Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
ROMAN
Maggie returns to the wedding preparations reluctantly, likely avoiding the awkwardness that’s settled between us after her confrontation with Evan.
I end up downstairs with Fraser. I don’t have anywhere else to be. A spare part, as usual.
Fraser is leaning against the window with a glass of some liquor that probably costs more than my bike, staring out at the grounds.
Tattoos etch across his arms, making his white shirt look like a colouring book.
He stands out amongst the polished wealth almost as much as I, though in an entirely different way.
‘You look rough,’ he says.
‘Good morning to you too,’ I reply.
‘You fall asleep in a hedge or something?’
‘Chance would be a fine thing.’
We drink in silence for a bit. Rather than it being awkward, it’s like neither of us is in any rush to fill the quiet with idle chatter.
I don’t hate it. Being a single child, I’ve often wondered what it might be like to have siblings.
To have at least one other person who’s known you forever.
Someone else who could have shared my grief. But maybe they would have left me, too.
Fraser shifts his weight.
‘So you’re really into Maggie, right?’
I can’t help but wonder if Eddie’s filled him in on my online persona. ‘Yeah.’
He narrows his eyes. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘I’m not sure you’re supposed to. She’s your sister.’
‘The two of you don’t make sense. I work out, I can tell you do.
I don’t think that Maggie has run for anything other than the bus since she was born.
She loves to knit weird jumpers with dogs on them, and actually wears them.
You are too clean-cut. I expected her to come home with a fellow nerd.
You look like someone Eliza would date. For a night, at least. I don’t get why you’re here. ’
There’s no hint of mean in his voice. He sounds genuinely confused, like the idea of Maggie and me together is an insurmountable mystery.
Which is fucking rude.
‘A relationship doesn’t need to make sense to work. We have stuff in common.’ Don’t we?
‘You could have done better,’ he adds.
‘She’s your sister.’ Maybe I’d overestimated the importance of siblings.
‘I know, and I love her. And I want her to be happy.’ He frowns. ‘Not with Eddie, fuck no. But there’s something off with the two of you.’
‘What?’ The perceptive little fuck.
He shrugs and takes a lengthy sip of his drink.
‘I don’t know. Not something I can put my finger on. Yet. Is she paying you?’
‘No, Maggie’s not paying me to date her.’
He taps his inked fingers on the side of his glass. ‘Shame, you being an escort would explain a lot. Maggie’s just never gone for your type, all athletic and stuff. She’s just weird in her own way, you know.’
‘Yeah, she is.’ There is no denying that Maggie takes her own path. It’s one of the things I’ve grown to like about her in the past few days.
Fraser nods like I’m finally understanding him. ‘Exactly.’
‘That’s not a criticism,’ I add.
‘So what, you like ‘em weird?’
‘Apparently.’
He takes a sip, watching me over the rim of his glass. ‘So you’re going to take on all of this for her.’ Well, no. It’s not my plan, obviously. But I can’t tell him that.
‘She’s funny. And pretty. And I can’t stay away from her. It’s like she’s this magnetic force that sucks me in.’
‘She’s a bit of a loner,’ he counters.
‘I don’t mind.’
‘She overthinks everything.’
‘Don’t we all?’
‘She panics and makes rash decisions. You probably haven’t seen that side of her yet.’
Wanna bet?
I shrug. ‘Why do you care? You don’t want her to marry Eddie, right? That’s your dad’s plan for her.’
That gives him pause.
‘So why not me?’
Fraser grimaces. ‘She cries at cartoons.’
‘Oh no, she’s emotionally available.’
He makes a gagging noise. ‘She’s a nerd.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd.’
He looks at me like I’ve just admitted to tax fraud.
‘You’re going to break her heart.’ Fraser sighs. Revealing his true reason for grilling me. He’s worried I’ll hurt his sister.
‘I can’t say this will last forever.’ I don’t want to lie to the kid. ‘But I’ll look after her while she’ll let me.’
He pushes himself upright off the wall and shoots me a sceptical look. ‘I’m going to find Dad. I’ll avoid giving you the if you hurt my sister lecture, but if you do, I’ll turn your nuts into squirrel feeders. She’s odd, but she’s ours.’
The threat would make me laugh if I didn’t know exactly what his career prospects are. ‘Enjoy...’
Then he’s gone.
Running a hand through my hair, I close my eyes and focus on just breathing.
In and out. I want to hate Maggie for dragging me into this nest, but I couldn’t.
Every time I try to hate her, I see the way her nose crinkles as she laughs, or the way she looks at me when I slide an arm around her.
The way she’ll throw herself on the fire just to protect her family, yet wants so badly to protect herself. She’s an enigma, for sure.
A damn hot one, too.
Maybe I should join the guys for one of those drinks. I need something after the morning I’ve had.
The main staircase curves upward to my left and down to the lower floor in front of me. All highly polished wood and ancient carpet runners. I get about three steps from the top when something slams into my back.
Hard.
I stagger forward, my foot slipping out from under me as I grab for the bannister. The world tilts as I miss, and then I’m tumbling in a rush of faded carpet and spinning walls. My limbs crack down the stairs, the repeated impact bringing sharp pain.
By the time I come to a stop at the bottom, I can barely breathe, the wind having been knocked from my lungs. I lay still, trying to orient myself, my head pounding.
I roll onto my side to check that I still can, and look up to the stairs where I fell.
Eddie.
Standing at the top of the stairs, looking like he’s the prize pig. There’s no rush to hide or wash off guilt.
If anything, he looks a little annoyed that my neck isn’t broken.
He lifts his hand and does a little finger-gun motion.
Bang.
I stare at him as adrenaline floods through me, intensifying the pain that wracks me. The absolute cunt. If there is one person in the world that I might be tempted to try to kill, it’s Eddie. Jumped up, entitled, psychopathic twat.
He gives me a mock salute and turns away, strolling out of view with a chirpy whistle.
A secondary whistle follows, and I spy Coffin perched on the upper-level staircase, watching me with that solitary eye.
Maybe he thinks I’m carrion.
Slowly, I cover my eyes as I focus on finding my breath, determined not to be a corvid hors d’oeuvres.
The wedding hasn’t even started, and I already want to limp back to bed.