Rolling my eyes, I stalk back inside my home. I walk around the sitting area where I vow Ava will one day read one of her nonsensical books. I head toward the top of the stairs and lean my forearms onto the elaborate barrier. Below, my cousin Erika, who’s maybe two years my junior, stalks into the house, wearing all leather.
Her green eyes flicker up toward me. “Ahhh,bawbag. Look who the dog drug in.”
“The term is ‘look what thecatdrug in,’ Erika.” Kiera enters behind her, dressed in a private school blazer, slacks, and the oddest wee shoes.
“But I’m a dog,” the skinny lass barks. They’re about the same height, with my cousin favoring pointed heels that look like daggers.
“Who?” I ask. Erika decided to chauffeur my sister from her private school each day, so seeing her is nothing new. She wouldn’t think of me hiring someone for the task—said it wasn’t the clan way. She said my parents must’ve dropped me on my noggin, or her da’s ways had rubbed off on me.
As I lean my forearms on the railing, Erika places her index fingers into her mouth, letting out a whistle. Through the open door my good mate, Brody, emerges. He clicks his tongue in greeting. I nod at him.
“Guess what,” Erika says.
“What?”
My sister lounges in the living room, watching with a laugh. “Erika did a knock-knock joke with me.”
“Brody’s not sayingbawbaganymore.” Erika nudges her head at Brody, but I’m not interested.
“Brody, where’s Leith?” I ask, palms rubbing in anticipation.
“What?” Erika feigns shock. “This lad here is your mate. Not Leith.”
“Brody, since we’re tossing around questions here. If I deadyour brother, how will you feel?” Everyone laughs but me.
“I’d dead you. Erika would dead me. Camdyn,feck.” My friend runs a hand over the back of his neck while climbing the steps. He lowers his voice, “Ya know, he hated Erika. Now, he more than tolerates her. Someone gutted his heart.”
“Gutted?” I almost whisper, shaking my friend’s hand.
“Heh, I can hardly hear ya up there, but I know what you’re talking about.” Erika chuckles, lounging in the living room next to Kiera. “Camdyn’s butt hurt. Anyway, who’s next on the vendetta train? If that bitch ain’t in the fighting mood.”
“Uncle Ewan,” Kiera chimes in, pointing a gold-fountain pen in our direction.
“Sounds like a vicious cycle. I’m game.” Smiling, I lean against the landing.
“Listen,” Like a cat, not a dog, Erika has slinked off the couch and now climbs the steps. “I was thinking. You and I should try to take Brody’s lassie instead of handing Leith hisarse. I almost kissed Jus—”
“Erika,” Brody growls.
“What?” she gasps. “Bawbag, you weren’t claiming the lassie when you first met. I almost got a kiss. Kier, his lady has a good hunk of meat on ‘er.”
“How will that vindicate whatLeithdid tome.”
Brody cuts in. “Erika, your cousin ain’t in the joking mood.”
Chuckling, she retorts, “Okay, well, I’ve always had eyes for Chev . . .”
I turn around and walk away. A few minutes later, Brody finds me in the weight room.
“Classy place ya got here.” He spots me. “Kier . . . you’ve always been a lad who can lose himself in his thoughts. With no close siblings . . .”
It’s like white noise funneling in my ears. BrodyfeckingMacKenzie has changed. He says I can go mute. He must’ve forgotten about his knack with becoming mum in his big rig that only whores or a fight could pause.
“Your bird—”
“Don’t mention her,” I hiss, powering through a repetition.
While pawing his stubby beard, Brody’s eyebrow kicks up. “You and Cam will be spirit brothers this weekend. You invited us to watch Blythe. We’re so proud of him getting called up from the rookie team—”