Page 101 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“When you gonna finally make a move on Lou, Bas?” I asked, my gut twisting when the jab hit its mark, and Bas’s face fell.

“Low blow.”

“Sorry, can you just—”

“I’m gone,” Bas replied, walking away.

“Such a sweet talker,” Brody called.

I flipped him off and went back to work.

The funny thing? Iwasin a good mood—or at least as good of a mood as I was able at the moment. Waking up next to Myla had been the highlight of my goddamn life.

But the moment I’d left her room, the weight of everything else had come crashing down around me. Aoife had called in a panic just as I’d climbed off my bike outside the garage, asking me if I knew if the US Marshals would call her if the Smith organization got to Richie. How was she supposed to live not knowing if he was alive or not? I didn’t have any answers for her—I had no fucking clue how it all worked.

We didn’t snitch, and if we did, we dealt with the consequences. Witness protection? What a fucking joke.

I’d calmed her down and got off the phone just in time for Ronan to call me saying he was going to drop out of his program and move. His shit wouldn’t transfer, and they weren’t willing to work with him, and he couldn’t stand being away from everyone. I wanted to tell him to stick it out, that things would get easier, but I kept my mouth shut. I’d felt homesick when Ileft, and ithadgotten easier—but I’d left behind a fully intact and thriving family. Ronan was separated from our sisters who were a complete fucking mess at the moment, and we’d just lost Richie. I could understand the instinct to be as close to them as possible. If they hadn’t moved out to the property, I would’ve still been sleeping on Aoife’s couch.

The girls were settling in. They were finding routines. Saoirse was back at work, and Aoife was searching for a job. Aisling still had quite a bit of healing to do before she could go back, but I knew she’d sent out feelers to a few tattoo shops in town, checking for openings. Aunt Ashley was the only one who seemed to be stuck in place, but she could take off in her motorhome whenever she wanted. She was choosing to stay close by for the time being.

Shit was moving forward already, slowly, sure, but it was happening.

It still felt like there was a noose around my neck.

“I’m grabbin’ a burrito from the truck,” Leo called out a while later, distracting me from the thoughts that spun around and around with no end in sight. “Who wants one?”

Random orders were called out as I straightened and checked the clock. Most of the time I worked through lunch so I could get off earlier, but my stomach was growling. I glanced at Leo, debating whether or not I wanted to send an order with him or just run somewhere myself as I strode over to the industrial sink at the back.

I wasn’t sure if getting a questionable burrito from a truck was the best idea a few hours before I took Myla out to dinner.

“Baby sister,” Mick called out. “You know you can’t come in here.”

“I wasn’t,” Myla shot back. “I’m outside, aren’t I?”

Turning around, I found Myla standing at the very edge of my bay, the toes of her shoes touching the black mark where the door hit when it was closed.

“I brought lunch,” she sang, lifting a paper bag and shaking it from side to side.

“What’d you get for me?” Rumi yelled, jogging toward her. “I know you didn’t bring lunch and forget your favorite brother.”

“Titus is my favorite,” Myla said, clutching the bag to her chest. “I didn’t bring you shit.”

“He’s gonna cry,” Brody said with a chuckle.

“Come on, what did you get?” Rumi wheedled, reaching for the bag.

I walked a little faster when a familiar look came over Myla’s face, and I knew she was two seconds from detonation.

“Leave her alone, Rum,” Mick called. “Can’t you see she brought lunch for herboyfriend?”

“Did you telleveryone?” Myla asked, her eyes coming to me.

Rumi laughed.

“I haven’t said shit,” I replied as I reached her.

“Sure you didn’t.”

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