Page 4 of Whiskey & Witches

She turned the knob and stepped away, presenting her back. “It wasn’t locked.”

“You’d try the patience of a saint.”

“You’re getting repetitive, Carrick, my love. I’d make a concerted effort to find another way to insult me if I were you. It shouldn’t be too hard.” Without bothering to spare him a glance, she limped to the stove and spooned stew into two bowls. She slapped them on the table and followed it with a crusty loaf of freshly baked bread. “Eat. You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in ages.”

She sat to his right to hide the direct line of sight to her scarred side. After a long, tense moment, he joined her at the table. They ate in silence, shoulders bumping lightly, and she got lost to another time when the two of them had broken bread together. A time when love and laughter were the themes of the day. A time when they had lovingly fed each other and followed each bite with a delicious kiss.

“I think you have to stop coming by, Ro. You’re frightening Aeden.”

“I’m not giving up.” She struggled to keep her voice steady even though her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, on the verge of breaking completely. “I’ve never let him see the marks, and anyway, I think he’s ready for the truth.”

“I don’t.” Carrick’s voice was as grim as his look. “His behavior is worse. And when you appear like you do, lookin’ like Meg, you remind him of his mother.”

Her stomach clenched in knots, and she wanted to shout that shewashis mother. “Is that such a bad thing? To let him think of me?”

Carrick set his spoon down with a loud clatter. “Yes, it is. Thoughts of you are bad for all of us.”

Blinking furiously, she set down her spoon and placed her shaking hands flat on the table. “You’re a complete arse! We were great, Carrick. Those memories are good for him, and if we take the time to explain, he’ll understand. He’s a clever boy.”

“It triggers the night terrors.” Carrick shoved his bowl away. “I’m sorry, Ro. I have to do what’s best for him, all the same.”

“You mean what youthinkis best for him.”

“He’ll never accept you. Not like this.”

She glanced up in time to see the pity in his eyes. Rage clouded her vision, and the plates on a nearby shelf rattled as an expression of her most profound emotions. “Get out of my house and never come back.”

“Ro—”

“Get out!”

The ground rumbled, and his face grew pale.

“Is this what happened that day? Did your anger take over?” he demanded.

Her fury faded into a black void of grief. “I don’t know. I don’t remember much.”

But she did. She rememberedalmosteverything, although she wouldn’t say it, not to him anyway. He didn’t need to seek out the truth and get himself hurt or possibly killed going after a phantom. But she’d find their attacker, and whoever it was would pay for what he did to her family. For now, she would try to be patient a little longer, but that patience was thinning. Answers needed to be discovered, and soon.

Roisin climbed to her feet with great care. If she moved at a pace faster than a snail, her back would pinch, and it would take the devil’s own magic to make the muscles respond to her commands.

Carrick jumped up to assist her.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, her voice raspy and raw. “Nevertouch me.”

“I was only trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help.” What she wanted was her family back, andthathe wouldn’t give her. Never mind that she’d initially thought the plan a sound one. She’d quickly discovered they’d erred in their scheming. Aeden was getting worse, not better, and she was never going to heal the scars on her face. Her magic was too erratic and never lasted long.

Roisin shuffled to the other end of the kitchen and reached for the elixir she’d concocted for Aeden. Her back spasmed, and she couldn’t prevent a cry of pain. Silently cursing herself for overdoing her exercise today, she gritted her teeth and tried to push through the worst of it.

Warm, strong arms encircled her from behind, and for a brief, heavenly second, Carrick held her to his chest. She didn’t have more than a heartbeat or two to savor the feel of his touch before he scooped her up and set her on the kitchen bench.

“Bleeding stubborn to the last.” There was a hint of affection in his statement. When he squatted to look at her face, she lifted her hands to shield the damage. “Your scars don’t matter to me, Ro. They never have.”

“Sure they do. They matter enough that I can’t be part of your life. Part of Aeden’s.”

His expression turned to stone, and he stood. “He has horrific nightmares of that day. It’s caused him to shut down. I’ll not subject him to anything that could trigger more trauma for him.” He softened marginally. “Webothagreed it was the right thing to do, Ro.”

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