Chapter 52
Chapter fifty-two
Tom
Bzzzz. Bzzzz .
A wasp trapped in a glass jar hums somewhere deep inside my skull. My lashes flutter. They feel insanely heavy. Sleep takes me back under.
Bzzzz. Again.
It’s my fucking phone and whoever’s calling is very persistent.
I grope around until my hand finds it, half buried under the pillow. I clutch my head. My eyes feel like sandpaper, pain flashing the moment I try to open them. Yesterday had been a lot. My brain’s still wrecked. To be fair, there’s another sore reminder too.
What time is it even? Who the hell—?
Shit. Joan. I’d better answer.
“Mmmrrh…Joan.”
“Babe, where the fuck are you!?”
“Joanie, I get that you’re pissed, but please, can we do this later? My head’s about to explode…”
“Twat! Get your skinny ass over here, your boyfriend’s having a shootout with Dad!”
At that exact moment I hear a gunshot crack through the air, echoing over the lake and through the phone at once.
My eyes snap open, finding the spot beside me empty and cold.
No. No. No. This is a fucking nightmare! I jump into a pair of trousers I find next to bed and grab a sweater out of my suitcase. I don’t think I’ve ever dressed this fast. Jacket, where is it? I find my snow boots at the door.
I glance over my shoulder, and through the living room’s glass wall, I spot the family gathered on the other side of the lake.
Bang. Another shot right after.
Ah, the annual McKenna clay target game. My big brother’s going to regret this, and I can already see the disaster coming.
I reach the shooting range in under five minutes. Before I can even tell who hit the target, Joan comes flying at me, her arms wrapping around my neck.
I stumble back, and Calvin’s there just in time to catch us before we go down.
Joan throws her fist in the air. “Get him, Yosh! Beat his arse!”
I smile. Guess this means we’re good again. When the hell did her mood swing back like that? Yesterday she ran off crying, and now she’s cheerleading. No point questioning it. I’ll take the win.
I slide an arm around her shoulders, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.
“How’s he doing?”
“They’ve had a practice round. Dad got two, Yosh none.”
“Probably for the best,” I mumble. If Jay wins his little game, he might stay civil.
It hurts. For all the ways he drives me insane, he’s still one of the most important people in my life. But Jay made it clear he’s not going to accept Yosh. Or us. And the fact that this isn’t a friendly game says everything.
“Losers of the practice round go first,” Jay says.
Yosh gives him a weak smile, stepping forward. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, loads a shell, locking the rifle.
As he leans forward to aim, I see Sergei tap Jay. They exchange a confused look as Yosh’s movements look a hell of a lot more professional now.
The little wanker. He let Jay win the practice round on purpose.
Yosh flicks off the safety. The disc launches from the trap. He tracks it, swings, and fires. A clean hit, dead center. The disc explodes.
Clap, clap, clap. Jay starts a slow, fake applause.
“Beginner’s luck!” Yosh laughs, shrugging as he high-fives Eli.
Our eyes meet. A small, devilish smile plays at his mouth, telling me he’s about to wipe the floor with my brother and enjoy every second of it.
That makes my two legs go weak and my third one hard.
And even though I’m more a fan of a good old fist fight, I can’t deny Yosh holding that shotgun like a gangster looks insanely hot.
I look around.
The crowd is divided into three camps now; Joan, Calvin, and I fall in with Yosh.
Joan’s proving to be my ride-or-die again. Calvin’s probably scared Tiffy will hear about this if he takes the other side.
Alex, Eli, Finn and Luca are Switzerland; the rest of the family is standing behind Jay.
Then Effy steps onto the range, and without a second of hesitation, she walks over to Jay’s side. I tell myself it’s just a game, but picking sides feels uncomfortably close to the truth of how things really are, and my daughter is not picking me. She’s not even Switzerlanding.
Maybe I shouldn’t take this personally. Maybe she’s afraid of Jay, or she doesn’t want to upset him. I could understand that; I have to talk to her to know if she's safe at Heatherfell. If not, I need to get her and the baby out.
