Page 91 of Things Left Unsaid

“We can open the windows, air it. It’ll be fine.” Her gaze turns inquiring. “Does Mrs. Abelman hate me too?”

“No. No enemies within the house,” I assure her. “And Callan wasn’t lying. Cole rarely comes home.”

“Lies. He visited twice this past year,” she retorts.

“Ah, the gossip train.” I roll my eyes. “Pops told everyone he had a heart attack and dragged us home for a bedside vigil. As for the last time, he was introducing us to his girlfriend. Both are extraneous circumstances, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“So formal,” she mocks, but she does concede with a regal nod.

That word suits her—regal.

I point to an SUV. “Our ride.” To Callan, I ask, “Did you finish your chores?”

“Yes,Dad,” he mocks. “What do you think I am? An idiot?” He doesn’t let me answer, just starts the motor and revs the engine before taking off.

Once we’re in the SUV, she hesitates. “He’s…”

“Annoying?”

She graces me with a soft grin. “Sensible.”

“Yeah. You got that about right. Kid was born sensible. Doubt he’d ever jaywalk. Pops can’t understand why he’s not a pain in the ass like the rest of his spawn.”

“You might all be ornery, but you’re not him.”

Considering her accusation, I’ll take that for the compliment it is.

But the mere mention of him has me eager to get to the bottom of why he’d set fire to the stables, otherwise it’ll eat me alive.

Silence reigns until we make it to the homestead. I reckon she’s thinking about the shit she needs to do to establish herself here. As for me, I’m trying to figure out who to approach to reconcile Pops’s behavior that night.

What I do know—I’ll be making sure Seven Cs Inc. is disentangled from his companies ASAP.

If he’s capable ofthis, then God only knows what he might have done with the family’s billions.

Though I get out and open her door when we arrive at the big house, I wait for her to alight before I guide her to the porch.

That’s when I warn her: “I’m going to pick you up.”

“From where?” she asks, confused.

“Here.” I point to the door. “If you think I’m telling our kid that I didn’t do this, you’re mistaken.”

Before she can so much as blink, I swoop in and pick her up, holding her high against my chest.

Letting loose a shriek, her hands slipping around my neck to cling to my nape, she snaps, “That wasn’t much of a warning.”

Carrying her over the threshold, I drawl, “I’ll be sure to give you two weeks’ notice in the future.”

Zee

Colt might not see it, but he’s very much like his brother. Even if Callan is so brutally honest, it’s painful. A trait the older sibling doesn’t share.

Colt’s quiet and watchful. Humorous when he’s relaxed but stoic. Ever the responsible adult. Callan’s still a kid, but I learn he’s unafraid to speak his mind when he feels safe.

I guess I should be honored considering I’ve known him ninety minutes and since I came into the kitchen, he hasn’t shut up once.

Tee has a similar MO so the white noise is comforting. This certainly isn’t my home, but Callan’s chatter makes me feel less alone on new turf.

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