Chapter 61
Aaron doesn’t budge.
I can feel the tension rising between them.
I smile at my brother to try and lighten the mood.
He mumbles something. I’m not a wolf but I can smell the booze on him. It’s like a cloud of alcohol. Well, duh, dad d ied. Of course he may have gone on a bender. I’ve never had that luxury. Which is probably a good thing. I keep my emotions walled up tight. One drunken night might crack those walls and I imagine I’ll be a mess if I ever let all these bottled feelings free.
I look at Aaron, willing him to back up. He’s crowding both of us and it’s like a dog marking his territory.
I don’t want him here.
But I know if I’m not careful, I might reignite an all-out war.
“Come on, honey,” Aaron says. “You should go inside and get cleaned up. You need to rest. To eat.”
Honey? Honey?
In the last few days, he’s dropped more endearments than in all the years I’ve known him.
I’ve had the occasional “princess” but even those were relayed with a sense of derision. The niceties now… There is no cause for them.
I don’t care how they make me feel. It’s too little too late, and given all he’s done to me and my family, there’s no resurrecting our relationship.
But I don’t say any of this.
I smile sweetly. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”
Aaron smiles like I handed him the sun.
Liam looks between us, his brow creasing. “Uh, okay. Let me show you up to your room.”
As we cross the wide open space before the main house-a massive Colonial with huge wh ite pillars and four stories of brick-I’m caught by the disrepair.
The paint is peeling off the shutters.
The flowerbeds are overrun with weeds.
What used to be a wide expanse of manicured lawns is sparse and patchy.
Aaron walks beside me. His presence is big and looming, dangerous. But I don’t feel threatened, at least, not immediately.
His dark eyes are sharp and they’re assessing…everything. I see
him analyzing windows, doors, points of entry. He even turns backwards at one point and scans the buildings in the distance, likely judging which angles would befit a sniper.
War is so ingrained in this man.
It’s sad really.
“Hey,” I whisper.
He catches my hand, squeezes.
I’m not looking for tenderness, I just want him to quit accusing my family so much. It hurts the way he views them as enemies. His judgment of them is a reflection of me.
When I step inside the great house, into the main foyer and follow my brother into the great room, I’m inundated with shock by what I see!
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