CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BROCHAN
That fucking painting. It was like she had crawled into my soul, to the small part that still felt, and pulled out what lived there and splashed it all over that canvas. I stood with my hands in my pockets, needed them there so I didn’t reach for the whisky as I could still see her and our last night together. She didn’t understand it had been done for her, but telling her would have made her dig her heels in, would have had her fighting harder. She’d seen enough ugly in her life, she didn’t need more of it because of me.
Her face that last night, not just wounded but devastated. I saw it every time I closed my eyes. That was my penance for tossing away the one person who completely understood every dark part of my soul.
Fenella entered the room carrying a book. Boomer and Champ lifted their heads from their naps by the fire. She’d been giving me the cold shoulder since Lizzie left. Finnegan followed her in. He wasn’t any happier with me. She tossed the book on the table, fire in her eyes when they landed on me.
“We have stood behind you every day since your first. Through it all, even when you decided to become a killer for hire, we never faltered because that is what family does, but damn it I can’t stand behind this. You had happiness right in your hands and you tossed it away. Your father let his pain destroy him. He couldn’t find his way out and you…you’re acting just like him but it’s self-hatred that will be your end.” She started for the door. “Lizzie went to Edinburgh to research your family. She thought to show you that the McIntyres were more than Finlay, but instead she gave you your mother’s family. Names, addresses of all those still living.”
She reached the door and looked back. “Knowing Brianna linked her to something, changed her, gave her a foundation in which to build on. She wanted you to have that too. Her hope was for you to build on it together, but like your father you turned your back on the best thing that ever happened to you.” She walked out and tossed over her shoulder, “You can make your own fucking dinner. Boomer and Champ, come.”
They hurried out. She’d feed them.
Finnegan’s silence cut just effectively as Fenella’s words. I didn’t share about Mac, what the hell was the point. What they wanted for me was a fairy tale, but fucking fairy tales weren’t real. Mac and Ava were proof of that. That foundation could crumble; it could be leveled with nothing more than one perfectly aimed shot. I glanced down at the book. Alone but for the ghosts that haunted me, I settled on the sofa and picked it up.
LIZZIE
Sitting in Joseph Masters’ office I was reluctantly impressed with how quickly my father handled my mother.
“She dropped the suit. Her lawyer faxed all the appropriate papers to me just this morning.” Joseph looked up from the fax. “I’d like to know what your father used as persuasion.”
Despite what I had said earlier, I was curious too for her to change her tune so quickly. His threat carried more weight than her greed, so it had to be something significant.
“What happens now?”
“It’s yours. I’m having the title for the cottage transferred to your name. The funds are ready to be deposited into your account.”
I was grateful, wanted that link to Brianna, but going back to Tulloch Croft wasn’t happening anytime soon. “Thank you, Mr. Masters.”
“I’m very happy it all worked out.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “But I want to warn you. From what I know of Norah Calhoun, I urge you to be cautious.”
“Do you think she might try something?” I wasn’t sure she had the balls to confront me. I wasn’t a helpless child anymore.
“I think you know her better than I, but I’ve been doing this job for a long time. Some people when pushed push back. Your mother seems the type to push back.”
“To what end? She lost.”
“The win or lose mentality is assuming the person in question is acting logically.”
If he was looking to scare me, he succeeded.
“I’m sorry. I’ve upset you. I just want you to be careful, at least until things settle down.”
“I’ll be careful, but my mother is a bully. She attacks those she deems weaker than her. I haven’t been that person in a long time.”
“All right.” He stood and offered his hand. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you for everything.”
I had just reached the door when he asked, “Will you be returning to Scotland?”
When it no longer hurt thinking about it. “Some day.”
“Water damage, Lizzie. That stupid toilet flooded into the living room. The landlord is dealing with it, but I can’t have Ethan and my anniversary dinner there. Nothing like chateaubriand and eau de toilet water.”
That was a visual. “Have it here.”
She looked up from buttering her bagel. “I don’t want to kick you from your place.”
“Nonsense. I’ll be in the studio anyway. When is it?”
