Page 211 of His Pretty Little Duet

He looks at Cassidy, meaning and affection in his grey eyes. “I did.” Then his gaze shifts over my shoulder to Clay, his smirk dropping and his brows weaving. “You here to give me a hard time?”

“I’m here to check on my brothers.” Clay strides over to Xander, cupping his bruised cheeks and checking him over for a moment before kissing both sides. It is a very European gesture. One I have only seen him do a few times. “Are you well?”

Xander nods with his big brother's palms bracketing his cheeks. “You did the right thing, Clay. You know?—”

Clay pulls him to his chest, a firm hold that silences more words between them. “That’s enough. There was no decision without pain.” He releases Xander and focuses his attention on Max. “I won’t take what you did lightly.” Warning wraps around each word. “One day soon, when you’re healed and strong, we will beat that night out of each other in the ring.”

I can’t think of anything worse than seeing the Butcher brothers fight. But Max stares straight at Clay, his eyes meeting the challenge, the warning, in an accepting way. He leans back further into the lounge but stifles a wince that forces Cassidy to inhale a shaky breath as though she was struck with pain at the exact same moment. “You should be in bed,Max?—”

“I’m not living in a damn bed for the next two months, little one.” He reaches out and strokes her cheek. “Don’t press this. That’s not me.”

“Let’s play the betrayed brother game another time,” Bronson states coolly but in a way that suggests he’s not going to allow a rebuttal. “Maxipad is being skinned at the moment. I know burns, and that’s gotta feel like he’s losing a layer. Also, I’m hungry. Those two points are not related…” He ponders. “I don’t think.”

Cassidy curls her nose up, her hazel freckles collecting along the bridge. “Gross, Bronson.”

“I know Butch has visited.” Clay keeps his eyes on Max but walks me over to a spare chair, nodding for me to sit down on it. I do as I’mnodded-to-do.

“Yes. Twice,” Cassidy says, pridefully.

Clay stands behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders, his fingers circling the nape of my neck slowly. “Has mother been to visit you?”

Quickly they flick their gazes around the room, bouncing a look of significance between them. It’s deeply personal. Painful too. I can see it hidden in their eyes. Clay notices it; his fingers on my neck have stilled, uncertainty in their frozen tips.

“Why would she visit?” Cassidy asks. Clay’s younger brothers somehow grow larger when she speaks. A visual display of cloaking themselves, averse to the topic.

“I know there are some issues here,” Clay begins smoothly, an aura of authority to his delivery. “She’s made mistakes, boys, but she is your mother.”

“Mistakes?” Cassidy whispers. The anxious way she said that chills my skin.

“Little one, don’t,” Max says deeply.

Clay’s fingers still haven’t moved, haven’t continued in a contented, relaxed way across my skin. Stiff like needles now.

His voice is deep and raspy behind me as he says, “I’m going to need you three to finally explain what the hell the woman who brought you into this world did that is so beyond redemption all three of you despise her. Her life was not easy either. She was taken from England, from her family, dropped in the District and made to raise you three while Butch fucked around. I know she’s cold. But after all she has been through?—"

“I don’t despise her! She despisesus.” Xander’s words howl around the three brothers like a ghost exorcised from a soul. Goosebumps rush along my arms, raising my little blonde hairs. “She tried to kill us.”

Clay’s fingers twitch. “What do you mean?”

Max’s eyes fall to Cassidy’s paling face. “Go inside, little one. I don’t want you here for?—”

“Don’t you dare, Max Butcher.” She shakes her head defiantly. “Don’t you dare. I’m not leaving your side.”

Xander continues, “She smacked us around.”

Oh, God, what is happening…

Smacked them around?

"—been through with that cunt Victoria."Shoshanna’s words leak back into my mind, and my cheeks fall cold.

“Shedisciplinedyou,” Clay corrects, and I hate his tone in this moment. Seeing Xander wince, Bronson turn to stone, and Max growl at Clay’s blatant dismissal, I hold my stomach protectively. Something bad has happened to them. Something that they have never shared with Clay. It’s clear in the way that sentence affects them deeply; their reactions all mimic and bar as though they can’t escape the influence.

“Fuck you, Clay. She tried to drown Bronson.” Xander’s face twists in anguish as he points to Max. “She left him in a bathtub until he was so cold his heart was barely beating. She left me in a closet for two weeks and told everyone I was staying at a friend’s house. That’s not even the half of it! She isn’t going to check on Max, Clay. She doesn’t care.”

My hands shake on my abdomen.Clay didn’t know…Then I remember Max’s outburst from a few days ago… “What about when we were just children? Dammit! We needed our big brother! What about then?"

It is as though Clay hears those words as I do, his breathing becoming rough and defensive.

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