Chapter Six
I open the door nervously.Why? I don’t know. Maybe because of all the people in the Club, Mackenzie is the one I fear can see right through my façade when I’m not strong enough to keep my walls up. I have this fear if it’s just the two of us together she’ll know her brother fucked my brains out for months in secret. It is completely irrational because in all this time she’s never once indicated she has any idea, but I can’t stop it taking root.
She has no qualms or uncertainty about standing on Dad’s doorstep. She grins at me and waves, so I tell her to come inside.
I forgot how the house is a turntable of visitors coming and going all day. I also forgot how much I miss that. In London, I have friends, of course. Well, Alistair has friends who are also my friends by proxy. They rarely turn up without an invitation, and to be honest I couldn’t imagine talking to any of them about my problems. If I need a gab I usually video-call Mackenzie or phone Dean.
“Hey!” I exclaim with just a little too much enthusiasm. If she notices, she doesn’t let on.
Instead, she signs, “Hey yourself.”
Mackenzie, as always, looks stunning. She’s wearing a red skirt that reaches her mid-thigh and a long-sleeved ribbed white sweater. Her calf-length boots are fabulous, which I tell her. She grins, waving her hand in the air. The jangling of the multiple bangles around her wrists reminds me of bells pealing as she signs, “These old things? I’ve had them forever.”
This I doubt. The leather isn’t even scuffed.
“Well, they’re gorgeous. I need them in my life!”
Mackenzie is just three years younger than I am and is the third eldest Harlow, sitting between Jem and Adam. She’s a mix of Logan with a dash of Jem and their mother, Mary, thrown in for good measure. Her hair is a soft brown and holds hints of red streaked throughout, while her pale, alabaster skin is a contrast to her brothers’ tans.
Growing up, she was one of my closest friends outside Dean because Kenzie understood what it’s like to be a girl in a male-dominated world. She shares something with me that Dean, no matter how close we are, will never understand because he has a penis.
She huffs out a silent laugh again, following me into the kitchen. When I’m facing her she lifts her hands. “I can’t even remember where I got them from.”
“When you do, let me know. I need a pair, or ten. Now, do you want a coffee?” I ask over my shoulder. Then I turn fully to her, kicking myself for forgetting I need to face her so she can communicate with me.
Over the years, I’ve often wondered what Mackenzie’s voice would sound like if she could speak. Would she have Sofia’s soft, almost baby lilt or Mary’s harder, deeper tone? Would she laugh like Jem or Adam?
My musing ends as she signs, “I’ll have a tea, if your dad has any in.”
Dad is a prolific coffee drinker, so I’m not sure about this. I head straight for the larder cupboard and open it, scanning the shelves for tea bags. Surprisingly, stuffed between two tins of soup and a packet of rice I find a box. I check it is in date and then open it to check the bags themselves. Satisfied they will not poison her, I emerge from the cupboard holding the box victoriously.
“Ah ha!”
She smiles at me, her hands flashing together. “Jack’s a surprising man, and a secret tea drinker, it seems.”
I frown at the box. “I didn’t think he liked tea.”
And I certainly don’t drink it.
This makes me wonder who he stocked it for. When my mind wanders places I really don’t want it to go I shut down those thoughts. Immediately.
“I thought you were Dean when you knocked on the door,” I tell her, moving to the kettle and pulling it free of the charging base. “He’s supposed to be taking me out on the bike today.”
She snorts, a heavy blast of air. “You’ll be lucky to see Dean before at least this afternoon. Last night was a late one and he was barely standing last time I saw him. Weed and Jem put him to bed.”
“What time did you leave?” I move to the sink, sticking the kettle under the tap to fill it.
“About three.” Her nose wrinkles as she signs again, “Maybe it was closer to four.”
My eyes flare. “Mackenzie Harlow! You are a party animal!”
I left early to avoid Logan, but even if I hadn’t I doubt I could have lasted that late into the night. I’ve become such a grown up.
She waves a nonchalant hand.
“That was an early night, and I only left because Jem and Ad dragged me out of there.”She slides onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar and huffs out a breath. “My brothers are the reason I’m here this morning.”
I freeze, hoping like hell she means Jem and Adam, not Logan. Then, casually, I ask, “Oh. Why?”