Chapter 46
Collins
“MEET THE MCTAVISH brOTHERS.”
Iwatch in awe as the iron gates swing open slowly.
Asher’s fingers drum lazily on the steering wheel while we wait, the picture of calm, cool, and collected.
Ayla’s too busy scribbling in a notebook and checking her phone to care.
Bear apparently had something too urgent going on to join us, but too private to share.
I, however, am a nervous wreck.
Riley squeezes my leg reassuringly, despite his own skin being a bit on the clammy side. He’s been sitting quietly next to me, occasionally squeezing at the back of his neck to stave off his nerves. I think a part of that is my fault, though.
This morning, I had a dissociative episode that resulted in dropping and shattering my favorite mug. We’re late because my coffee had soiled my and Blair’s clothes, and it took a while to change because Creed insisted on checking me for cuts or burn marks.
It’s been a while since I’d slipped into the recesses of my own mind, into an episode like that. I hate that I can’t stop them myself when I feel them coming on, but I feel thankful that I simply felt afloat in the ether, rather than being sucked into an alternate reality.
It didn’t last long either because Creed and Riley were right there to coax and bring me back in that sweet, gentle way that only they could by using our affirmation that seems to work every time.
See me.
Feel me.
We. Are. Real.
Creed’s head is all but hanging out the window as Asher pulls through, his fingers interlocked with Blair’s on the center console.
A week has passed since they went house hunting and came home with the exciting news that they found the perfect place.
They refused to tell us exactly where it was, that it was a surprise.
I wanted to pout about it, but seeing the genuine joy radiating off of my brother was enough for me to let it go… for now.
We had other things to focus on, anyway, like setting up this meeting with the McTavish brothers. It’s important to us that we get our story out there and told our way, and that we let the dust settle before the Dark Sins tour begins next year.
“Holy shit,” Riley whispers to himself as the massive home comes into view. Creed lives in a large but practical house. This is one step below being a fucking palace. Complete with a fancy fountain in the center of a circular drive.
“It may not seem like it on the outside, but the McTavish family is humble. The brothers inherited this house from their father when he died.”
“How nice of him,” Creed mutters under his breath with a hint of sarcasm as Asher brings the vehicle to a halt and kills the engine.
“Nice is not the word I’d use to describe that man,” Blair says, unbuckling himself.
“How did he die?”
It’s extremely quiet for several seconds before Ash and Blair share a look from the corners of their eyes and pop their doors open.
Before hopping out, Asher mutters, “Callan killed him for kidnapping his wife.” It’s all he says before opening the back door to let the three of us out.
He offers me his hand. I take it and hop down before he reaches to help Ayla.
Oh.
OH.
I share a look with Ayla from the corner of my eye, but she just shrugs like it’s no big deal.
There’s so much of this world that I will never care to be privy to, but it seems that she’s got no qualms with the violent side of things.
It makes me wonder just how much she knows, but I tuck that thought away to ask her about later.
We don’t even make it to the fancy, ornate steps before the massive door to the equally enormous home swings open, and a woman comes barreling toward us with a massive smile on her face, her arms outstretched to Asher.
She’s tall, blonde, tan, and could easily be mistaken for a prettier version of Malibu Barbie. Asher easily catches her as she throws herself into him, and he engulfs her in a huge hug.
My eyes immediately snap to Blair, who just smiles and joins in on the hug like he belongs there. They speak animatedly when she pulls away, her bubbly personality shining brighter than the California sun.
“For fuck’s sake, M’eudail, let the poor bastard breathe,” a deep voice calls from the doorway, the smooth lilt of his accent garnering my full attention.
Instinctively, I take a step back until I’m securely wedged between Creed and Riley. My shoulders relax when I feel both of their arms wrap around me. The woman blushes, but her smile doesn’t diminish as she retreats to join the man currently waiting for her just beyond the threshold of his home.
He’s blonde, too, though the strands neatly tucked behind his ears are a few shades darker.
Asher smiles at him and finishes his trek to the door, his hand outstretched to the imposing figure.
“Lachlan,” Asher greets as the man takes his hand in a firm shake.
“Sutton,” he reciprocates before greeting Blair with a huge smile and a one-armed hug.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Asher says so formally, but the man, Lachlan, waves him off.
