16. Cody
Cody
“ E verything’ll be okay. You know that, right?”
Her gaze doesn’t drift away from the window.
I’ve never had a sister-in-law before, so the last thing I want is to fuck this up, but?—
“You can’t promise that.”
My cheeks gust at the soft words. When I take her family history into consideration—both parents dead before she was legally an adult—I can see where she’s coming from.
And that isn’t taking my family history into consideration either.
“Security helps.”
“Strangers,” she grumbles.
“Hey, we were strangers until you married my brother.” I gently nudge her elbow.
I chance a quick glance at her when the road ahead’s barren of life and spy a soft smile curving her lips. I’m not fucking this up too badly. That’s something.
“I feel dumb,” she admits.
“For?”
“Just thinking this could be normal.”
“Colton made it appear normal,” I disagree. “But that was before a lot of things happened that were outside of his control. Now that he’s not just the heir, but the owner of Seven Cs Inc., to us, he’s the same man as ever. It’s the rest of the world, who frankly suck, that we have to watch out for.”
“I should have realized that for myself.”
“How could you have? As far as I remember, this was a quick deal. You never figured you’d fall in love with the doofus.”
She snickers. “He is a doofus, isn’t he?”
“Sure is. Because he should have had this conversation with you before. Have to reason he only hasn’t because you never leave the ranch.”
“I’m leaving it on Saturday and I left it today!”
“As a defense, that isn’t really working,” I say wryly. “Twice in a blue moon?”
She sniffs. “Nothing to leave it for.”
“The only reason none of us are pushing you on this is?—”
“Because it’s none of your business,” is her sweet-as-high-fructose-corn-syrup reply.
“It’s Colt’s, and what worries him, worries us,” I chide. “But Callan’s just as bad as you are.”
“Callan’s fine.”
“Sure he is. But his reasons for staying home aren’t yours, are they?”
“He hates Pigeon Creek too.”
“He doesn’t care if it, or the townsfolk, hate him back.”
“He’s a Korhonen?—”
“So are you.”
“Are you trying to convince me to go out when I’ll be in danger now?”
“You won’t be in danger. You’ll have security with you.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to pop into Harold’s Bakery with a bodyguard,” she shrieks.
“No, but you could send in the bodyguard for butter tarts…”
That stops her mid-freakout. “You mean I’d never have to talk to any of those fuckers again?”
“They’re not all fuckers.”
“Not to you.”
“No,” I concede.
Jesus, did I make a bad situation worse?
Pigeon Creek isn’t perfect, and the people are just that—people. Some are dicks; some are saints. But writing them off as fuckers speaks of a past that isn’t my place to fix.
I get why she’s isolated, I get why she doesn’t trust them, but…
“You’re a Korhonen, Zee.”
“It shouldn’t matter.”
“Not saying it’s right, not saying it’s fair, but you own the town. You’re not a little girl anymore. You. Own. The. Town.”
“Colt does.”
“What’s his is yours.”
“Only because the fool didn’t make me sign a prenup,” she grouches on a sigh. “Honestly, he has no self-preservation skills. Which this entire conversation attests to.”
“Good thing you’ve no desire to hurt him, then.”
“Or leave him. He’s lucky I love him.” She gusts out her cheeks. “So, he’ll need a bodyguard too, won’t he?”
“With all those billions in the bank? Duh. He might argue, but he can. Callan and I will wrangle him under our control.”
“I’d pay to see that.”
“You’re a Korhonen,” I repeat. “You get front-row seats for free.”
Her chuckle tells me we turned a corner without me really knowing how we did, but hey, it’s better than nothing.
Of course, an unintended perk to all of this is that if Zee has a bodyguard when she’s out, and Tee will be with her because they’re glued at the hip… she’ll be protected too.
That pleases me more than I can ever admit out loud.
Fuck, Tee is...
I don’t think there’s an adjective for what she is.
Luminous.
Like a fireworks display on July 1st.
