“In this he does,” Graham refuted, then nodded back to Doogan. “Let’s make sure the building’s secure before we get into this, Dawg. Make sure Zoey’s safe first.”
Make sure Zoey was safe first. What the hell was going on?
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Zoey pushed at Doogan’s arm with her shoulder, indicating her insistence that they keep moving. Get it over with and get everyone out of her house. She needed to recoup; she needed to figure out how to handle the memories that had been shrouded in nightmares and the nightmares that hid the memories.
“Graham, get hold of Sam; I want her here now.” Doogan pulled Zoey behind him as he indicated that the other man should follow him in the direction of Zoey’s room. “She has twenty minutes. I’ll check Zoey’s room, then meet the rest of you in the living area.” He turned to Zoey as he stopped at her doorway, his expression commanding. “Stay here, let me check it out, and then you can shower or whatever you need to do.”
“And let you have all the fun by yourself?” She mocked him. “I don’t think so.”
For a second, an amused grin tilted his lips. “Fun? Is that what we’re calling your family today?”
The low, almost intimate tone of his voice soothed that rising panic inside her just enough to allow her to give him a little smile in return. Her stomach was still jumpy, though, nerves eating at her self-control, and it was all she could do to keep her hands from shaking.
“I’ll check your room. Wait here for me.” Doogan drew
her to the wall next to her bedroom door. “This will take just a few minutes.”
She almost rolled her eyes. “Really, Doogan?”
“Really, Zoey,” he assured her, a glower beginning to darken his expression. “This has nothing to do with ability and everything to do with someone trying to force you into destroying yourself. Admit this is a battle you need help with.”
Pressing her lips together tightly, she watched as her brother and cousins carefully checked the rest of the apartment. Rowdy and Natches were slipping into the spare guest room while Eli stepped cautiously into his own. And they were all armed. Just as she should have been.
Her bedroom door opened and Doogan stepped out, his expression still somber, his dark brown eyes still worried.
“It’s clear,” he promised, stepping back and allowing her inside. “Why don’t you let me take care of this, Zoey?”
A mocking laugh fell from her lips. “When did you decide you had a death wish?” She shook her head, glancing into the apartment to see her brother and cousins converging in the kitchen. “No. You don’t handle the Mackays, Doogan. That was your first mistake.” She turned her gaze back to him, betrayal slicing at her as vague, barely-there memories of him and Sam began filtering through the shadows of her mind.
His jaw clenched, his gaze becoming hard and cool once more. “Of course you do, darling,” he drawled. “The same way you handle any other wild animal. Look it in the eye, growl deeper, and be prepared to bite harder.”
She would have laughed if she’d had anything even approaching humor left inside her right then.
“Try honesty first,” she whispered painfully. “It works wonders.”
“Does it really?” His fingers curled firmly around her upper arm as she started to turn away from him, holding her in place and sending a rush of pleasure from his touch racing through her.
She was so weak. Why did his touch affect her as it did? Why couldn’t she deny him as she’d denied so many other men in the past?
“I hate to disagree with you, sweetheart, but honesty doesn’t work with that fucking drug they pumped into you that night or the suggestions they left in your very complicated little brain,” he informed her, his voice gruff. “So until you’ve remembered every fucking whisper they planted there, don’t assume you can judge me, or my level of honesty toward you. Doing so could well end up being disastrous.”
Her heart was racing, his suggestion causing her head to ache further, the disjointed memories to slip through her mind like shadows, there then gone, never staying in one place long enough to force them to make sense.
Doogan stepped back, the icy chill in his gaze only growing deeper as Rowdy stepped to the doorway.
“Sis?” he questioned her, the compassion and concern in his voice and expression causing her heart to clench.
He and Natches had taken her and her sisters to their hearts just as Dawg had. They weren’t cousins in the Mackay males’ eyes. They were sisters to all of them, just as they were more brothers than cousins.
Doogan held her gaze; the warning she could see in the dark depths caused her throat to tighten and trepidation to rise. This wasn’t over by a long shot. And she had a very bad feeling that she still hadn’t remembered nearly enough.
“You have five minutes,” Doogan told her. “But have no doubt, Zoey, the days of protecting those men in there from their own natures is over, as far as you’re concerned. They’re big boys. It’s time to let them face the fact that you’re probably more of a Mackay than any of your sisters ever thought to be. That, or put your damned head down and deny everything you’ve fought for in the past five years. Marry their choice of man for you and settle down to having babies and being the nice, safe sister Dawg dreams of.”
Zoey flinched at the suggestion. “You’re an asshole, Doogan.”
“And I take great pride in the fact.” His gaze sliced to Rowdy before a hard smile tugged at his lips. “But then, I’m not alone, am I?”
Doogan strode from her bedroom, his shoulders straight, his expression so arrogant and damned confident it made her back teeth clench.