“You don’t need to thank us; it’s better to meet in person,” he says, jerking his chin to gesture to the home at his back. “Besides, everyone’s been wanting to meet your family. Win-win.” He smiles, and some of the tension eases in my brother’s shoulders.
Then, his attention shifts and homes in on Creed, Riley, and me.
Suddenly, I feel no more than three feet tall under his assessing gaze.
I try my damndest not to squirm, but it’s hard not to when the man looks like he could kill somebody with a snap of his fingers and not lose a wink of sleep over it.
Then, I remember that this is the man who literally organized an entire army of men to rescue Riley and me, and that Asher trusts him implicitly.
If this is Lachlan McTavish, then the blonde must be his wife, whom Asher was charged with protecting for years.
It’s no wonder she greeted him so fondly.
Creed nudges the three of us forward, and we follow by his side until we’re standing next to Asher, just feet from Lachlan.
His eyes meet mine and soften a fraction. Before he can say anything, his wife is the first to greet me.
“You’re Collins,” she says matter-of-factly. Her green eyes look me over, briefly lingering on the scars that cover my arm before offering me her hand. Her smile is genuine, and her eyes are bright. “I’m so happy to finally meet you in person. I’m Cori.”
I take her hand in mine, and that’s when I notice the scars of her own. Much like me, her arm is littered with various cuts and scars, though judging by the puckering of her skin, they look more like burns.
I stare at her awkwardly for a moment before I remember my freaking manners.
“Ohmygod hi! It’s…nice to meet you, too, Cori.
” I drop her hand and extend mine to Lachlan, who takes it, a barely there smile hinting at the straight set of his lips.
“I feel I owe you a life debt or something for saving us,” I choke out, but Lachlan shakes his head, dropping my hand and ushers us into his home.
“You owe us nothing,” he says, leading us into this kitchen that feels too grand for me to be standing in with my overalls and scuffed-up, thrifted Doc Martens.
An older lady appears from the butler pantry in the corner and promptly serves everyone a glass of water around an island that’s bigger than the motel I lived in.
“You’re family, saving you was never an option as it was the only one to make. ”
Riley squeezes me a little tighter, wrapping both arms around me, and Creed presses into our sides as he senses Ri’s growing discomfort. That’s when I notice we’re not alone.
Seated and standing around the island are four other people.
I recognize two of them from the day we met Asher at a diner not far from here.
My brother gestures to them first. “This is Camdan McTavish and his fiancé—Cori’s little sister—Millie,” he introduces, and Camdan shifts his scowl to Creed, who chuckles nervously, but he keeps his chin lifted.
The man, with his massive height and hulking frame, shaved head and tattoos, looks no less terrifying than the day I’d first noticed him.
The woman seated in front of him could very well pass as my sister—from her matching overalls, to her curly pastel pink hair, freckles, and wildly bright and colorful eyes.
She offers a sweet smile while twirling the dainty rings on each of her fingers.
“Okay, now it makes sense why I love Collins so much,” Blair blurts out with a bark of laughter.
He gestures between us. “Millie-moo and Baby Doll, you could be twins—” Asher slaps a hand over his mouth and tugs him back until he’s flush with his chest, quietly muttering, “Not now,” before continuing with introductions.
“The Don, Callan McTavish, and his wife, Genevieve.” A curt nod is all we get from the imposing man across the room, dressed smartly in an expensive button-down and slacks, his sleeves rolled to show the ink on his forearms. His face is a stony mask of indifference.
His wife, however, looks like she’s about to burst into tears at the sight of the three of us.
“Long time, no see,” Creed greets playfully as she frantically fans her misty eyes.
“Oh, fuck, get it together,” she mutters to herself, making the other two females in the room chuckle.
“Shit,” she laughs. “It’s good to see you boys again.
Both of you.” She turns her eyes to me, too many emotions battling for dominance in her expression.
“Collins,” she whispers, “It’s…it’s so fucking nice to get to meet you in person,”
It’s clear she’s met the boys before, and I’m curious about the story there.
I can’t help but smile back, despite feeling a little out of place.
These girls are all staring at me like they know me, and I don’t have a clue as to who they are outside of being married to these crime lords… or whatever you call them.