Eyes darting everywhere, trying to spot all the pretties, but there are too damn many pretties to catch up…
When she called me Daddy, I wanted to haul her onto the trunk and ravage her goddamn mouth until those pretty lips were sore from my kisses.
“Cody?”
I blink at the road. “Sorry. My mind drifted onto work. We had a busy day.”
Not.
In all honesty, this gig in Pigeon Creek is exactly the break I need, even if I’m bored by it.
The biggest trouble we’ve had is this MC bullshit. Beyond that, we had to deal with some fights over at the casino and a teacher at the local boarding school calling us in because a pupil tossed paint at her car.
In comparison to stopping Russia from taking over any more of NATO turf, this is the kind of headache I need.
“Do you want some?”
Spying the now-open bag of trail mix Tee tossed at her, I smile and accept a handful when she pours it onto the palm I hover in front of her.
She’s always gnawing on the stuff. Honestly, I never took into account how hard it is to live with Type-1 diabetes until I watched Tee watch Zee. The thirdhand stress is a fucker.
“This a peace offering?” I ask before I toss the handful into my mouth.
“We’re at war?”
“Nah. But… if you could frame this whole conversation nicely to Colt and not include me in it, I’d appreciate it.”
She snorts. “Scared of big bro?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, yeah. Sure, I am.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I’d prefer him not to think that I freaked you out.”
“I’ll blame Tee. She seems to get away with murder with Colt.”
My brow furrows. “I noticed that.”
Her melodious laughter draws a sharp glance from me. “It’s because he’s grateful for her.”
“Why?”
“Coming home to the boondocks to keep me happy.” The plastic wrapper in her hand crinkles as she siphons through it for dried cranberries. “Like he’s not enough to do that.”
“You should probably reassure him…”
“By visiting Pigeon Creek more?”
“There or Saskatoon.”
“Maybe.” She purses her lips. “She gets under your skin, doesn’t she?”
I blink again. “Tee?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Whose skin? Colt’s?”
“No.” She hoots. “He can’t decide if she’s a Venusian or a Martian. He’s just glad she’s there to keep me company. I meant you.”
“I guess.”
“You can tell me. I won’t say anything.”
“There’s nothing to say,” I mutter grimly. Grim because that’s the long and the short of it—there’s nothing to goddamn say.
Yet.
“How is it being home?”
“Weird.” I cut her a look. “Why?”
“Just asking.”
“It’s good. What I need. Didn’t know I needed it, of course.”
She laughs. “I feel that. You’re not regretting coming back, are you?”
“No.” I cluck my tongue. “Colt’s worried?”
“Doesn’t want you to leave. Likes you home.”
“He’s such a pussy.”
“Hey! That’s my husband you’re talking about.”
“Okay, Ms. Possessive?—”
“ Mrs. Possessive,” she corrects instantly.
I grin. “What about you?”
“I like being at the ranch.”
“You turning agoraphobic?”
“Nope. And I’d know. One of my best friends is .”
“Wait, there’s no way Tee is agoraphobic.”
“Nah. Parker. She lives in Ohio. Has Colt said something to you about me being…?”
So, Parker was ‘P.’
“Colt keeps his Zee-shaped cards close to his vest. I was just checking.”
“He does?”
“Yup. He’s territorial. Can’t blame him either.”
“Why? Though, I’m definitely not a tree?—”
Before she can go off on a tangent, I insert, “Clyde used to think it was a game to steal his girlfriends.”
“He told me that once. God. What a jerk.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Who the hell would take him over Colt?” She doesn’t give me time to answer. “Did he steal any of yours?”
“No. He treated me differently. Same with Cole.”
“The ones who left?”
“Yeah.” I scrub a hand over my jaw. “God only knows why. The man’s fucked in the head.”
“Do you... miss him?”
A bark of laughter breaks out before I can dial it down. “No.”
My mind drifts back to that day in the hospital when he called me defective.
