“Nope.”
“I remember bringing Chevelle to dinner the first night,” He stops on the second landing to smile at me. “My hen was skittish.”
“Can I ask why you call her hen?” I ask, partly because I’m freaking out here and partly because I’m curious since Brody said it to me.
He laughs softly. “She almost took my fecking heid off the first time.”
“She’s not a chunky chicken. Or was she thick when you were teens?”
“Nae, Chevelle was scrawny and scrappy. Hen’s a term of endearment.” He bows at the proper door. “If ye hear Erika screaming at the top of her lungs, she’s probably gonna try to kill me. I’ll take wit the lass dishes.”
“I’m sorry.” I grimace, the organ in my chest palpitating for both their clans.
“Eh, we honestly all hoped it wouldn’t come to this, even Little Brody. Even Mam, I guess.” He hustles back down the stairs since Erika’s in a bedroom on the first floor.
A few cleansing breaths later, I rap on the wood. Chevelle cracks the door open. Jamie’s face down on the bed. He’s a big guy, literally large enough to fill a full-sized bed. He hugs a pillow to himself. She slips into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
“I’m so sorry.” She grimaces. “This wasn’t what I expected to happen after the two of you got together. You did enjoy the dinner, right?”
“Oh, my gawd, I never said thank you.”
“Ha, yeah. I’m guessing other things came up.” She tries on a smile, waving me conspiratorially to another door. “This is Lachlan’s bedroom. Once you get to know him better, he won't mind. If he’s quiet—”
“Run?” I lift a brow, glancing around the bedroom. There’s a poster of Midnight Gods on the wall. They’re all handsome if I were that type of girl. Otherwise, I’m surrounded by manga posters and busty pinup girl drawings.
Chevelle laughs. “Lachlan’s not that bad. If he’s quiet, you don’t have to run, unless you’re of the male species. Leave him be until he cools off. Anyway, I’d take you into Leith’s old bedroom, but he broke the door down pretty much the same day you arrived.”
“Broke the door?” I cock a brow.
“Yup. When we were at odds, remember?” She removes a desk chair and nudges her chin. I claim the seat while she settles at the edge of the bed.
“Justice, do you need a moment to freak out?”
“A drink would be nice. Though staying in our right frame of mind seems more appropriate.”
She takes a section of her long hair and braids it loosely, asking, “You’re worried about Jamie and Nan?”
“So far, I was told by him that Nan’s the one to worry about when shit hits the fan. I honestly felt like he’d let me in on a secret when he said so. However, she’d been extremely cordial. Then she blows up on the kid who never leaves her side.”
Chevelle lets the twists unravel. “It’s a constant warming up game until Jamie feels like you’ll be around for the long haul.”
“Okay?”
“Let’s see. He’s almost sixteen now. When we met, he was very young—around Mia’s age—but not under Nan’s wing so much. More outgoing like Camdyn, not as sneaky. Cam and Rory have sneaky covered. I was about how old he is now when he disappeared.”
“Jamie?” I gape.
“Yeah,” she nods, voice lowering. “He was taken from the park, age nine—maybe younger.” Chevelle’s eyes shade ever so slightly as if the day in question has descended around her. “It’s hard to remember. I was so young too. Teenagers, you know, we kind of just focus on ourselves. Plus, we all just kinda wanted to forget it.”
“What happened?”
She shakes the jitters from her shoulders. “They were at the park, the younger brothers. Jake might have been born, not sure. No, he was the baby, and Rory was running around like Mia—mouth moving a mile a minute too. Nan had a job and a half. Cam was there. Old enough to help her, but young enough to still not be responsible.” Chevelle stops, shaking her head. “Cam’s still gutted over it, though he doesn’t show it the proper way. Jamie, he shows it. In simple ways, such as you saying it felt like he let you in. He must’ve been listening at breakfast when we were talking about helping you and finding Marcus.”
“Yeah, I agree.” I give a slight nod.
“Anyway, when Nolan brought Jamie home. The only person he spoke to was Nan. They had intensive counseling together. Sometimes, he’d utter a word to me—it came during those days when I felt exceedingly depressed about my own situation at home.”
I watch as a ghost of a smile appears on Chevelle’s lips as she adds, “Over a year later, a baby bird fell from its nest in the backyard. He nursed that baby bird back to life. After that, Jamie seemed to wake up—not the same as before. He was always studious, on the quieter side, but now, he’s drawn to broken things.”
“Jamie is quiet,” I mumble, heart squeezed in a vice grip. “How did the detective find him? Did they catch—”
“Jamie was skin and bones when Nolan brought him home a week later. Nolan didn’t get the accolades that a cop would for breaking such a high-profile case. He fed a story to the media that Jamie wandered away from home. In reality, Nolan secretly handed over the family’s three enemies—alive.”
One word slips past my lips, “Jesus.” Nolan brought the kidnappers to the MacKenzies for reckoning.
“Yeah, that’s a small part of why I wasn’t much for the clan way in the past. We never mention it. Hardly ever think about it,” she murmurs, running a tentative hand over her slender forearm. “As I said, we all just wanted to forget it happened. But Jamie . . . obviously, he can’t forget.”
While Chevelle’s revelations are stored in my psyche, the full weight of it hardly has time to percolate. Erika’s distraught voice rings out. Now, she knows.