For the first time, Brogan lost his detachment. “You aren’t listening, Ruth. You’ll get nothing from me. Ever.”
No man should have to tolerate Ruthie’s nonsense after her abuse—that she expected money from Brogan was outrageous.
“You bastard,” Ruthie whispered. “If your daddy dies, you don’t even care, do you? That’s what you’re telling me?”
The rigidity in Brogan’s back and neck proved hedidcare, but caring had never done him any good. Not with them. With Pixie and Andy, he’d find total acceptance. She’d see to it.
“He washed his hands of me long ago,” Brogan said, his tone carefully neutral. “What he does, how he chooses to waste his life, is his business. It has nothing to do with me. Now leave and don’t come back.”
Just then, Andy almost got past her. Pixie caught him at the last second and held on. “Andy,” she whispered. “We have to stay right here.”
“Fend?” Andy called out.
Brogan looked up and spotted them. His frown deepened.
Ruthie used his moment of distraction to grab up a handful of rough gravel from the driveway. Mouth twisted and eyes mean, she hurled it at Brogan. The rocks hit his shoulder and back. One struck the side of his head.
Pixie gasped, taking a step back with Andy and Shayna, an instinctive reaction to danger.
Brogan didn’t flinch, but he did move to block her and the babies. “Inside, Pixie.”
A kaleidoscope of impotent rage whirled through her. If it weren’t for the children, Pixie would gladly put herself in front of Brogan. By God, he deserved protection, too. Instead, he stood there, stoic as Ruthie found a larger chunk of gravel, and then an actual rock.
Without looking back at her, Brogan said, “I need you to go insidenow.”
What Brogan would do, she couldn’t imagine, but Andy definitely didn’t need to see it, and she wouldn’t risk Shayna’s getting hurt.
She said to Ruthie, “You’re evil,” before urging Andy into the house. He didn’t want to go. In a rare defiant mood, her son struggled against her hold.
“Andy Nolan, stop it right now.”
He might not have heard her over Ruthie’s shouting, ugly words about Brogan getting his whole team killed. She threw more rocks, doing her best to egg him on.
Then another car, this one familiar, screeched to a stop on the street right in front of her house. The passenger door of the silver Lexus SUV opened, and as Marlow came barreling around the hood, the headlights highlighted her wrath.
Cort jumped out of the driver’s seat, shouting, “Damn it, Marlow!” as he jogged after her.
Marlow stormed forward, right up to Ruthie to demand, “Whatdo you think you’re doing?”
Immediately, Cort was there beside her, strong and steady, ready to intercede if necessary, but as usual, giving Marlow her space.
Pixie stopped struggling with Andy and instead stood her ground. She maintained her hold on him, but she no longer felt threatened.
Cort and Marlow were here.
Brogan stared at them both, his confounded expression almost funny.
Drawing her first easy breath since Ruthie’s arrival, Pixie called out, “Hello, you two.” Squealing in excitement, Andy almost got away from her again. She held on, quietly reassuring him.
If anything, Ruthie got even more obnoxious—and she still had a rock in her hand. “Who the hell are you?”
Uh-oh.Pixie’s eyes widened.
With one big step, Marlow was in Ruthie’s space, backing her up with a glare and a quietly stated, “I am Marlow Easton. You are a vile trespasser, and I strongly, very strongly, suggest you get in your car and leave the premises immediately.”
Ruthie frowned and opened her mouth.
“Immediately.”
