which I judged my future husband. Damn, all I saw from him was the standard. How I hate that he missed the Father-Daughter dance. I hate him for it. And I hate myself for not having the capacity to numb myself on Momma’s behalf.
With one swipe of my palm across the island countertop, all the ingredients shatter against the marble floor. Amid the sound of a billion jagged shards fragmenting, I exhale. Dangerously sprinkled over the marble floor are the pieces of my heart that never belonged to Leith MacKenzie. I still love my father with all the broken pieces. It’s a shame that I’ll never tell a soul.
While grabbing the broom, the water I fought flows from my eyes freely. As I sweep, the good times and the one single nightmare that tore it all apart vanish from before my eyes. I dry my cheeks, sweeping away the tears.
“There,” I tell myself, releasing a cleansing breath. I mumble the credo that’s gotten me through many years of life: “I’m good.”
Chapter 18
Leith
The sky’s as black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat when I drum my palms on the driver’s side window of a Chevy Colorado. Startled awake, my cousin Firth hits the horn. As the alarming sound resonates along the still street, he instinctively wraps his grubby paws around the Glock in his lap.
I watch his incompetent arse heave a sigh at the sight of me. The window zips down. “Wit the feck, Leith?”
I point a stiff finger. “This is how ye watch me house, eh?”
“Och. First, I’m doin’ ye a favor,” Firth begins, running a hand along his ginger beard. “Second, I could’ve watched the wife while inside the comfort of yer home. Third, yer da came by around midnight with Mia. I didna know whether to wave or duck down in my truck.”
At my wits’ end, I rest my forearms on the window ledge. “Firth, did he see ya?”
“Nae.”
“Then shut the feck up ‘bout it.”
Steam billows from his ears, and while he sasses me, I mind the conversation I had with Knox earlier. They envision me as a man divided between my loyalty to the clan and devotion to my wife and wee wean. Well, feck their perception. I’m not them; I’m me. Same as I told my brathairs tonight on the way from Phelps’ home. Brody vocalized his anger that I kept him in the dark. Camdyn took up his cellphone, saying when I was ready to tell him, he’d be there.
Him? My feckin’ wee brathair. Nae, thank ye.
“Ye done?” I cut into his outburst.
“Ye auld crabbit.” Firth mutters about my lack of appreciation, sifting around his jean pocket for his keys.
As I tap the roof of the truck, a nod of my head is all the ‘thanks’ he’ll get.
He whispers into the night, “I’m gonna take a jobby—shit—in yer coffee next time I see ye.”
“Och, ye’re taking it there, aye?” The bloody bawbag’s gonna shite in my coffee! I click my tongue, gripping the driver’s side window ledge and taunt. “Here’s yer feckin’ jobby, and I raise ye a swarm of midges! Aye! I hope ye get attacked by midges next time we visit our clan back home. How ‘bout that, Firth?”
Satisfied that I’ve won the argument, I turn and meander along the sidewalk toward the house.
The truck inches along next to me. “I wouldn’t wish midges on my worst enemy. Leith, ye take that back!”
“Nae.”
The engine stalls as he frets. “I’ll tell Nan!”
I laugh. “Run along, clipe. Tell my mam everything!”
“I’m nae snitch!” Cursing the day I was born, he drives away. I chuckle to myself. A big three-hundred-pound bastard like him, scared of midges, wee flies. Well, I’m six-feckin’-two, and I’m afraid of ‘em too. Those insects’ll ruin yer life. Some countries have crocodiles. Others have tigers. In Scotland, young or auld, we run from midges. Our entire country is utterly and rightly terrified of those blood-suckin’ pests.
Inside the house, it is just as dark. Cock hard, palms itching for the feel of my wife’s soft body, I stroll into our bedroom.
“Chevelle,” I groan, kicking one boot off after the other. “Wake up, hen. I need ya.”
Now, me being me, and my wife being a wee crabby in the middle of the night, I lay it on thick. While undressing, I tell her all the things I’ll do to her. My dick, her mouth. My tongue, her wet slit. Might not sound like the words they use in those books she reads, but the