Page 66

“Just my crutches up here beside me.”

A few minutes later he’d retrieved the crutches and was standing in my bedroom doorway, clearly torn. In that time, my mind had caught up with my body, and I was somewhat relieved we’d been interrupted. I didn’t want to mess Forde around. He deserved better than that.

Still, I hated that he was leaving. While I admired him so much for his volunteer service, it had meant many a night worrying about him out there, especially when they were sent out in storms. Thankfully, tonight seemed fairly calm.

For his sake, I pretended I wasn’t dreading every second without him.

“Keep your phone by your side,” he commanded. “And call Quinn if you need help.”

I grimaced at the thought.

“I mean it, Cameron.”

“I promise.” I shooed him away. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

With one last regretful look, Forde disappeared. My heart picked up speed as I listened to his footsteps hurrying down the staircase, his keys rattling as he collected them from the sideboard, and the front door snicking shut behind him. I heard the lock turn, but that didn’t make me relax.

Self-directed impatience rode me as I inwardly seethed on the bed. When was I going to start feeling safe to be alone again? I couldn’t live like this! It was beyond insufferable.

Only half an hour had passed, and I had awkwardly gotten myself back downstairs, miraculously without breaking anything. I’d had to throw the crutches down first and then brace against the wall as I hopped down one step at a time. I’d barely settled on the couch—tense and stuck in a limbo of not wanting to do anything that made a noise in case I didn’t hear someone trying to break in—when my phone rang.

I jumped in place as the noise surprised me. Then I reached over for the phone and saw my brother’s name and picture on the screen. I hesitated. I wondered if Forde had called him.

A bang on the front door made me cry out.

“Cammie, it’s me!” Quinn’s voice sounded outside. “Stop ignoring me. I’m coming in!”

I gaped from the living room into the hall, listening as the front door unlocked and my big brother strode in. His gaze found me as he closed the door and locked it behind him. Quinn was a few inches taller than Forde with broad shoulders. A scowl marred his handsome face. “I have a key.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Did Forde call you?”

“What do you think?” Quinn shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over the back of the armchair before he settled into it, his long legs sprawled casually in front of him.

“You shouldn’t be here. You should be with Taran.”

“Angus is with Taran.”

“Angus is on the island?” Hurt suffused me. I always knew when my nephew Angus was here. He lived in Oban with his mum and stepdad and visited the island every second weekend and a few weeks during the summer. Sometimes he stayed with me. It used to be the same with Heather before she went off to uni.

“You would know that if you were talking to me.” Quinn shrugged, sounding calm and unflustered.

I’d always been the more hotheaded of the two of us, and his calmness during an argument used to drive me nuts. Taran was the only one who seemed to get under his skin that way, and I had to admit I’d taken delight in watching her fluster him.

“How is Angus?”

“He’s already in his moody teenager phase.” Quinn grimaced. “I miss his jokes.”

Despite the weirdness between us, I felt an ache of sympathy. It had been hard for Quinn when Heather went through her moody teenager phase because she hit it late at around sixteen. Angus was twelve, but I remembered that being a difficult age. “It’s only temporary.”

“I know.” He searched my face. “Is this rift between us only temporary?”

I let out a snort of mock disgust. “Like I could stay mad at you.”

My brother’s lips twitched, but he sobered almost immediately. “I spoke to Mum.”

“Quinn, I don’t⁠—”

“She feels terrible for what she said. She knows it was shitty and even more so to pit us against each other.”