Crickets. I expected some type of ribbing but neither of them have said a thing. Chancing a glance in their direction I frown when I see the looks on their faces. Looks of shock and disgust.
“Who the hell are you talking about?” Saint spits. “Not my niece, that’s for sure. Not unless she tricked you into all that. Sagey-Girl is a sweetheart, but she ain’t that sweet, soft or kind.”
My brows dip even lower at his words.
“Seriously, brother. She’s our eldest niece, Blanche’s eldest daughter. We taught her everything she needs to know to survive, which includes, and isn’t limited to, guns, knives, knuckle dusters, jiu jitsu -” he lists all these things on his fingers.
“Karate for a bit,” Omen offers as Vex takes one look at my face and then snorts.
“Yup, karate, kick boxing and archery,” Saint finishes.
“You think Cove is scary? Sage is worse because she’s quieter, more thoughtful -”
“Cunning, I’d say,” Vex says, interrupting Omen. He slaps me so hard on the shoulder I swear my guts almost fall out. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine, living in a little house with her, all alone with no one to hear you scream.”
All three Landry brothers laugh out loud at my expense and I can’t say I don’t deserve it. I know what I did. I know I was wrong and I’ve been paying for it ever since I let Sage close that door behind her. What a fucking idiot.
“Here she is,” Loyal sing songs, dragging Sage and Joe up the little porch steps before unlocking the door.
“Wait! Don’t you want your husband to carry you over the threshold?” Omen wiggles his brows and Sage gives him a blank stare.
Omen laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world and I’m tempted to march up those steps, scoop her up into my arms and carry her through the doorway as I should. Then I remember the sweat on my forehead and upper lip from the effort of walking here with my stomach wound and I think better of it.
“Up she goes!” Damian says, scooping up a giggling Sage and carrying her through the doorway.
“That fucker is skating on thin fucking ice,” I mutter to myself.
“You can’t kill the prospect,” Saint sings. “We need him. And his momma.” I huff out a breath and slowly follow behind.
Walking through the front door I’m met with a magazine worthy-cabin. Sage must agree because I can hear her cooing about how cute everything is as she wanders around the small space.
“This is darling! Who decorated this place? It’s like a magazine,” she exclaims, her voice awed.
“It was Justice and Damian. Don’t ask me why but them boys got taste,” Joe says in her sassy way.
Sage shoots Damian an impressed look before she notices me standing in the doorway. “This will be my room. There’s another down the hall for you. Unfortunately we’ll have to share a bathroom but I’m sure we can figure that all out.”
I don’t say anything. Just purse my lips and nod. What is there to say? Sorry I fucked up? Sorry I fucked you and then dumped you? Sorry that I’m a piece of shit and you’re a fucking angel? Sorry, I love you? So many things to say sorry for, and none of them will ever make up for what I did. I fist my clammy palms and move as quickly as I can to the front door. I need air. I need to take a breath and try to swallow down this suffocating feeling in my chest. I need-
“You need Pops.” A phone is thrust at me from someone in my peripheral and I don’t have the ability to even say no.
I have no voice and no fucking wits about me other than to put the phone to my ear.
“Kid? You there?”
“Yeah,” I rasp out as I try to breathe through my nose and out of my mouth.
“Finally hit ya like a kick in the balls. Takes your breath away, huh?” Pops doesn’t even wait for me to answer. “Wheeze once if you want to make this right.” I blow out a long breath. “Good choice. If you said no I would have got Carmelita out of the garage, broken the speed limit to Louisiana, cut open all those pretty stitches my grandbaby worked so hard on and dragged out your fucking liver. Instead, I will send you Love Pres coaching. Check your email.” With that he hangs up abruptly and I’m left squatting in the dirt, breathing a little easier and wondering what the fuck just happened.
“Sage has chosen her house, now it’s time for you to go pack your shit. You’re moving out, brother.”
Sage
I drag my eyes from Chef’s form as he squats in the garden looking like he’s going to barf, and instead set my sights on Joe and Loyal. If I’m going to be living here I may as well make some friends. I mean, sure, we know each other well enough to politely hang out, but if I’m going to do this I need something deeper. Something like what my mom has with her friends.
“So, do you wanna start a girl gang with me?” I ask. I try for bluster, but I think it comes out uncertain.
Joe and Loyal share a look before wide smiles take over their faces. “Hell yeah! We’ve had experience with your gal gang, and I liked what I saw,” Joe says giddily.