“Away from certain lasses, like Chevelle, Firth’s wife, Eddy, and the lass Blythe sees on occasion. But the issue is, Justice, Wilmer had plans for that motherfecker. Marcus escaped him.”
“Marcus escaped from him?” I murmur. The trappings of success lining up and down the block have vanished. A bout of queasiness clutches my stomach.
“Aye. The night I called. Wilmer had reached out to me, let me know Marcus skedaddled off, still owing him. Wilmer said ye would pay on Marcus’s behalf.”
“No, he didn’t.” I sigh.
“Aye. He threatened me. Now, me and him will come to a new agreement.”
My gaze lowers like one would if we were in an animal kingdom, and I were submitting to the ultimate predator. “You’ll kill Wilmer.” Yes, I thought it, but saying it out loud hits different.
“Not quickly, nae.”
Again, I bite down bile.
“He was coming after—”
There’s soft popping at the door behind Brody. Mia’s practically falling out of her father’s arms to beat on the window.
“Uncle Brody, let me in!” the child screeches.
“Let’s postpone this chat for later.” I reinforce the smile on my face.
“I have to tell—”
Pop. Pop. “Pleaseeee!”
“Aye, ye wee lassie.” Brody opens the door. He clicks his tongue to Leith, taking the girl. “Bawbag.”
His leaner brother replies, “ ‘ello, bawbag. Justice, I take it my bràthair is treating ye good?”
“Yes.” I get out of the truck and close the door.
“Go right on in,” Leith tells me, looping an arm around Brody. “I need to have a word with the nugget.”
“Auntie Justice, my gift.” Mia’s voice rings out. She’s climbed down her uncle and jostles toward me.
“Mia,” her father growls.
I toss a smile over my shoulder. “That’s okay. I have something for her. I take my title seriously.”
With Mia straddling my hip, we walk up a stone pathway toward a door that makes my mouth drop. For Leith to be the only one in the MacKenzie family to be on the straight and arrow, he and Chevelle live like kings and queens.
With the extravagant bare bones of the house, I can see the place coming together. The formal living room has a few accent pieces, and a dining room has boxes in the corner. Mia scampers from my hip and jumps at the bottom of the stairs.
“Come, Auntie Justice. My room has everything!”
Dropping my hand to my hip, I regard her, head cocked, “If you have everything, sweetheart, why do you always ask me for a toy?”
Mia scratches the crown of her hair, the unruly corks rustling around.
“Don’t worry, I got you, girl.” I poke her stomach, and she’s all smiles again. “I need to look through my luggage.”
From across the way, Chevelle enters, wearing an apron over a blouse and wide-legged pants. I glance down at my comfy attire. I’m still in vacation mode. Behind her, Erika’s keeping stride a few paces back in a wheelchair.
“We can all go on a date now!” My good friend fist pumps the air. “Erika met Quinn. You’re with the . . . the . . .”
“You promised,” Erika replies in a singsong tone.