I’m unable to laugh at her joke.
“Brody, Leith was playing computer hacker games. Since that nugget’s never done a bad deed his entire life, he suckered ye and Cam. Feck, he suckered me into goin’ against clan rules. We were trying to help him.”
“This some sort of speech?”
She grabs another chocolate. “Aye. Ye feel less like a bawbag?”
“Nae.”
“Och, ye have a personal problem.” She chews on another chocolate. “Listen, when Blythe and I rang my da, we didn’t tell him who the feck shot me or why.”
Those Romans had only meant to prove a point. That’s why no one is dead. “He ask if any MacKenzies were shot?”
Her green eyes flit across the room. She grunts. “Nae. Feckingarsehole. Not ‘is everything okay? How can I help.’Nae!Ewan McFarland’s daughter gets shot, and he expects three of ye to be deid.”
Erika pushes down the paper-thin blanket, lifting her gown to show bandages around her slim, bruised stomach. While she jokes about having battle wounds, I’m angered at myself.
“Ewan’s right, lass.” Three whole days and I’ve not checked on Erika. I fecking played bodyguard to Chevelle and spent two days sniffing after pussy. I’m an awful mate. “Erika, ye were shot, the only one harmed under our protection.”
“Yer protection?” She puts down the piece of chocolate she was about to gobble and snaps, “Bullshite! I copped me a feel of that bonny Chevelle when we went down. Touched her tits. It was bloody worth it.”
I shake my head. Leave it to Erika to feel up an attractive woman while we’re in a fecking gunfight. All of us were shooting—me, Da, Mam, Leith, Erika—while Camdyn saved Mia, and my younger bràthairs ran and hid. Ambushed on our own land. “I’m surprised ye saved her scrawny arse. She hates ya.”
“Hey, her arse is good enough for Leith—bloody perfect for me too.” Erika shovels in another piece of chocolate. “When I get outta here, maybe I can steal her from yer bràthair, eh? Brilliant, eh . . . eh?”
“Nae.”
“Aye, ye’re right. They’ve loved each other since they were weans—since, I fecking loved laddies—loved him. Guess wit?” She pauses from chattering.
“Wit?”
“If my heroic antics worked in my favor, that leaves ye as Public Enemy Number One with our lass.”
“Feck Chevelle,” I mutter, running my palms over my eyes. “Twigs ain’t our lass. Besides, Leith wanna be a pussy, get himself married, that’s on him.”
She points a chocolate molasses chip at me. “One day, ye’re gonna wish ye had a mind like Leith.”
“That how ye feel?” I ask, standing up.
My mate stares at me a few beats, shocked at my comment. I’ve never cared long enough to pursue a conversation about women with her—unless Erika and I were about to double-team a bonny lass.
She sighs. “Aye, that’s how I feel sometimes. Like last night, it was just me here. Eddy offered to stay, but Firth is the nicest pal. I’d feel like shite having Eddy here. Also, Eddy’s got a face that looks like a dog took a crap,and the shite got old? Ya know, white-grey, crusty.”
I frown at her attempt at a joke.
“Shuddup. It’s funny, Brody. Anyway, don’t tell Firth. He’s a big teddy bear, sensitive. Ye cousins are so mean to him.”
“Not me.”
“That’s because ye have no opinion about nothing.”
I nod in agreement. “I’ll be back later. Spend the night here with ya.”
“Whywould ya wanna fecking spend the night in this gawd-forsaken place for?”
I click my tongue. “I’ve slept worse places.”
I start past her bed as Erika protests. “Wait. Have James and Knox spend the night with me instead. If I’ve gotta sleep with lads, might as well be those two. They’ve been cute since their mam dressed them the same as boys. Get back here, ugly!”
I toss a grunt over my shoulder, closing the door behind me. That nugget’ll talk my ear off. But I could see through Erika’s efforts. I feel like shite for her being here. Outside of her room, my fist rockets toward the wall. My knuckles stop a fraction away from their mark.
“Excuse me, sir?” A feminine voice calls from the nurses’ station to the left of me. I stroll in the opposite direction.
While walking through the corridor, I consider, We’re gonna have problems. It’s always been us MacKenzies working for thosefecking McFarlands. For over a hunner years, our clans were allies. My da and Ewan were best of pals, same as their patriarch, emphasis on were. I’d respect Ewan’s decision to wage war on us for not keeping his daughter safe. Shite, for not knocking the head off the feckers who hurt her. That’s the natural reaction for predators like us.
But that’s not Ewan.
He’ll strike, not because Erika McFarland is his only heir. The bastard’s gonna make an example outta us for not keeping his lassie safe on account that she’s his property.
I tell myself to head over to our business this afternoon. Check out the next shipment of guns being sent to the East Coast, and not focus on the mayhem Ewan will cause soon. It’s not like the bastard will fight us head-on. He’s scheming, vicious, like a lass.