follow my rig. Nae bright cars, ye nuggets. Now, Mia, let’s get outta here.” Brody squeezes her in his arms. “None of these neds can spar like yer uncle, aye?”
“Uhn-uh, Uncle Brody.” She smiles up at him. “My daddy beat all your a―!”
“Mia!” I say in unison with Da and Mam. Brody claps a palm over her silly face, and they exit the room. I rest my hands on the table and heave a sigh. My daughter will be the death of me. With the usual rowdiness out of the way, I glare at Erika then cock my head.
She rolls her eyes, following me into the hallway. Erika leans against an accent table. “I thought ye were done with me?”
I glower at her. “I am! I’m just warning ye not to piss off Chevelle again.”
“Leith, alls I was tryin’ to do was get ‘er to open up a little. She’s clan.”
“Nae, she’s not. She’s mine, all mine. That has nothing to do with clan talk or yer bullshite about us being best friends.” I glance down at my cell phone.
“Stop being a crabbit, Leith! We are the best of friends.”
There are two missed calls from the same number. When I look up to excuse myself, Erika’s face softens. I haven’t seen this look since I’d shared the last bottle of fizzy juice with Erika as we sat in the rain. Her da, Ewan McFarland, popped her face in front of all our clans. On the lassie’s fourteenth birthday, no less. Tears were in her eyes. I knew the truth even though she wouldn’t admit to it. She’d leaned close. I shake the thought out of my head. The tender look remains. Though she’s always dressed in leather, I often forget she’s a feckin’ lass.
“Nae, Erika. We’re not best friends.”
Erika’s expression changes. A smirk is accompanied by a roll of her eyes, total sarcasm. Erika wasn’t always an arsehole. She grew into one. But Chevelle doesn’t understand that, and I’ll not have my hen wondering. I’ll not repeat the mistakes I made with my older brathair.
I regret not putting Brody in his place long ago. He was a jackass to Chevelle. But while I thought it was older brathair nugget behavior, since we all pretty much grew up together, I hadn’t noticed how his actions hurt Chevelle until she tossed her engagement ring at me.
The thought of not having my hen in my life was the scariest thing I’d ever gone through. Also, the bullshite Brody tried at my bachelor party had me on a rampage. It took me a while to realize how disrespected that incident made Chevelle feel.
“Really?” Her expression changes again. The tender look returns. Erika’s voice quivers. “I’ve known ye since we could walk. Since we all lived back home.”
“Nae, Erika,” I repeat myself. “I can’t have ye talkin’ to her like that.” The truth seems to sink in hard, but I blink. The only emotion the lass will get from me.
Her green eyes shine from unfallen tears. I can see family photos from the walls in the depths of them. I can also see my impassive facial expression.
Erika points a stiff finger at herself. “But I can watch Chevelle and Mia when ye’re in Silicon Valley? Why? Why me if I’m not yer best friend outside yer brathairs?”
“Erika.” I tap her cheeks with my fingertips. For a fraction of a second, she lights up. The truth seems to penetrate as she lowers her gaze. I redirect her eye contact. Mine are a pair of daggers. “Ye didna have to do it.”
The flesh along her jaw grows taut with anger. “And we call Cam, the American. Look at ye, nae bloody emotion.”
“Aye and aye,” I reply, walking away. With my point driven home, I’m about to start up the stairs when she speaks again.
“McFarland and MacKenzie clans have supported each other for over a hunner years, Leith. I