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“Granny!” I groan. “Whisky isn’t going to help.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You think water or coffee is going to do the trick? Whisky is the only thing that’s going to help. It will put some fire back in her, and usually, that’s all it takes to get someone back on their feet.”
“I mean, help with this. Whisky isn’t going to change what we do.”
My brothers continue to hover anxiously while Ayana keeps fanning Cass’ face. I hold onto her, one hand behind her neck to support it and the other wrapped around her shoulders. Thank goodness she was sitting down when it happened. She’s so light in my arms, even at a deadweight. Her hair is silky on my fingertips, and her face is so freaking angelic, even if it is very pale. My heart stutters in my chest. Yes, stutters. It flaps funnily, and my ventricles fail and putter, then stick and slam back open. With just one hand, I can count the number of things that make my heart go boom, and most of them involve a computer of some sort and a dangerous scenario. Adrenaline is not usually produced for me like this.
“Food,” Ransom mutters. “She needs food.”
“The pie!” Atlas chimes in, and for once, he might be right. “We did bring it for the occasion.”
“Not this occasion,” Orion protests. “But maybe it will work. If Granny’s whisky doesn’t do the trick.”
I shift Cass in my arms, bringing her face closer to mine. I lean in just because I need to feel the tickle of her breath against my cheek. Satisfied that it’s there and it’s strong, I brush my lips over her forehead. I’m not a true love’s first kiss kind of a guy, and this sure as shit isn’t a fairy tale—not only do I not believe in luck, but I also sure as poo in a jar don’t believe in fairy tales—so I can only blame my beard for tickling or brushing Cass’ face all funny and bringing her around that way.
Yeah, I’m sure it was the beard that made her eyes flutter. Her lashes do the butterfly dance a few more times, then her lovely eyes make an appearance. Seeing those sky blues brings me instant relief. I back up an inch, but I can’t keep myself from cupping her soft-as-peach-skin cheeks and brushing my fingers over them, even though my fingers are rough by comparison.
“I’m sorry,” I say thickly while Ayana watches us. My eyes dart to her, and she’s giving me a look of death. Death times two.
“Hurt her,” she mouths, “and I’ll chop your balls off, and they’ll be the thing in the jar.”
“I’ll never hurt her,” I mouth back.
“They’ll never find your body,” Ayana continues mouthing. I didn’t realize she was so schooled in silent verse. I’m a very, very good lip reader. At least, I’m sure she didn’t say, ‘shells sever sore seer soddy.’ Not only because that wouldn’t make sense but because it would be one hell of a tongue twister, and I don’t think right now is the time for that kind of competition.
To be clear, Ayana draws a line across her throat, makes her eyes roll up, and gives me a fake dead face. It’s frightening, especially since I know who her dad is. He’s a straight-up good guy who cares about the community and the guys he has in his club. He’s a good man who Granny mistakenly targeted for us to take down because one of the guys in the club flipped her off after nearly running her over with his bike while she was crossing the street on a crosswalk. Turns out the guy was going through a rough patch, and he was just an arsehole. The club wasn’t up to anything that was even close to no good, and that’s how Ransom met Ayana. He was doing undercover work, bartending at one of Ayana’s dad’s clubs. Either way, Ayana’s threats are given that extra little bit of credence, like spice on a turd in a jar, and I nod solemnly.
I have no plans to hurt Cass. Ever.
Cass’ eyes finally focus on my face, and I sigh in relief. “S—sorry,” she whispers hoarsely. “I don’t know why that just happened.”
“Because we shocked you.” I caress her cheeks with my thumbs again.
Her lips quiver. “I guess I was a tad bit surprised.”
Granny is suddenly at our side, thrusting a glass of whisky at Cass. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Granny!” I admonish sharply as I watch Cass’ eyes get huge. If that wasn’t a dose of metaphorical smelling salts, I don’t know what was.
Granny glances at Ayana, who snorts and shakes her head. “Just have to be sure. It seems to happen around here.” Behind her, I can hear Ransom muttering, but Ayana shakes her head. She’s smiling softly at him, and I know she didn’t take offense to that, which is good, as Granny for sure meant none.
