Page 113 of Beautiful Scars

“Spoke to her last night.”

“And?” She glances up at me, asking the question so quietly it’s like she’s afraid of the answer.

Me too, princess.

“And nothing has changed. This weekend, you’ll become a Hendry, and you won’t need to concern yourself with your mum ever again.”

Meisie nods her head briefly and looks back down at her bowl. “And after?”

After? Does she mean with her mum? I’ll take care of all of that. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that.”

I expected to see her smile. But she doesn’t. She just looks blankly down at her half-eaten bowl.

“You done?”

She doesn’t even look my way. “Sure.”

***

It’s a cracking day, which isn’t something you get to say a lot living in this cold, wet, and downright brutal part of the world.

But the sun is shining and there’s not a cloud in the sky. This could all change within the next hour and I wouldn’t put money on it not ending with a blizzard, but for now it’s decent.

And I have something I want to show her.

It was actually Sarah’s idea, so I can’t take the credit. She told me Meisie had been asking questions about the venue and that she’s probably nervous about it. Apparently, a normal bride at a normal wedding visits a rake of places and goes on tours before settling on the best one.

This was all news to me.

But since Meisie mentioned it, I figure she might feel better if I show her. And I’ve realized thatmaybegetting her out of the house might be just as good a remedy as throwing her around between the sheets.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” I tell her, patting her arse. It was more of a slap but an extremely gentle one.

She rubs her eyes with her fists, and then does a double take. “What the fuck is going on?”

“What, did you think the whole pushing drugs and trafficking girls ‘Don Cillianos’ act was three hundred and sixty-five days of the year?”

She looks me up and down, from the dark denim jeans to the white polo-shirt, and scrunches up her nose. “I feel like I’ve woken up in a parallel universe.”

“But youarestill attracted to me in this one,” I state, walking around the room to the drawers and pulling things out. “It’s a nice day, you should wear a dress.”

I turn around to catch her lifting an eyebrow. “Oh, should I?”

“Aye. Now move your arse. We’ve got a busy day. We’ll get breakfast on the way.”

She slinks off the bed wrapped in the sheet. “Where are we going?”

“To see the castle. On second thought, don’t wear a dress. It’ll still be fuckingbalticup there, no doubt.”

She smiles as I throw her a pair of jeans. “I assume that means cold. Good to know. I’ll put these on under my wedding dress.”

I sit down on the chair in the far corner while she gets ready. “No chance. If I need to wear a skirt, you can wear a dress.”

Meisie stops what she’s doing with one leg inside her jeans and one leg out. “I’m sorry—what?”

I grin at her. “Your bridesmaid insisted. Forest green kilts all round.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Christ.”