Chapter 26
Brody
I’m gutted. My own fecking father had the gall to carry on a meeting without his firstborn? My eyes settle on each clan member across the room. Blythe huffs, forcing a hand through his dark hair. My attention lands on Erika, and she offers a subtle nod.
Da hefts his shoulders, breaking the shocked silence. “I washed me hands of ye, already, Little Brody. Wit the feck do I have to do now, eh? Two weeks ago, I could depend on ya and have me a good night’s sleep. Now, I’m up to high doh!”
He’s excited?That’s an understatement. I wriggle my jaw, meeting my father’s gaze. “This is wit I said, Da. ‘Uncle Ewan, I’ll marry the lass.’ Did ye hear me say Erika’s name? Nae!”
Da laughs. “Nae, Rory’s the trickster when I need. Or Camdyn, son. If I somehow determine that I’d like to place the wool over someone’s eyes, then I’ve got Camdyn. He’s the most deceptive fecker of ye all.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Camdyn chimes in.
The man I was named after growls in unison with me. “Shut the feck up!”
Camdyn lifts a lazy middle finger. Da’s scowl flickers over me. “Now, I’m looking at a lad with nae integrity.”
“Listen to me.” I plant the back of my hand into my opposite palm. “After the Roman family, we didn’t vindicate Erika. We both know that it was a misunderstanding. I’ll go meet with Ewan. It’ll be a show of faith to a man who ain’t ever satisfied. Aye?”
While everyone’s tired eyes hold a wee bit of hope that I can resolve this catastrophe, my da looks straight through me.
I stand my ground. “I’m gonna catch the next flight home, meet Ewan on clan land. He’ll have had time to compose himself, and I’ll fix this. We all know the arsehole has a lot of enemies. A bloody massacre, that’s wit he needs, a list of people deid. Brilliant, aye?” I wipe my hands together. “Problem solved.”
“I scheduled a meeting, a fecking meetingwith the lad I once called bràthair fuil,” Da says, calling him blood brother. “Who sets a meeting with their mate, eh? I’ve wiped my hands of Ewan McFarland—the entire clan. Erika’s an honorary MacKenzie since Nan mourned yer mam, so ye have my respect and trust.”
Wit thefeck is my da saying? He’s done? Nae MacKenzie and McFarland union? I thought he was all talk at the restaurant. Apparently, this shite wasn’t all talk.
“I’m gonna reach out to my cousin, Kieran,” Erika says as if this revelation is old news. She must have suggested as much when they held this fecking meeting without me. “Kieran should know wit’s my father’s deal. Uncle Edward might be able to talk some sense into my da as well—Da’s always nice to my mam’s bràthair. He needs to cool off.”
“Unlikely. Your pops has placed a crown on his own head,” Camdyn says, still penciling on his notepad. This time, there’s no denying his claims. I lean against the table next to him. He’s fading in an image of a knife.
“Erika,” I say after a while, “ring Kieran—nae, I’ll do that. Talk to yer Uncle Edward. In the meantime, I’m catching a bird to Scotland. I will settle this.”
I hold Da’s attention for some time, waiting for him to give an order contrary to my plans. Slowly, his head bobs an affirmative. “Be vigilant, son. Leith set up a few things, and now, he’s leaving for Chicago. Camdyn has an education he neglected.”
One of my cousins carries Erika back up the steps. Slowly, the men in the room leave until it’s me, Da, and Camdyn, who’s illustrating the next tattoo he plans to get.
“There’s never been this distrust between our clans,” Da says. “Ye missed our whole chat, Brody.”
Though butthurt over his indecision to have the meeting without me, I reply, “We ain’t initiating war yet. Worst case scenario, I’ll take Erika to the justice of the peace, get a fecking license. If Ewan’s so vain that a piece of paper will do, then that’s wit we will do.”
“Yer mam’ll be livid.”
“Bro,” Camdyn places the notepad next to him, looking me dead in the eye, “you’ll let another motherfucker tell you to marry?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Marriage means nothing to neither ye nor I, so shut the feck up.”
“Don’t compare me to you, bro. I’ll stab myself in the eye before I kneel to another man.” He scoffs. “Tea bag the bitch if you want.”
“Say something else crazy to me, American. I’ll knock yer fecking heid off.”
“Nothing left to say,” he mutters.
“This is Da’s oldest mate!” I growl. “Da, ye have bràthairs. I’ve a whole heap of ‘em. Ewan has ye. He’s not thinking, is all.”
I stare at my da. He’s the most honest lad I’ve met and warrants his reasoning for killing a lad. However, it seems he’s gotten a hand on Mam’s playbook.
Camdyn hops down from the slab. “Dad, this one’s defective,” he gestures toward me in disgust, “compromised. I’ll make the trip back home, sneak into Ewan’s mansion. Hide out in that motherfucker for a few days, then strike when Ewan least expects it. The man has hired henchmen. Far as I’m concerned, we’re the only loyalist on his team. What’s one more week out of school for a genius, huh?”