Chapter 1 #3
As they walked toward the front steps, they scanned the ranch house with the kind of systematic attention that spoke of training and purpose. That made me scrap the idea that they were from the bank.
This was much worse.
I contemplated staying inside, pretending nobody was home. But we never locked our doors. If these guys wanted in, they'd get in. I couldn't even call Mitch or Kayden for backup.
I walked down the hallway to the front door, bracing myself for a confrontation I didn't want to have.
I stepped through the open doorway. “You blokes lost?”
The men halted on the bottom step, and the taller of the two smiled in a way that was both surprisingly pleasant and bloody creepy. “Are you Mr. Branson?” His voice was smooth and cultured with an Italian accent. He spread his hands in a gesture of openness that somehow felt like a threat.
“Who are you?” I said, dodging the question. Anyone who drove this far knew there was a Branson somewhere on this land.
“We apologize for arriving unannounced.” The words rolled off his tongue like honey. “But we’re here to see our sister, Bella.”
My heart stumbled.
Bella's family?
The other man had a scar that ran through his left eyebrow, missing his eye by a bee's dick. He was lucky he wasn't blind. “We’ve come a very long way to see her.”
Their reason for being here should have brought relief. Bella never talked about her family or her hometown. She’d just shown up one day, asking for work, all nervous energy and sweet smiles, and started baking like her life depended on it.
But I'd experienced enough of Frank's mind games and Kayden's cover-ups when one of his disasters came undone to know when someone was bullshitting me. And I had a feeling these two blokes were lying.
But maybe this would make Bella smile for real. Maybe it would chase that permanent sadness from her eyes, which made me constantly want to ask if she was okay.
I swallowed the unease, trying to find logic in the suspicion twisting my gut. Maybe it was just the way they were dressed. Or the inappropriate car they’d chosen to drive all the way out here.
Maybe I was so used to strangers only bringing bad news that I'd forgotten not everyone came with an agenda.
I offered my hand. “I'm Declan Branson.”
The tall one took my hand first. His grip was firm, controlled. “A pleasure.” He didn't offer his name.
The scarred one shook next. His hand was calloused, but his grip was weirdly soft. Like his hands were made for violence, and he was deliberately restraining it. Again, he didn't give his name.
“Is Bella here?” the scarred one asked.
“Yeah, can we see her?” the tall one added, taking another step forward.
That single step made my hackles rise. Too eager. Too aggressive.
“Yeah, she's here,” I said. But I didn't elaborate.
I should've asked more questions. Should've demanded to see identification or called someone. But these were her brothers. Family. Maybe they were who she'd been missing. The reason for that lost look in her eyes.
So, I gestured toward the house, setting something into motion that felt like an unmanned bulldozer rolling downhill.
They walked behind me, close enough that I could smell their potent cologne that seemed so out of place. Their proximity crawled up my spine like a warning.
Maybe I was just paranoid. They were Italian. Maybe they treated personal space differently over there. Maybe I was reading menace into nothing more than cultural differences.
I led them to the dining room instead of the kitchen. “Take a seat,” I said, forcing what I hoped passed for a smile. “I'll tell her you're here.”
“We're fine,” the tall one said.
“We just want to see our sister.”
“So you said.” I kept my tone level, drawing on the many times Dad had put me in my place with just one glance. “Stay here. I'll get her.”
The tall one raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “Yes, yes, of course. Sorry, we're just excited to see her. It's been a while.”
“Does she know you're coming? She didn't mention?—”
“No, no.” The tall one let out a chuckle that didn't reach his eyes. “We like to surprise our little sis. It's tradition in our family, yes?”
The scarred one nodded, but his attention was on scanning the room. Like he was cataloging doors and exits.
Like a man who expected trouble.
Or was planning to cause it.
My jaw tightened. This felt wrong. They felt wrong. But I couldn’t tell them to piss off just because they were making me uncomfortable. They were her family. She'd been so alone here, so haunted. Maybe this was exactly what she needed.
“You okay?” the tall one asked, his smile pleasant but his eyes watchful.
“Yeah. Fine.” I forced myself to nod. “Just surprised, that's all. Bella never mentioned she had brothers coming.”
“Like we said. Surprise.”
The word hung in the air like a threat.
I turned, and my boots sounded heavy on the floorboards as I headed toward the kitchen. Bella hummed a tune that drifted down the hallway, some melody that sounded both sweet and sad.
I'd screwed up plenty of things in my life.
I hoped to hell this wasn't about to be on the top of the list.