They all enveloped Brendan. Even Sorrel wrapped her arms around him and whispered something in his ear. Conall stood a little back, watching, until Lia withdrew from the group hug and flung herself at him.
“Thank you,” she exclaimed. “Thank you, thank you. Oh, Conall.”
She didn’t have to say, I was so scared. He knew.
“Wh-what happened?”
“It was ugly,” he said in a low voice. “Brendan saw things he shouldn’t have had to. The last damn thing he needed was another trauma right now.” His voice went raw. “I’ll never forgive myself for this.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “It’s not your fault. Of course it’s not.”
“Then whose is it?” He shook his head in disgust. “I knew he hero-worshipped me. I encouraged it because it felt good. I set him up to do something stupid to prove himself. I just didn’t think.”
“Boys do stupid things.”
Of all times to feel a grin tugging at his mouth. It was ludicrous, inappropriate and felt good. “Only boys?”
She laughed, although he heard a note of hysteria. “Girls are always more sensible, didn’t you know that?” Then she wiped her cheeks. “Oh, I’m a mess.” Her gaze encompassed the kids, now staring at the adults. “We’re all a mess. Let’s go in, hear the story, have some cookies and milk, and then go to bed.”
Cookies and milk sounded about right to Conall. In fact, a vagrant thought came to him: That day so long ago when he’d had his face pounded, that’s what he’d wanted from his mommy. An ice pack, a scold, then cookies, milk and sympathy.
He might have envied Brendan, except something that was relief and more was making him feel light, even happy.
Lia didn’t blame him. She’d thanked him. And a few minutes later, when they all sat at the dining room table and he told the tale of the night’s happenings, skimming over the parts that involved blood and death, Lia’s face shone with gratitude and the kind of warmth a man wanted to tuck away in a breast pocket for retrieval at future, lonely moments.
It felt like an intrusion when the others started arriving at the house.
* * *
“BEDTIME,” LIA SAID FIRMLY.
“But it’s almost morning!” Walker protested. “See, it’s getting light.”
They all turned their heads to see that the black outside the window was, indeed, paling to pearly gray.
“Don’t care,” Lia said.
“Can I stay home from school?” Sorrel begged. “’Cause otherwise I have to get up in only an hour.”
“You may. Come on, everyone.” Lia clapped her hands and the kids shuffled toward the stairs.
Conall gave her a lazy smile. “I’m afraid to disobey, but I’m needed next door.”
She was proud of the smile she produced. “You’re exempt.” She hesitated. “But you haven’t had any sleep at all.”
On a groan, he lifted his arms toward the ceiling and stretched. She heard a few pops and cracks. When he was done, he said, “I’ll take a nap, don’t worry.”
She shook her head and followed the kids.
Upstairs, she went to tuck the boys in and found Walker sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Can I sleep with Bren?”
Brendan lay in bed, but his eyes were wide. “I don’t think I can go to sleep. I keep thinking—” A shudder rattled his thin body.
“I’ll tell you what.” She hugged Walker and smiled at his older brother. “Why don’t you both get in bed with me? I’d feel a lot better if I had you snuggled up and knew you were safe and sound.”
“Yeah!” Walker exclaimed. Brendan didn’t say anything, but he jumped up.
She gave them both soothing back rubs, and even Brendan succumbed at last to exhaustion. Lia lay awake for a long time, worrying about what had really happened next door and what Brendan had seen that he’d never forget. She’d have to get the true story out of Conall.
Even thinking his name made the ball of misery in her tangle into a snarl she’d never tease apart. The DEA operation was finished. Today or tomorrow, Conall would be leaving.
She’d always known he would, but the unspecified future date had made it hazy enough to be only a vague threat. Suddenly, the end was here.