“Everything’s fine,” I mutter.
“Is Erika dead?” Lachlan whispers.
“She ain’t dead,” Jamie cuts in.
“Nae. She’s strong.” I start to rustle his hair. When he doesn’t stop me, much as he’s been doing recently, I finish by pulling him into a hug.
“Everything’ll work out.” I wink, punching his chest softly. “Be tough.”
Da must not have taken Lachlan under his wing yet. I crouch down in front of Mia.
“That was so much fun, Daddy. Uncle Cam jumped me, and then we army crawled around! I’ve never—”
“Wheesht!” I snarl. Her excitement’s infuriating.
While Mia’s bottom lip trembles, tears as fresh as the water in the loch gleam across her face.
“Och, lassie, forgive yer da.” I grip her face. “Ye did good, listened to yer auld uncle. But when ye hear a sound like tha . . .” I pause. The words jumble in my throat. Da taught me how to respond in a firefight. My weebrathairsall acted accordingly, too. Still, one can never be prepared. This was something I never wanted for myweans. And not because of Chevelle, we were in harmony in this regard.
“Ye will never hear that sound again,” I assure her. “But ye did good, Mia.”
I plant my lips on her forehead. “Listen to all yer uncles.”
She nods.
“Tell me if yer mam decides to,” I clear my throat, “leave with ye.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
Settling back on my haunches, I give my girl my biggest smile. “Hey, where’s Da’s heart?”
Wiping the fallen tears from her eyes, Mia points to her stomach.
“Dinna bedaftie, my heart is right here with yers.”
“I know.” She giggles.
* * *
Brody pacesthe runner rug outside of the drawing room when I return. When I give him a quizzical look, he responds, “Da kicked me out. Said he’s handling all our problems.”
“Feck,brathair, I’m—”
“Nae, this happens sometimes. I’m just glad not to be solo this round.” He folds his beefy arms. “So, ye dinna have any idea where thearseholeis?”
“I could.” I rub my hands together, contemplating how I cracked Yates’ code. “Could be minutes or longer. But I’d rather show Da that I’m naefeckup.”
I grip the door handle and enter. Da’s moving the phone from his ear. Mam regards him as if waiting for him to share a bit of news. I stare at my father with intense resolve. “I’ll fix this.”
His gaze rolls away from mine.
“Big Brody,” Nan says.
Silence.
“Brody. Boy.”She clips each word.
At that, he regards her with a furious expression. “I’ve seventy-two hours to speak with the head of the Roman family.”