Page 8 of The Heir

I blinked, unsure how to respond to that. Most folks didn’t freely air such opinions of my brother or father, even if they were likely true.

He grasped the tweezers and gently slid the glass from my arm while I hissed at the sting and looked away.

“Hold that on there,” he murmured, pressing the rag firmly to my arm.

Once I took over the washcloth, he stood back up and began to rummage through the medicine cabinet on the wall. I hadn’t realized how tall he was, until he was stretched and reaching for the box of Band-Aids on the top shelf. He was Mayhem’s size, well over six feet. He didn’t smell like weed or alcohol, which was bizarre for the men I was usually surrounded by. His cologne smelled expensive and inviting, I couldn’t help but lean toward him. I didn’t even realize I was thinking such things, until the door popped open, and I sucked in a guilty breath.

“There you are,” Daisy sighed, before her gaze landed on me. “Oh…”

“It’s nothing.” I lifted the rag to show her the clean wound, but blood instantly started to trickle.

“Oh, my God.” Daisy hurried toward me and pressed the rag back down. “What the hell happened?”

“Mackie.” I quietly explained while Blaze wrestled the Band-Aid open. I took it from him and slapped it on as quickly as I could.

Blaze looked like he was about to say something, but I was flushing from the inside out and was struggling to hold his gaze. I felt like a traitor speaking about my brother with Daisy squinting at me like that. It was the same expression that overcame her whenever my father entered a room.

“Thanks. I should get to work.”

“Work…” Blaze repeated. “I just took glass out of your arm. You can’t go to work.”

“I’ve had worse,” I lamely excused myself, before hurrying toward the bedroom door.

Chapter Four

Blaze

“W–” The wordwaitdied on my lips when she shot out the door. I glanced down and realized Aunt Daisy’s fingertips were pressed against my chest in a silent plea for me to let the girl go.

It was the last thing I wanted to do. Her blue eyes had called to me from the moment I stepped out of the van. It wasn’t my imagination, there was something about her. Something special. I stood there staring at the door, recalling the way she’d disappeared into the house. I’d much rather think of that than the image of her cowering when I followed her inside.

“What the fuck…?” I whispered.

“Let that one go, Blaze.” Aunt Daisy’s voice was so small, yet the plea was unmistakable.

I glanced back at her, and those familiar dark eyes were round and full of concern.

“What did she mean by that…?” I wanted to know more, and yet, I didn’t want her whisking me back to Oak and my mother if I showed too much interest.

“Exactly what she said.” Daisy’s brows flinched, but her gaze held. “That's all she’s ever known.”

“What is?” The minute the words left my lips, I knew the answer.

Daisy cleared her throat, “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I don’t even know who the fuck let Michael Miller into my house,to be honest. Carl knows I don’t tolerate his presence, much less his bullshit.”

“That's his name? The guy who had her all…” I tried to haul myself into a one-legged bundle, imitating the girl as best I could.

“No.” She turned the water on and ran her index over the pad of her thumb in the stream with no real purpose. “Michael Miller is her father. The one who likely caused the upset was Mackie. He’s good at that. That boy has been trouble his whole life. In and out of jail. Kid he doesn’t see. Women he left in messes. That's what he is… messy,” she decided with a slow, but firm nod.

“Yeah, well… he pulls that shit again, he’s gonna learn how to clean up real fast, cause I’m gonna mop the floor with him.” The words were drawn from somewhere, I didn’t even realize what I was saying until her hand tightened on my arm.

“Let’s go check on your sister,” she said, after staring at me for a long time. I could tell there were a thousand things she wanted to say, but none of them came to fruition.

I gave a slow nod, washed my hands, and followed her out. The floor was cleaned up, and a woman with long, dark hair was wiping down the kitchen counter when we made it back to the entry area.

“Izzy?” I guessed, summoning her name from places long forgotten in my mind.

She turned around and broke out into a big smile, “There you are, Blaze baby.”

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