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“Ronnie is dead. That’s what!” I scream across the kitchen. Braelynn goes rigid in my arms. “He’s dead and she’s mine.” The finality and viciousness in my words are unexpected. As is the wide-eyed shock that flickers across my oldest brother’s face. Jase stands beside him. Both men are powerful, deadly and my elders. Both of them have killed for me. They would die for me.
I can’t remember a time in my life when I’ve seriously fought with any of them. All my life they’ve protected me. I’ve never once thought of going against them. Fuck, I only live to protect them and what we have together. I’d be dead if they weren’t here. I know it. And yet, in this moment, I hate them.
“Carter,” Daniel says from beside me, attempting to ease the tension, just as Jase sets a bowl down in front of Braelynn, who hasn’t loosened her grip on me in the least. The silver spoon slides along the rim of the bowl and the faint sound is all that can be heard in the kitchen as my brothers stare at me. Waiting and watching. I ignore them and turn my attention to her.
“Eat, Braelynn,” I command her, but she doesn’t move, other than the trembling. She doesn’t even look at me.
“Declan,” Carter starts and Daniel tries to appease him. “Maybe now isn’t—” Daniel says, but it’s to no avail.
With Daniel seated beside me expressing concern for her and Jase standing behind me with a different concern altogether, Carter looks between the three of us.
All I can do is bring my focus back to her.
She’s so small and vulnerable. Her hair still soaking wet, her body still shaking.
I’m on edge and feel everything slipping. “Eat,” I tell her, a hardness coming over me as she stares at Carter rather than at me. Gripping her chin, I force her gaze to mine. “Eat.”
“Did she tell you—” Carter starts again and my fist slams against the table. The spoon rattles against the porcelain bowl and Daniel leans back. Braelynn’s nails dig into my skin as she struggles to hide under the blanket, making herself even smaller than she already is.
“Leave it, Carter,” I tell him, my jaw tense, my fist still at the ready.
Daniel stands slowly and with a grip on Jase’s elbow, ushers him out.
“We should go,” he says loud enough for Carter to hear. His gaze drops from me down to a petrified Braelynn.
I ignore him. He’s done far worse than I. If I want her, I will keep her. That is something a man like him should easily understand. It doesn’t explain the flurry of agony and loathing that consume me in this moment when I look down and she stares back at him in fear, rather than listening to me.
Just as the thought enters my mind that I don’t owe them a fucking explanation, I know I do. I know she’s a threat to us all.
“Eat,” I command her and she buries her head in the crook of my neck.
I position her how I’d like her, needing her to fucking listen. She needs warmth. With both hands on her hips, not giving a fuck about the blanket, I force her to sit forward. “You will eat, Braelynn,” I seethe. The words are spoken from between gritted teeth and with her eyes shut tight, a gasp of a sob leaving her, she reaches for the spoon with shaking hands but she can’t grasp it.
I hate them. I hate them all. I hate my fucking life and who I am.
Carter is to my left, still standing in the same place he was when I entered. There wasn’t a single attempt from him to help. He says, “Declan, you need—”
Fuck him.
“She’s mine!” Lowering my voice and swallowing the lump in my throat, I bring my gaze level with his and tell him, “I will do with her as I see fit.”
My tone and words are careful, the threat they contain thinly veiled.
He stares me down for a fraction of a second before finally joining my other brothers to leave. The tension in my shoulders keeps them stiff, until I can no longer hear their footsteps.
I’m left only with a deep wound that’s unfamiliar but aches, and a broken Braelynn who doesn’t dare look me in the eyes as she cries in my arms.
“Eat,” I say, and the single word is softer than before. Gentle and kind, and I hope she hears the remorse I feel. I take the bowl into my own hands and lift a spoonful of the soup to my mouth to blow on it, and to test the temperature before bringing it to her lips.
She’s still shivering slightly, but when the first bite is swallowed, her eyes close with a comforting murmur. It’s slight, but with tearstained cheeks and color barely suffusing her lips, I’ll take the small sign of life from her as a blessing.
The spoon tinks as I dip into the bowl for more warm broth for her.
Whispering gently for her to open her mouth, she obeys and then readjusts in my lap, pulling the blanket tighter around her.
“You’re going to eat it all, my little pet. And then I’ll decide what to do with you.”
BRAELYNN
