Chapter 15
Brody
The next day, I walk through the hospital atrium to visit Erika McFarland. It might seem callous that I’ve asked her father for a favor less than a day after she’d been shot on Clan MacKenzie land. Mam had said to keep the incident hush-hush, until Da had dealt with it—alone.
The day I tossed my cap into the air and grabbed my high school diploma, I’d became Da’s right-hand. His decision to vindicate the wrong that happened to Erika, without me or the rest of the clan, fecking hurt. I’d been helping Leith deal with a cyberstalker and had kept the issue from Da.
My bràthairfecked up big time. Since he’d not asked for my help—ever in his entire lifetime—I screwed up too. I kept Leith’s secret, and we’d not handled the bampot’s problems the clan way.
I stroll through the sterile halls of a place I only visit annually. With one hand inside of my leather bomber jacket, the other holds a bag of food Mam made for Erika. My gaze sweeps across the room numbers. My cousin Firth’s wife exits, and the door closes behind her.
Eddy pushes a few strands of mousy-brown hair behind her ear.
“How’s Erika?” I ask.
“Och, complaining about all the bother. Asking for her,” Eddy mouths gun, verbally adding, “asking when she’s leaving the place. Anytime I or yer mam drops by, she expects us to have a getaway car ready.”
“Eddy, she say anything about Ewan being aware she’s here?”
“Nae, Brody. She’d slit her writs before calling her da. She’d not call the ladfor nothing.”
I nod, and she mentions she’ll check in on Erika later. Eddy’s kinder than a mouse, but even I see the disgust she harbors for Da’s oldest mate.
Inside the room, the wall directly across from me is a whiteboard of smiley face emojis, indicating pain from one-through-ten. I wince. In a bed that’s lifted, Erika’s red hair is pulled into a ponytail. Her hard green eyes lock onto me.
“Brody, ye bawbag, bust me outta this bitch!”
“Nae.” I deposit the bag onto the tray by a plastic container of water. I dig through the bag for a tin can. “Mam made shortbread, yer favorite.”
“So, ye do love me!” She pumps a fist, stopping from the full execution due to the hospital wires connected to her arms.
“Got yer other favorite too.”
“Norcos?” She lifts a brow.
I go on the defense, searching the bed panel for the nurse button. “Ye hurt? They’re not given ya wit ye need?”
“Gimme that.” She takes the remote from my hand. “I feel good, Brody. Could feel better, though.”
I pull out a small bag of See’s Candies.
“Och, my other favorite.”
“Erika, how the feck are ya doing, girl?” I ask, too restless to sit.
“Alive!” The wee twig of a lass grins from ear to ear while sliding her finger between the See’s Candies’ wrapping paper.
“Stop looking broody, Brody,” Erika mutters before popping one into her mouth.
I grunt, shoving my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket.
She waves me away. “Listen, yer mam told me why those Romans came after the clan the other day. All the confusion that Leith unknowingly started. The other lone wolf,” she says of our cousin, Blythe, who has no bràthairs unlike most of my cousins and me, “was here about an hour ago. I ringed my da and gave him the news.”
Feck. Da didn’t tell me shite.
“How does Ewan feel about it being a misunderstanding?” I drop my head, kneading the back of my neck. “Ya know, Erika, this whole thing that happened to ya on MacKenzie clan grounds . . . my da . . . he’s—”
“I’m prepared to blame the whole thing on Leith. Gorgeous feckers like him can do nae wrong.”