Chapter 60
Justice
In the last five minutes, a world of drama unfolded. Nan went to get dressed, and Chevelle went to console Jamie, murmuring she’d tell me later. She must have noticed the bewildered look on my face. Now, Leith, Big Brody, Camdyn, and Lachlan keep disappearing and returning with guns to place on the massive kitchen counter.
Rory, Jake, and Mia have gone up to one of the boys’ rooms. Every few trips from bringing down weapons, Big Brody assures me that I can make myself anything that I’d like to eat. I’m sure he’s not saying that because I’m a good number of pounds overweight either. This is exactly how Black families treat each other too. Food is an adhesive.
I’m about to leave the table when Brody’s cellphone number pops up onto my screen.
“Justice, ye good?”
“Yes,” I murmur.
“Got yer purse?”
I sigh. This is a subtle inquiry that my gun is in close proximity. “Yes.”
“Put me on speaker.”
I do, gesturing for the guys to crowd around.
“Kieran and I are en route to welcome Uncle Ewan.” Brody’s brogue comes in loud and clear. “Justice, we’re going to the same place I met him with Leith a few years ago, when Mam and Da were in France for their anniversary.”
Clearly, this message is for them while he pretends to have a conversation with me. I’m an accessory to mass murder—great.
Leith gestures to me. I reply, “Okay, baby,” though I never call him that.
“Stay put, lass.” The call disconnects.
“Damn, girl,” Camdyn pats my shoulder. “You’re one of us now.”
I assume, now, he has actually slotted me into the friend category per his statement earlier. All because my actions align with his way of thinking.
Still in absolute shock, I slip from my chair. I can’t flee the room fast enough. Leith catches up with me toward the living room.
“Hey, you’ll get used to them after a while,” he says. “Forget what my Mam said about Jamie—she’s rarely like this. I’ll be here with ye all. This is the type of action Camdyn feeds on. And we don’t need to have an entire army regiment on hand.”
“Oh . . .”
An easy smile falls on his attractive lips. “Chevelle’s upstairs, last room on the left. If ye need to find her.”
A beat later, his thick lips fall. I’d assumed he was trying to console me, but now, he forks fingers through his strawberry blond hair.
I lift a brow.
“Och, Erika. She sleeps until the sun’s almost down on most days.”
My shoulders sag. “Oh no, this’ll break her heart.”
He nudges his jaw. “Let’s go. I’ll show ye Jamie’s room then tell my mate that we’re about to kill her da.” He scoffs, shoulders heavy.
I follow him up the stairs.
“Ye getting along okay—despite everything?”
“Yes, thanks for asking.” My words slowly trickle out.
“It’s not registered, has it?”