For now it’s best to act casual, so I raise my hand to greet her. She smiles and waves back, but my attention is abruptly drawn by Jay's shot. He misses. YES!
Jay’s hand lashes out. “The wind just shifted. Throws off the bird’s flight.”
Yosh laughs. “At this short distance? The wind’s not your problem, Jay. You just missed your swing.”
Everyone is quiet. Joan beside me is squealing “SHOTS FIRED, DAD!” she shouts through cupped hands.
Let’s be honest, as his daughter, she’s the only one who can get away with it, and she always abuses that privilege.
Jay forces a small, slanted smile. No one seems to notice the anger behind it except for Effy, who, from the other side of the line, looks at me with eyes full of warning.
I can feel her telling me I need to put a stop to this before things end badly.
I know that, but what on earth am I supposed to do?
Yosh hits target after target, my nerves shooting roots in the ground.
I watch Jay whisper something to Sergei. He shoots me a cold stare as he listens, then heads for the North House. A chill crawls down my spine.
After twenty-five targets each, Yosh wins without a single miss.
He lowers his shotgun, safeties it, and walks over to Jay, hand extended. I hold my breath. My brother hates losing, and he hates being outshone even more. I also know he won’t make a scene in front of the family.
With obvious reluctance, Jay takes Yosh’s hand and gives it a quick shake.
“Congratulations on the victory.”
That’s about the fakest praise I’ve ever heard. That must’ve hurt to leave his throat. Still, I can’t help the grin tugging at my mouth which I know I’ll pay for later.
“Alright, everyone! Brunch at the North House in half an hour. Don’t be late!”
The raising of Jay’s voice instantly reminds everyone who’s in charge. The authority act might fool the rest, but I see the twitch in his jaw. Losing to Yosh is eating him alive and I think my boyfriend just signed his own death sentence in front of everyone.
I need to talk to Jay, because this needs to end. Right now.
I reach out to grab Jay’s shoulder, but suddenly Yosh steps into my path, hands clamping around my biceps.
“Sapphire! Sorry I disappeared like that. I went for my morning walk and wanted to be back before you woke up. Running into Jay and him shoving a gun into my hands wasn’t exactly part of the plan.
And then that whole thing about the wind…
why did I even say that? I basically told him he sucks.
Not very diplomatic, I know…which is probably why your brother is currently planning to murder me in the forest”
Unhinged Yosh is back, the adrenaline hitting him hard.
“Hey, no need to apologize. I know you need to clear that beautiful brain of yours in the morning. And no one’s going to murder anyone, okay?”
He laughs, pulling me into his arms. Over his shoulder, I watch Jay heading back toward the North House with the others.
Damn it. I’ll talk to him after brunch.
A little later, we step back into my cottage on the west side.
I trail behind Yosh to the bedroom and sit cross-legged on the bed.
My eyes stay fixed on him as he changes. The snake on his back moves as he pulls a white cotton shirt over his head. He layers it with a cobalt-blue turtleneck—It hugs him so right.
I’ve always had a thing for the overdressed. The more layers, the harder I get. I picture what’s underneath, the many ways in which I could all take it off . Rough fabric under my palms, the reward of bare skin shivering when my fingers slip beneath the hem.
Sweet fuck.
That turtleneck is dangerous for my brain. I need a distraction. Fast. Before my feral need turns into rabies.
I lick my lips. “Still can’t believe you beat Jay at his own game.”
His warm brown eyes meet mine in the mirror.
“I thought about missing a few shots to keep the peace, but he was asking for it. I know he’s your brother, but seriously, how can one person be such a pain in the ass?”
He adjusts the jumper over his gray trousers, taking his time as he checks himself from every angle.
Fingers rake through his hair, brushing a few strands over his shoulder. I get lost in my adoration for him.
“Doesn’t matter. I think he got the message.”
