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There she goes again—empathizing with me, trying to comfort me. My life through her eyes had to be pretty bleak. A fact I should find patronizing, but damned if all I was thinking about were those soft hands, and how long I’d last if they were stroking another appendage.
I didn’t confirm or deny the effect it had on me, and Kenzie soon removed her hand. I both mourned the loss and was thankful for it. The Alexander men believed in keeping vows. I had to put distance between me and her—emotional distance at the very least.
Picking out a random landmark, I launched into its history for the duration of the ride. If I was talking, I wasn’t thinking about the burning handprint she left on my skin.
Kenzie fell asleep halfway there. I didn’t let Sienna wake her when we returned to the Fairfield. Reaching in, I lifted her in my arms. She was like a sack of feathers. Eight months living on the streets would do that to you. What it didn’t do was make her a smidge less beautiful.
You’ve lived a life harder than mine. Harder than most people, I thought, gazing down at her. How did you hang on to kindness, compassion, or hope?
“You can do it.”
I raised my head. “Do what?”
“Make a different choice. Have everything you think you don’t deserve.”
“Mackenzie told you,” I replied, voice flat.
“She didn’t tell me anything, and I didn’t have a vision either. My sister isn’t the only observant person around here. I see the way you look at her, and then shake your head like you’re chasing away a stupid thought. Let me guess: I can’t abandon my self-imposed exile for this woman I just met, nor can I ask her to hide in exile with me. It just can’t work. There are no good choices.”
I observed her, silently adjusting my opinion of the youngest Blaine. She was one to watch too.
She lifted her shoulders. “If there are no good choices, toss them and pick different ones. I want my sister to be happy. It’s too soon to say if you’re good enough for her, but if you are, it’d be great for once if good men ran to her, instead of running away. Not like the life she’s live, where every slimy, creeping slug of a man chases her down.”
“There are plenty of good men out there happy and willing to give your sister everything she deserves. That guy is not me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not a good man.”
The reply ended the conversation.
Mackenzie stirred as I carried her into her room, placing her on the bed. She blinked up at me—eyes wide, beautiful, and trusting. I turned to go.
“Thank you for what you said today.” I stopped in my tracks. “You weren’t supposed to show that you gave a crap about me, but you warned Athena, Ryker, and Makai off anyway.”
“No problem,” I lofted, and tried to leave again. Tried to keep the same breezy tone. I failed at both attempts. Shifting to face Mackenzie, I adopted calm, serious, and open—all I fought not to be. “You know... I can teach you.”
“Teach me? Teach me what?”
I traced the edge of her split lip, stopping the breath in her chest. “To fight, Mackenzie. I can turn you into someone no one will talk back to. No one but the stupidest fool would threaten you. They’ll think twice before hitting you, or taking away what’s yours. I can teach you, Kenzie... to be a Merchant.”
She reached for me—so slow I could’ve stopped her. Kenzie cupped my cheek.
“If I say yes,” she whispered, “will you let me teach you too?”
Gently, I drew away, chancing the barest kiss on her fingertips as I pulled back. I shut the door behind me, fearing I started the countdown to impending disaster.
MACKENZIE
Sunny dug into the spot between my shoulder blades, rippling pleasure and pain down my spine. Between my nap, Shonda’s cooking, and Sunny’s after-dinner massage, I felt like me again.
“Caught Athena and Makai huddled in a corner, whispering,” he repeated. “What would those two be up to?”
“What could they be up to?”
He moved up to my shoulders. We were in his bedroom, me relaxing on the chaise while I relayed my day.
“Makai is my enforcer. Athena’s my smash-and-grabber.”
Sunny explained the term to me the night before. Athena led the group of women who broke into armored cars, robbed the occasional house, and raided the odd safe-deposit box. Smash in and grab.
He swore they weren’t on a crusade of mindless theft. The opposite, Athena recovered paintings, jewelry or documents from soulless rich bags who took from those who couldn’t fight back. Like a sweet couple who sold a gold bracelet gifted by their grandmother to pay for a medical treatment for their daughter. It came out later the bracelet was ten times more valuable than Maxwell Gold Company quoted, and when they tried to get the bracelet back, they were told to fork over twenty grand or crack their asses on the tough shit.
