Page 102 of Forbidden Bond

“You think protecting me starts with lying to me? Doing the right thing never starts with doing the wrong thing, brother. Wonder who told me that.”

“Who’s lying?”

“Right, because an omission isn’t a lie. Never thought you’d adopt that McDade stance.”

Any McDade stance.

“You sleep with him,” Lachlan said. “Why do that, why trust him, if you don’t believe in him?”

“I believe in him and the McDades, all of them, everything.”

“So why question my loyalties?”

“To the McDades? Because your loyalty has always been—”

“With you, dad, and both of you walked away from that. The McLeod name is nothing now.”

“Dad’s still Superintendent, no one knows he’s a murderer. There’s no reason your life has to change.”

“Except it’s a lie. Dad isn’t Superintendent, he is.” Lach jerked his chin toward the silent, assessing Conn. “You think I want a career based on that? Based on a lie? No promotion will ever be honest, no bust scrupulous. The guys on the streets, these families…” He shook his head. “Your world has changed, your views, you’re a McDade.” Which she wouldn’t deny. “And Dad, whether he likes it or not, he’s dancing to their song too. He has no one to blame for that, no one except himself.”

“You don’t have to follow him. Make your own choices.”

“I am,” he said, raising his chin. “Maybe I don’t want to march to the blue beat. Maybe I never did. I conformed, did what was expected. No need to do that anymore.”

This was her issue. It wasn’t her brother’s. Why was she pushing at him? Poking? Arguing? She didn’t want to tarnish him; like she’d tarnished others. If this was the path Lach really wanted, she’d support him. But how could she know for sure?

“No, you don’t.” Setting her sights on Conn, she chose to be as decisive. “Take Strat off payroll, Ford too. They’ll always have access, be welcome and protected, but they won’t be on our books.”

Conn half-nodded, sort of, he did one of his twitches, in acknowledgment.

Her brother may be taking a McDade wage or not. She’d dragged the Stratfords into this, she could set them free. Lachlan wasn’t so easy to free when he seemed determined to rush in headfirst.

Her fingertips met Conn’s jaw. “I like everything I’m wearing…”

“Then you know what to do with it.”

The clothes were irrelevant. The message was clear.

When was the last time they’d slept at Stag? She remembered the last time she’d been in that bed and, boy, that was a memory that needed replacing.

“Sersh,” her brother said. She paused at the curtain. “People make their own choices. Everyone makes their own choices.”

She smiled at no one and bowed her head. “Not in this house, Lachlan. What our leader says is law.” She exhaled. “Don’t be long, Mo Grá.”

THIRTY-THREE

“YOU’RE TROUBLED. Talk to me.”

Conn didn’t have to say out loud what she already knew. Oh, but her guy did know her, and never shied from giving her an opener.

Sated, strewn across their Stag bed, this was when she did most of her reflecting. Being with Conn, connected to him physically, in the quiet, in the dark, somehow it leveled her yawing mind.

“‘What’s in your head belongs to me.’” She repeated his words. “That’s what you said. All of me belongs to you.”

“Aye.

His certainty was always absolute, he was never unsure or undecisive. God, she could use a little of that, a lot of that.

---