“In four days. Are you sure?”
“Yes. Do you need help bringing anything over?” Dinner wasn’t just dinner, she liked to stage her apartment to fit with both the event and the food.
“Would you mind?”
“No, especially if you save me some of whatever deliciousness you create,” I offered with a hopeful grin.
“Deal.” She took a bite of her bagel. “I have some shopping still to do. Do you want to come with me?”
“Yeah, let me get my coat.” It wasn’t my coat I was retrieving. Cait had been eyeing a Moncler coat for years. It was an extravagance, one she was on the fence about indulging in. I bought it for her. Silver lining to the heartache of Brochan, the reminder to show the ones you love that you love them. I pulled the black, quilted puffer coat from the closet. She didn’t see it right away because she was checking her phone.
“Are you ready?” she asked and glanced up. She did a double take before her jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”
I held it out to her.
“For me?”
“It’s just a small token.”
“Small? Three grand is small? It’s even prettier in person.”
“Try it on.”
She moved from around the counter and then stopped. “I have greasy fingers.” She hurried to the sink and washed her hands before she joined me, but she didn’t take the coat. Instead, she hugged me around the coat. “Thank you.”
We shared a moment before she declared gleefully, “Okay, let’s get this baby on.”
She moved like a runway model, reminding me of the day we met, the turning point for me, from living in hell to finding the path that would lead to happy. “It suits you.”
“It’s so warm, and soft.” She grabbed my hand. “Let’s go show this off.”
Seeing how happy it made her, I made a note to do little things like it often. Showing people you loved that you loved them was a good thing.
BROCHAN
I stared into the flames lost in thought. My mother’s family, the names and addresses Lizzie had compiled, there were more than I realized and many of them lived within driving distance. From time to time, I’d get invitations for events that I blew off. I hadn’t given them a second thought, hadn’t realized that their desire to reach out to me wasn’t just about me. It took Lizzie to get me to see that. She had been the link to Brianna’s sister and it was because of that link that Brianna’s dying wish was to meet her, to see in Lizzie her beloved sister one last time. Lizzie giving me my mother’s family, she understood I was their link to my mother and that it hadn’t just been my father who lost her. I’d never considered that before, too wrapped up in my own hell to think about anyone else.
“This just came for you by way of special courier.” I turned to see Finnegan carrying a white envelope. He handed it to me and was halfway to the door when he said, “Fenella asked me to tell you that dinner is at seven.”
I guess I wasn’t in the doghouse anymore. He reached the door when I called to him. “Finnegan?”
He turned. “Aye.”
“Why the easy acceptance for what I do?”
A shadow moved across his face. “My best mate went out to get milk. His wife was home with their young babe. He just went down the street. Walked in on a hold up. The animal didn’t even hesitate; shot him in the face. He held on for a few days before he died. They never caught him. His wife lost her husband; his son lost his father and all because he went out to get milk. What you do is brutal, but the world is brutal and at least you are on the right side of it.”
I was beginning to understand just how much of a dick I’d been. I had never even considered their lives outside of mine. Why they stuck with me, I didn’t know. “I’m sorry for your mate.”
He nodded. “Don’t be late for dinner.” He winked then disappeared.
I turned over the thick card stock before ripping it open.
Dear Brochan,
By now you have met Elizabeth Danton and if you are reading this letter, you have turned her away. How I know this, let’s just say it’s women’s intuition.
I understand why you’ve chosen to live a life on the outside. I think I might have done the same had I lived through what you did, but my dear boy you aren’t living. What your father did to you, it can’t be undone, but by separating yourself from others you’re allowing him to keep doing it.
I didn’t get to meet Miss Danton. Perhaps she is like her mother and if so, well done for tossing her out. But perhaps she is just another victim. Another lost, lonely soul looking for a place to belong.
You knew her, you would know best the kind of person she is, but I will say this. If she eases the pain, if she makes the world just a little bit brighter then you are a fool to walk away from that. You’ve been in the shadows long enough, dear boy. Allow yourself to step back into the light.
