Page 47 of Keeping Score

“Thanks.”

Chapter Eleven

Maggie

Iwas jittery, as if I’d just downed three Red Bulls in consecutive order. A feat I’d only done a handful of times in my career—and only for very important cases.

But tonight? The energy thrumming through me had nothing to do with caffeine. Only the nerves of the scene I’d set up and what it would mean for the future of my family.

Liam got there first.

I didn’t know if that was preferable. But I didn’t have time to mentally debate it because he was already sliding down into the chair across from me, side-eyeing the chair to the right of me.

“Is Brody coming?” he asked.

“No,” I started, voice feeling caught in my throat.

I didn’t know what I was doing. It was possible I was in over my head, but I knew I had to try or I would regret it forever.

I needed a backup plan—the way everyone else had.

People had their relationships of their choosing—boyfriends, best friends, spouses… but you couldn’t really rely on them. Not the way you could family.

I knew Brody loved me. I did.

But there was always the possibility something could go wrong. A crack could appear that he might not feel like patching up. If that were the case, he would have his entire family to turn to. He’d never be really alone.

But me?

My family was scattered. Broken.

I couldn’t stand the idea of it. Not if I knew I had the chance to repair it.

We were adults now. We could do it. Put aside the past and move forward together. Right?

“Weird spot for dinner, Mags.” Liam arched a brow, looking around the dimly lit restaurant. “I figured we’d just get pizza or something.”

I scrunched the napkin in my lap, feeling like my heart was pounding out of my chest.

“Liam, I have to tell you something—” I started, but my words evaporated into the air at the sound of Liam sucking in a sharp breath.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Liam glared in the direction of the door.

I turned, following his gaze to watch as our father walked in, handing his coat to the doorman.

“I invited him.” I looked Liam dead in the eye.

I couldn’t back down now.

“What the f—”

“And before you say anything, or storm out, I want you to try. For me. Give him a chance.”

Liam’s eyes radiated hatred. Rage. And even though I knew it was directed more toward our father than me, I still shifted uncomfortably under the weight of it.

“How many times have I told you—” he said, standing from his seat, nearly sending the chair toppling behind him.

“Liam,” I said through gritted teeth. “Sit down.”