I have to look away. The compassion in her eyes brings back the old sadness that clings to me. The waves of pain that surface when I think of Eve. When I remember the ache of her loss. Just when I think the wound has scabbed over, something else reminds me of her all over again. Breena’s laugh, or the twinkle in her eye. When the early roses bloom in spring. They were her favorite.
I swallow hard but it doesn’t help. There’s still a lump in my throat.
She shouldn’t have died.
It’s why I’ve done what I have and why I’ll continue.
I hate the thought of anyone in the Clan thinking I betrayed them, but Christ, if only… if only they knew, maybe they’d understand.
“I’m alright,” I lie with a sigh.
I reach for Breena’s free hand, and the three of us walk hand in hand to the door. I kiss her sweet cheek when I leave her with Maeve.
I have more than one job to do today.Chapter 8MeganI know who my cousins are, what they do. And even if I deceived myself into believing that they weren’t outlaws who flaunted the law, conversations with their wives would prove otherwise.
But Carson... I have to let myself believe he’s good. I have to. He seems distant sometimes, brooding, and I don’t know if it’s just who he is, if it’s because he’s still grieving the loss of Eve, or...something else.
I want to know who he really is, what makes him tick. What his heart longs for and how he deals with the loss of Eve. Though all the men of the Clan share similar traits in some ways, they’re all so very different as well.
My phone rings, and I answer it quickly. It’s the head nurse at the hospital.
“We’ve had several discharges today,” she tells me. “And for once we have enough staff. Fancy taking the day off? You worked three doubles last week.”
A day off. The concept is utterly decadent.
“Aye,” I tell her. “Thank you.”
But I don’t tell anyone. I need to think, to process.
I need to read that diary. I feel as if it’s the key to Carson; it’ll help me understand him better. My conscience pricks me, telling me it isn’t right to read the diary of my friend. But she’s not here anymore. I am. Carson is. And I know she hid that diary for a reason.
I consider going to my room, so I can lock the door and have privacy. Eve lived in Stone City. She and I spent many a night there, and something about that place brought out a part of her she kept hidden when she was here. I have so many memories with Eve in Stone City. My cousins think nothing of it at all. They think it a useless, seedy place, and in recent years, much of it has gone to rot. But there’s the little creek where Eve and I drank shots of moonshine she bought from an old woman she knew who lived by the creek. The little shop that sells homespun sweets, and the used book shop we’d frequent run by an older couple who’d ply us with steaming mugs of tea.
I make up my mind. I’m going there. I can’t explain to anyone why or how I’m going, so I decide to keep it to myself. Sometimes, when you’re under the protection of men like my cousins, it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.
So I leave as if I’m going to work. Nolan sees me by the garden. Though he and Sheena live off property now because they needed more room, they’re here more often than not. I think it’s the pull of family.
He tries to flag me down, but I pretend I don’t see him beyond the wave hello.
I see a flash of red hair behind him. Sheena? My heart beats a little faster. She’s an investigative reporter, and my gut says she’d see right through me. It’s like living with a damn detective on your property.I walk down the path that leads to the garage, where the family cars are parked. We walk almost everywhere we can, but today I need my car, and no one tagging along behind me. I roll my eyes heavenward. The protection of the Clan is nice sometimes, but… well, at other times, a girl needs a little freedom.
I blink in surprise when I find Lachlan in the garage, leaning under the hood of one of the cars. I try to leave before he sees me, but it’s too late.
“What’s the story, Megan?”
Dammit. They’re everywhere, like those little black ants that traipse after your picnic basket.
“Didn’t know you were here, just getting my car,” I say.
He puts the hood of the car down and wipes his hand on a rag. Damn. He’s bare from the waist up, glistening with sweat, and like all the men of the Clan, heavily muscled and inked. More than once I’ve thought, if I were a younger woman… But no. I don’t go for the young sort. He’s as much a brother to me as any of them.