Love,
The nag who loves you, Brianna
She was still maneuvering me from beyond the grave. That meddling…I almost fisted the letter and tossed it in the fire. I didn’t. I read it again and then again. I missed her. I still didn’t understand why the woman wanted so badly to believe there was good in me, that I cared? My eyes drifted to the painting hanging over the fireplace…it hit like a punch to the gut. It did every time I looked at it. Fucking stupid to lie to myself. About Lizzie, I cared a whole fucking hell of a lot. “Shit.”
I was a grown man, but I stood there lost as to what to do. I wanted her, I feared for her, but I fucking wanted her. I found myself in a position where I needed some advice and there was someone who had been offering that my whole life. It was time I listened.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I watched Fenella moving around the kitchen. I had long ago told both her and Finnegan they weren’t required to work. That had been the extent of my kindness, offering them a life of leisure. They could have left. They owed my family nothing and yet they stayed. They taught me how to fly a kite and how to roller skate; they had kissed my wounds when I hurt and they tucked me in at night. They didn’t owe my family, they were my family and I never acknowledged it. I got so wrapped up in my own shit that I took for granted the two people who had never left my side. Who have had my back since the day I was born. Lizzie gave me that too. She opened my eyes to what was staring me right in the face.
“Fenella.”
“Dinner’s not ready yet,” she said as she continued to whip whatever was in the pot.
“I’m sorry.”
The whipping stopped and she turned.
“I never thanked you for sticking around, for not just caring for me, but for…” I glanced down, my fucking eyes burning, but she deserved the apology and the tears. She was crying too. “For stepping in and being my family…my mom.”
She knocked me off balance with her hug. My arms came around her, a hug that was long overdue. She pressed a kiss to my cheek then stepped back. “There’s nothing to say thank you for, it’s what families do.”
“I fucked up with Lizzie.”
“Yes, you did.”
“There’s a reason.”
“This sounds like a conversation that requires tea with a kick.” She busied herself with putting on the kettle, getting the cups and saucers. I moved to the cabinet for the whisky. She plated up biscuits and I smiled remembering as a child she always had biscuits.
We settled at the table. “You might want a few sips of that before I get started.”
Worry clouded her pretty eyes, but she took a few sips and then I told her about Mac and Ava. Watching the emotions move over her face was hard, had my own feelings rising to the surface despite my best attempt to lock them up.
“Oh, Brochan.” She reached for my hand. “No wonder you sent her away.”
“You think I was right to?”
“Of course not. It was bloody stupid, but I get it.”
The chuckle felt natural, so did sitting here talking with her. I had denied us this. I was fucking stupid.
“You need to go to her.” Fenella’s eyes widened and I could see very clearly what she was seeing…the fairy tale ending, the look across the crowded room, the fucking blue birds singing. She loved romance; she loved happily ever afters. I pulled the letter from my pocket and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” She was already reading it. Her smile was bittersweet. “If I didn’t know any better I would think she was the supernatural one.”
“She’s a witch.”
“Aye. I think you might be right. She’s right too. It’s time to step into the light, Brochan, and there’s a really bright one whose heart you broke. She’s right over the pond.”
“How do I handle that? Just show up with flowers. Hey, sorry I was a fucking bawbag. We good?”
She glared. “No. You need to make a grand gesture.”
Ah shit. I was afraid to ask. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. You’ll know when the time comes.”
“Wouldn’t my flying across the pond to see her be the grand gesture?”
“You broke her heart and basically kicked her out of your house.”
She had a point.
“So until this grand gesture magically appears, what am I supposed to do with myself?”
“You have the unique opportunity to see Lizzie in Lizzie’s world. Maybe you’ll understand better what that grand gesture should be after watching a day in her life.”
“So stalk her.”
“It’s not stalking, it’s observing.”
“You want me to fly across the pond and stalk a woman until I come up with some grand gesture. Am I getting this right?” Maybe she wasn’t the right person to talk to about this.
“Do you have a better idea?”
No. “No.”
“The important thing, Brochan, don’t let her slip through your fingers.”