I wonder if it was hormonal, such as Kieran becoming a teenager. He’s a lot older than Kiera. I’m not confident in his actual age, but I’m also not confident my theory’s right either. Especially after observing him interact with his horse. That guy loves his horse.
* * *
Acluster of ATVs and SUVs jar me out of a peaceful moment as our mares gallop up the slope of land leading to the main estate.
“Woah, woah!” Kiera gently tugs the reins, stalling. “We’re on lock down.”
“Does this happen often?” I suffer a glance to where Kieran shot Marty in cold blood.
“No. To be honest, I thought Kieran scaled down his militia. That’s not the case.”
We edge off the mares, and two unarmed men assist us with climbing down.
“That’ll be all,” Kiera tells the guard.
“You should go inside,” he says.
Kiera serves up the same fierce, unyielding demeanor as her brother. Although there’s a blunt smile on her face, she repeats herself, “I said that will be all.”
Inside the modern barn, we lead the horses to their stalls. Whimsical, individualized blackboards are outside of each. I glare at the one fittingly titledRuthless—Kieran’s evil thoroughbred huffs. The horse’s inky black pits for eyes track my movements as a tiny spray coats my cheek.
“Oh, Ruthie loves you too.” Kiera sniggers.
I stop leading Dixie into her stall to pick up a bit of hay and throw it in the mare’s direction.
“Kiera. Ava!”Kieran’s sharp, callous voice calls to us from the entrance. By the time we’ve turned around, he’s rushed inside. Kieran rolls his shoulders, diminishing the urgency in his resolute demeanor.
Having spent hours watching people live their lives for my amusement and survival, I notice the stiffness of his jaw.
“What’s wr—”
His hand hauls over the nape of my neck, and his lips crash hard against mine. It’s a more subtle shut your mouth than the back of Adnan’s hand. His teenage sister whistles. “The two of you get a room—I heard that line on the tellybox, Ava.”
I give Kieran one last heated look of curiosity. He steps back, guiding Dixie into the stall.
I lean against the post, watching him unbuckle the saddle. Kieran shushes the skittish mare by softly stroking her hair.
From over the half-wall, Kiera makes quick work of unsaddling her horse while continuing to chat. “Speaking of rooms. Nan’ll have space for us when we visit for Camdyn’s graduation? Should we leave stat?”
“No.” Kieran positions the leather saddle onto the rack then runs a heavy hand over the back of his neck.
“Is there a security issue?” I chime in.
“Nothing that won’t work itself out.” Kieran cocks his head toward the entrance. “Time to go inside.”
Kiera rolls her eyes. “How cryptic. A security issue will magically solve itself. Here I was hoping we’d have to go on the run, leave this place. A transatlantic escape sounded fun right about now. So, Camdyn’s graduation?”
“What about it?” Kieran mutters, half listening.
“We always have a place to stay, Kier. Or if the MacKenzies have too much family visiting, we can stay at a five-star—no—an Airbnb! An Airbnb above the Hollywood sign,” she prattles, dreamily.
Still incensed, Kieran stalks around the half-wall to assist his starry-eyed sister. He bites out, “We?”
The tender oblivion fades from Kiera’s face. Enraged, she sucks in air. “Just you? Not me.”
Whatever’s on Kieran’s mind has to do with their clan business—and it’s far from a safe business at that. While my fingertip glides over Ruthless’ nameplate, I attempt to reel in the heated discussion. “So, who’s this Camdyn? When’s his graduation.”
“Cam MacKenzie,” Kieran groans, running a hand over his eyes.