Yates comfortable, Leith, I’d love to meet him before his last breath.”
“I will.” I stand. It’s time to pull off the feckin’ duct tape and stitch myself up.
“Yer father and I will handle the Romans for Chevelle.”
For Chevelle? Wit? Instantly, I’m rendered speechless. On a pair of weak legs, my arse finds the seat. My gaze tracks between my parents. Mam has reclaimed her affectionate demeanor since mentioning Yates’ death. Even Da does not regard me with utter shame, but he’s not looking my way at all. Something’s wrong.
“Wit are ye talking ‘bout?” I demand. “My wife has nothing to do with this.”
Da tosses a daggered gaze in my direction. “She may very well have nothing to do with the Yates fellow who slipped through yer fingers. But our darling daughter-in-law, whom we love and will always protect, has everything to do with the warning we just received.”
Mam runs a hand along Da’s jaw. “That’s not fair, Big Brody. Those were her father’s sins that angered the Romans. Years after his death, though, I can’t make heids or tails of it. But aye, we will right the wrongs of Chevelle’s father.”
Chapter 47
Chevelle
Not hearing a sound, I slip out of the guest bedroom. I make my way upstairs, meandering along the hallway. Memories of whispering with Leith and the sound of my heartbeat when he snuck me into his old bedroom flood my thoughts. How could he set fire to our happiness? The thought of him with Erika runs deeper than I can even discern. It’s a visceral, toxic fear.
For the thousandth time, my mind toys with how my momma missed opportunities to leave Daddy. She could have saved her own life, my misery too.
I move swiftly down the hall and knock on Jamie’s door. He opens it and greets me with a hug. Since he’s unaware of my sneaking around, I step inside, pulling the door closed behind me.
I’m attacked with hugs by all of Leith’s brothers. Lachlan and Rory are on the verge of tears. Nine-year-old Jake, who’s the youngest, has a bottom lip that won’t stop trembling.
“C’mon, Jake, you’re okay.” I kiss the top of his head. “You did good, keeping your niece safe.”
Jamie begins to mutter, “He didn’t do any—”
I give him a wink as Mia jostles herself up my leg. I reach down, one arm around her, pulling her up. She’s so tiny and soft that I gulp down the fear of losing her.
“You mean so much to me.” I glance at them all. “You’re all such good kids. I love you boys so much.”
“Are ya leaving my brother?” Jamie asks.
Not sure. I shake my head and settle onto the computer chair at the desk and pull out my phone.
I never had a sister, but Justice has weaseled herself into a similar role. I try her number but have to leave a voicemail. Reluctantly, I apologize for how I haven’t reached out since her move, then chicken-out of telling her why I called.
Chewing my lip, I watch the children. Jamie’s morose eyes keep looking at me for confirmation that all’s well.
I can’t walk away from Leith today, no matter how momentarily satisfying it would be to hurt him—because hurt people hurt people. I can’t cry here because if he sees even the faintest puffiness or red-rimmed eyes, I’ll break.
“Did you guys eat breakfast?” I ask. Though mixing a drink centers me, and I doubt I’ll ever be sane again, I decide cooking could do the same.
“No,” Jake cuts in. “We eat at school.”
Rory says, “I think class started already, though.”
Mia brags, “I had McDonalds.”
Her declaration breeds a riot amongst the brothers. Laughing, I have to calm them all down. Funny how food invokes such positive emotions.
“What about pancakes?” I place on the same smile I’d give patrons at the bar. I could be half-dead inside and pop a grin on my face.
“Uh, yeah!” Mia and Jake say in unison.
As I stifle a yawn, I’m getting orders for various kinds of cereal. Jamie, the eldest of the bunch, wants a ham and cheese omelet. I consent to everyone’s personal order like I’m the cook at your run-of-the-mill diner. A distraction will help us all.
“We need to talk,” Leith orders. It’s almost two hours later because some pancakes required chocolate chips, others nuts. Lachlan, who’s allergic to nuts, wanted oatmeal. So, now, I’m shoving another pot that had oatmeal into the sink.
“Chevelle, I need ye to be reasonable.”
“Let’s not go there, Leith.” I toss the wooden spoon into