It wasn’t the first insult he’d ever given me, but it had landed.
“Let’s just say I never would have voted to give him the father of the year award.” I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “Tee has a good relationship with her parents, doesn’t she?”
“She does. Angela and her lock horns though. It drives Tee mad but...” She releases a sigh. “From someone who lost their parents young, she’s lucky. Angela wants her to be settled. Safe. Happy. That means being married and having a good job or having kids or, you know, the usual society stuff. But Tee isn’t like that.”
“You don’t think she wants to settle down?”
Her nose scrunches. “I think Tee wants someone to love her and to love in turn. I don’t think that involves wearing an apron and suddenly having a fascination with cleaning bathrooms.”
“She isn’t the homebody sort, is she?”
“Oh, she is. But housekeeping? Nope. She loves that Mrs. Abelman has an army of staff who cleans the house. It leaves her to her music.
“The funny thing is her family is musical. But they were also very practical. Tee is not that.”
“No,” I agree, and that’s what I like best about her. “When I was at their house, there was a conversation about her taking up teaching at the school.”
Zee crunches on a nut. “I knew they’d started in on that again.”
“Why?”
“She was asking me if Colt minded her living in and not contributing. I don’t blame her for asking. I still can’t get over how generous he’s being.”
I let loose a bark of laughter. “Zee, if Colt thought a colony of penguins would make you smile, he’d have figured out a way to have some imported.”
A smile dances on her lips. “Shut up.”
“I’m being serious. By comparison, your best friend living with us is relatively cheap.”
“With that comparison, yes.”
“I mean it. Surely, he?—”
“He said the same thing. Plus, he likes that she’s on my ass about the whole blood sugar stuff.”
“There you go. She’s your keeper.”
“I should be offended, but I’m not. I love having her here. But if he’s hoping she’ll start dragging me out into the world, he’s doomed. She only goes out because she’s on the hunt for a partner.”
“A partner?”
“She told me she’s attracted to women, but I think she means... soul mate. She’ll take either gender.”
So, Tee came out.
Interesting .
We make small talk for the rest of the ride home, but upon arriving, and after I’ve helped bring in the new wardrobe that took up my entire trunk, my first port of call is Callan’s room.
Cole warned me about the kid’s penchant for cam girls, so I make sure to knock. When he yells, “Come in,” I peer around the door for double security.
He’s working though, his gaze darting between the many screens he has on his desk.
“You should have an office,” I greet.
“Wouldn’t be able to sleep without the humming from my computers,” he disagrees, turning to me with a raised brow. “What’s up?”
“The security stuff triggered a blood-sugar spike.”
“I got the alert. It’s good Tee’s here. I don’t have to have palpitations when they’re together. As much as I wish the subject was avoidable, it wasn’t.”
Something in his tone has my eyes narrowing. “What do you know, Callan?”
He lifts his hands. “Nothing.”
“You better not be lying to me,” I warn.
“I’m not.” His attention switches to one of the computer screens and back again.
That split-second shift just confirmed it. “You goddamn are! What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“I think I’ll let Tee know that you were curious about prostate massaging?—”
“Do you know about Dove Bay?” he blurts out.
“Dove what?”
He ducks his head. “I told Colt to tell you about it.”
“What is it?”
“A sanctuary.”
“For what? Doves?”
“No. Domestic abuse survivors.”
“Of course it is.” What the fuck else would it be? I pinch the bridge of my nose as I ponder the urgency in which Callan’s been bringing up security—twice daily for the past couple days. Our situation has admittedly changed, but I know him too well to think he isn’t a duplicitous little shit. “Let me guess... one of the exes is sniffing around?”
“Maybe,” he mumbles. “I never underestimate these asswipes, but this one has a lot of money to back him.”
“Colt knows?”
“He’s aware of the situation. I told him to arrange for the woman to move on, but he said it wouldn’t be fair.”
“How long do they stay with us?”
“Usually until their injuries are healed or until they request to leave. They don’t like to be in one place for too long.”