I look up. “Sorry, what did you say, love?”
My thoughts are a mess. I close my eyes, trying to shake them loose. When I open them again, he’s on his knees in front of me. A grin tugs at my mouth, a little filthy, a little wicked. Isn’t this exactly where I like him?
My smile fades as I catch the serious look in his eyes. He takes my hands, kissing them.
“How are you holding up after yesterday?”
And just like that, the lump in my throat is back.
I really didn’t want to go back there. My head feels wrapped in fog, every thought dissolving before I can turn it into words. Honestly, I’ve got nothing left to say.
I offer him a faint nod and something that’s supposed to pass as a genuine smile.
“I’m fine.”
He sighs, joining me on the bed.
“Yesterday you faced your biggest pain. It’s okay not to be okay. We don’t have to talk unless you want to, but I want you to know I’m proud of you, Sapphire. Like, really proud.”
I rub my eyes; they’re still sore and swollen from yesterday.
“I just hope…” I swallow hard. His hand circles gently over my back. The warmth of his soothing touch makes me want to hold back my words.
“Tell me,” he whispers softly.
“I don’t want to turn into a fucking burden for you. I know I come with a crazy family and enough baggage to fill a cargo hold.”
He gives me a soft look, like he’s hurting for me, leaving me feeling uneasy and vulnerable. Most people latch onto the joke. That’s the point of it. But not him. He always sees straight through the smokescreen.
“You’re not too much for me, Tom. It’s them. It’s always been them. They twist things until you think you’re the problem, but you’re not. You’re my lionheart, Sapphire. Don’t let this place tame your bright soul.”
It’s them.
The verdicts Jay and Cheryl stamped on me fire through my head like they have for the last twenty years.
Ungrateful. Unstable. Too much. Maybe I am all of it, or maybe I never was.
I want to believe Yosh, let him be my way out of this prison. But some fucked-up part of me still thinks I owe the pack. That walking away is treason and I won’t make it on my own. But god, I’m going under if I keep bleeding for their control.
Yosh calls me his lionheart, so maybe I can walk away from it.
I raise my lashes, and it only takes one look at him to realize I have to. I need to get this sorted out so I can be the man he can lean on when the dark days come. Because just like rain and thunderstorms, they will come.
“Should I walk away from the pack?”
“The fact that you’re even asking says enough. You’ve seen today who’s really on your side. Stay close to the ones who support you, and work on things with Effy. Leave the rest behind.”
I flex my jaw. “You're absolutely right, but it feels like my feet are frozen in place. Just thinking about leaving has me terrified.”
He studies me for a moment, as if he’s trying to make a choice. Then he reaches for his necklace, widening the cord to slip it off. There’s a faint tremor in his fingers, but he follows through.
What the hell is going on? Why is he doing this? That stone’s glued to his chest.
His fingers go over the gemstone that looks like a triangular shark’s tooth. Its shades of gray and black remind me of the depths of stormy eyes.
“You want to know why I wear it?”
“It’s not because it looks pretty, is it?”
He huffs a soft laugh, but that doesn’t mask a sadness pearling deep in his eyes.
“It’s an onyx, It’s for protection, courage, and strength. It kept me alive when I didn’t want to be.”
He kisses my hair as he tightens the necklace at the back of my neck. The stone touches my skin, still warm from his.
“I’m giving it to you because you’ll need what it can give. When you no longer do, return it to me. You’ll know when that day comes.”
With his hand on my chest, resting over the onyx and absorbing every beat of my heart, I can already feel a determined heat building beneath my sternum.
Moisture gathers along his lower lashes, and he blinks it away. The need to choose us rises in me.
He just gave me the most important thing in his life. Like, touch it and die important. I wasn’t even allowed to look at it when we first met, and now this onyx is around my neck.
I part my lips because I want to tell him how much this means to me, but anything that comes to mind feels too small, too weak. So instead, I press my hand over his and let the warmth of my skin say what words never could.