Die For You - Amarie Avant Page 0,74

gonna kill this one lad before we return to our vows. Simple enough. I remove my shirt, letting it fall along the scuffed wood floor in the hallway. I search the cupboards for a needle and thread. I dinna want to scare Chevelle while I resemble a feckin’ ned. I’ll take a quick shower, clean up, and then head home. Since I’m confident Yates is a one-lad circus, I doubt he’ll reach out to the cops. He probably found another rock to hide under. It would be nice if that rock overturned a couple of four-leaf clovers, and the greedy bastard just runs off with the money he’d filched from Phelps.

Though I’m determined to wash and sew myself up quickly, I decide another person watching my lasses is a good thing. I ring Firth.

While the water in these rusted pipes is getting hot, I wait for his answer.

“Firth, I need a favor,” I order, chewing on a Tylenol.

In a cool tone, he asks, “Wit?”

Clearly, he’s still not over the midges. “Head to my house. Right now.”

“Nae. I’m following my brathair.”

“Erika and James were supposed to follow ‘em. Och, feck it.” I hang up. I’m digging through the hall closet for a towel when my cousin Blythe answers. He agrees to check in on the house. While I trust Camdyn to keep my wee clan safe, I need to stay on guard.

I leave Chevelle a short text that I’ll be home soon. Climbing into the shower, I wash off the blood and glare at the wee wound. Three minutes later, I wrap a towel around me and sit on the bathroom counter. I’m looping the string for the stitches when there’s movement at the front door. Clutching the towel in one hand, I grab my gun, hop down, and move along the hallway. The front door, located near the refrigerator, opens. The redhead I’ve ignored strolls in.

“Och, Erika?”

“Aye, Leith is back!” She raises her arms with a silly smile on her face. “I had to see this shite with my own eyes. Ye’re one of us now! Not afraid to get down and dirty.”

I ignore her. “Wit are ye doin’ here, lass? Ye’re supposed to be following Knox.”

“Eh, and visit my da? Feck that.” She leaves the door wide open, coming closer to me. Eyeing my rib, she mumbles, “Shite, that’s gonna leave a scar. Ya need help?”

“Nae. I got it.” I head to the bathroom to grab the needle and thread.

When I return to the kitchen, she gestures with her hands. “Are ye still hot ‘bout Chevelle and me?”

“Nae. Just need to make myself look more presentable. Then I’m headed home.”

Her eyebrows pinch together. “Home? But Brody told me we were celebrating yer accomp—”

“Little Brody needs to shut his feckin’ geggie! I’m guessing he’s telling ya the wrong information. I had the eejit I’m looking for trapped. I’ll get ‘em again. Party's postponed.”

Erika places a brown-paper bag on the counter. “Hmmm, so Chevelle’s seeing things the clan way.”

I ignore her question. With my back against the cupboards, I hold my towel together with one hand. The other hand presses against the countertop, and I hoist myself onto the ledge.

Rolling her eyes, Erika stalks to the door she’d left open in her surprise.

“Erika, leave the screen door open. It’s one of those nights, ya know?”

“Aye.” She clicks her tongue, walking back to the cupboard. I grab a few glasses as she removes vodka from the bag. “When Brody told me tonight, I was halfway to the state border. Turned around. Knox and Firth got a couple of good heids on their shoulders. So, I told myself I’ll see to this. My da can give me a black eye for not being there.”

“Ewan still hounding ya?” I take the bottle from her hand. The dull ache in my side intensifies as I let the liquid run down my wound.

“Yeah.” She frowns and nods, setting up our glasses as I hand the bottle over. “A wee bit. Better now that I’m under Big Brody and Nan’s wings.”

“Aye, he likes to keep an eye on his good friends.” I pull the needle through my skin, getting to work.

“Sheesh, Leith, that was an underhanded statement.”

I give her a pointed look. “McFarlands have to make sure us MacKenzies are in order. We’re feckin’ dogs. There I said it. Wasn’t being sly, Erika. But if ye feckin’ need blunt, there ya go.”

“Hmmm.” She hands over my cup then takes a generous sip of her own. “Aye, right.

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