“Where do you send them?”
“Depends. Sometimes to shelters across the country. A few times we’ve created new identities for them so they can stay in Canada, and other times we figure out how to get them overseas.”
“Why haven’t you with this one?” And why is this the first goddamn time I’m hearing about any of this? Not only as a brother, but as chief fucking marshal.
“Because she hasn’t asked to, and when Mrs. Abelman laid out her options, she cried.”
For a hardass, Mrs. Abelman can’t stand it when women cry.
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “I want a security report on this situation by tomorrow.”
He rolls his eyes. “Sir, yes, sir.”
“Less of the attitude, Callan. You should have fucking told me before now.”
“I know.”
“What the hell’s Colt playing at?”
“He doesn’t see any more of a risk than usual. She isn’t the first high-profile person we’ve had staying with us. I-I guess because we’ve never been discovered, he feels safe.”
“The world is never safe.”
His focus sharpens. “From one paranoid person to another, that’s hella deep.”
Maybe.
It also changes the tenor of why I came to his room.
“You still have Tee’s location?”
“Why?”
I scowl at him. “Because there’s some asshole ex who might want to use her as a bargaining chip to get his wife back?”
His eyes flare wide. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, oh, shit . If you’d warned me, we could have taken precautions already!”
It’s tough sometimes to remember that Callan’s still a kid. He’s so fucking smart, and the weight of the universe lives rent free on his shoulders, but he’s not a pro at this.
Whatever he’s learned comes from books, and as helpful as that is, he’s still na?ve.
To be honest, I want to keep him that way.
He’s already too burdened by the bullshit from our childhood. The last thing I want is to make things worse.
But Colt? He has zero excuses. I’m going to tear him a new one the second I lay eyes on him. Not just for keeping me in the dark, but for thinking our eighteen-year-old brother could handle managing the ranch’s security on his own.
When my phone dings, he murmurs, “I sent it to you. It won’t be what you’re used to. I kinda cloned it.”
“Thank you.” My lips purse because that’s probably illegal, but it’s the least of my worries. “I want you to brief me tomorrow on the entire situation. From where the cameras are positioned to what security guards are stationed where. I want to know every fucking thing about this ranch and its security, Callan, you copy?”
His mouth works, and I’m a hair away from steamrolling over his complaint before he sags, his eyes drifting to a close for a millisecond before he nods at me.
That is when I realize Callan is relieved.
“I’ll get everything ready,” he says, voice eager.
The urge to drag him into a hug is strong, but I settle for moving deeper into his room so I can clap a hand on his shoulder and squeeze.
“I’ll take over from here, Cal. You’ve done a great job so far, though.”
“You haven’t seen my setup yet,” he points out, but fuck, his voice is shy.
Shame for letting him bear this weight for so damn long hits me, but I shove it aside because it won’t get us anywhere. “I know you, kid. You don’t half-ass anything.”
He’s beaming when I leave, not because of the compliment, but because the weight’s off him and onto someone he trusts.
Hell, I could handle this shit in my sleep, but there’s no denying that everything shifts when it’s personal.
I grab my cell and check out Tee’s current position, then I go to my room and quickly shower and change.
There’s no time to waste, but every step of my journey, I check her position and find she’s right where she was last—some bar in the center of the city.
For all that she’s safe in a crowd, I rush and use my pickup to drive back to Saskatoon.
Luckily, no one sees me on the way out or I’d have to explain what the hell it is I’m doing, and I don’t really have words for that.
Sure, I want to protect Tee from any danger she might be in, but that wasn’t why I went to Callan’s bedroom.
It’s telling how he didn’t pick up on my real reason for visiting him before dinner, but I don’t linger on that. Instead, once I’m on the road, I hit Colt’s name.
No way I can wait until tomorrow to yank his head out of his ass?—
“When the fuck were you going to tell me about Dove Bay?” I demand when he picks up.
And so beginneth the lube-less reaming.