“Bryant is asking if it was us,” I murmur, nervous energy buzzing under my skin. “What do I say back?”
“Give it here,” Scout demands. “I’ll deal with it. We don’t know shit about any missing girls.”
Landry visibly relaxes at his words. Keeping her captive here isn’t what I would have set out to do, but now that she’s here, it’s up to us to protect her from that piece of shit. I can guarantee that neither I nor my brothers will let anything happen to her.
That’s a promise.
* * *
While Scout makes breakfast with Della, and Sparrow showers off his hangover, I sit down next to Landry on the sofa. She’s been obsessively flipping through channels, trying to glean what her dad knows.
“You okay?”
She shrugs, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top. “I have to be.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” She cuts her eyes my way. “Maybe.”
Knowing she won’t come on her own free will, I grab her by her hips and haul her into my lap. I expect a bit of a fight, but she curls into me, like she’s craving for someone to hold her and promise everything will be all right. She smells like Scout’s cologne which is irritating, but I’m able to ignore it since she feels so good in my arms.
“Your dad can’t hurt you,” I remind her. “You’re safe with us.”
“Doesn’t feel very safe.”
“Well, it is safe. You think me or Sparrow or Scout would let him touch you?”
She considers my words and then gives me a small shake of her head. “I’m grateful for you making sure things are as normal as possible for Della. I know you think you’re the babysitter while…” She trails off. “Just know it means a lot to me.”
Her head tilts up and I don’t miss the kiss she’s offering me. Threading my fingers into her hair, I caress her as my lips press to hers. The kiss is sweet at first. Until I become ravenous for more. A groan rumbles through me and I devour her mouth, nibbling and sucking and tasting.
Something whaps me in the head. A pink cat. I find Della, no longer in the kitchen, but perched on the arm of the sofa, watching us with an evil grin on her face. Reluctantly, I pull back from Landry and give Della a raised brow.
What? I sign to her.
Della narrows her eyes. Dummy.
Brat. I smirk at her. You.
She signs something quickly to Landry that I miss altogether before she scurries off to bother someone else. Landry is smiling which makes me smile too.
“What did the little twerp say?” I demand, pretending to be annoyed.
“She was pretty scandalized by the fact we touched tongues like, and I quote, ‘two puppies.’ Then she asked if we could get a puppy.” Her smile grows wider. “It’s good to see her happy.”
Landry cuddles against me, soft and warm, no longer tense. I didn’t do anything on purpose to change her mood, but it feels like maybe I accidentally conquered a big mountain.
“It’s good to see you happy, too, honey.”
Chapter Ten
Landry
I thought we’d be past the tantrums, but Della didn’t get the memo. She’s throwing a fit of epic proportions, stomping her feet and throwing pillows off the couch. Her cute little face is red from anger and twisted into an expression that’s a little frightening.
“What’s the kid’s problem?” Sparrow asks, leaned against the wall and studying her from afar.
Sully is trying to appease her with the few ASL phrases he knows. It only seems to infuriate her more. I attempt to calm her down to no avail. It’s Scout, in the end, who diffuses the situation.
He walks over to her, thumps her on the head, and shakes his head. She bares her teeth at him like she might bite. At the last second she signs the word, cat.
“Cat?” he asks, arching a brow, making sure she sees his mouth.
A tear streaks down her cheek and she swipes it away before nodding. I’m surprised he knows the word. My heart does a tiny squeeze in my chest knowing these guys are trying to find ways to communicate with my sister. They’re obviously researching and learning ASL because of her.
“She’s tired,” I offer. “Needs to go to bed.”
He scoops her up, holding her to him and makes a click with his tongue. Heathen grumbles from somewhere within the apartment and then comes trotting into the living room.
“Time for bed,” Scout tells the cat. “Let’s go.”
Della is no longer upset and clings to Scout, resting her head on his shoulder. It breaks my heart that the only male role model in her life is an abusive prick. It felt like, until now, I was the only one who understood Della. These guys, though, are certainly trying which means far more than I’d like to admit.