Page 246 of Mangled Memory
My eyes are almost scratchy from being warm and puffy. The crying jags have made them heavy and thick and sleep takes me quickly.
26
reverse midas touch
Christian
I have no idea how long I’ve been outside. Long enough that the cold has seeped in even with my thick coat. When the back door opens with a snick and a shadow moves out onto the stone patio, I stand.
“How is she?”
“No.” Cian’s voice is forceful. “No, we don’t start it like this.”
“I only care that she’s okay, so there’s no other way I’ll start it.” I don’t want to go toe to toe with either of Ayla’s brothers. Liam is a bulldozer. Cian is the kind I suspect does martial arts but tells no one. He’s solid, carries himself in a manner that shows no fear, and that’s not because he’s overly cocky. It’s because he knows his body so well.
His feet are planted wide, and his hands rest on his hips. With the light streaming in behind him from the living room lamps, he could be imposing. If I gave a single shit about that.
“Try again,” he says with lethal quiet in his voice.
“Is Ayla okay?”
The sigh that leaves him might as well say I’m an idiot and he’s over dealing with me. “Is Ayla okay? Of course, she’s not. She found out today that she’s legally incompetent—which you and I both know she most certainly is not—and that she has no agency in her own life. Can you imagine if youwoke up to discover you didn’t have the authority or right to spend your own money or make your own choices?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I can.”
The snarl on his face would make a lesser man quake in his boots. And for the first time, I can see the anger Seamus always has simmering under the surface coiling like a snake ready to strike in his son.
“May we?” I gesture to the chairs to sit.
“No. We may not.” The bite in his words is evident.
I begin. I tell him what happened and when. I tell him why and how the decision came to be. And when I’m through, he scrubs a hand down his face before taking that seat he so quickly refused, his legs deciding that holding his weight isn’t in the cards after all.
He extends a hand to a chair next to him as he wordlessly stares out into the trees and beyond.
I wait.
And wait.
When the quiet of the Colorado night is broken by the rumbling growl of Harley pipes, he looks up before grabbing his phone and typing out a quick message.
The night goes silent once again.
Within moments, Liam Murphy stalks around the house and onto the terrace, body tight and eyes fierce, moving for me in act-first think-later aggression.
“What the fuck?” The steel in his voice slices through the quiet of the night.
“Have a seat, Li,” Cian says quietly.
“No.”
Hell. Here we go again.
“Trust me.” Cian extends a hand and looks toward his younger brother.
