Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 120838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 604(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 604(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
I took my hand from his knee and returned my attention to the women.
They were both staring at Dair’s knee, Davi with an incredulous, elated expression, and Kenna with an incredulous, peaceful one (yes, those didn’t seem like they could work together, but they did).
“I can’t speak for everyone,” I broke their weird fascination with Dair’s knee and got their focus. “But whatever you need from me, Kenna.”
“She likes steak,” Davi said before popping a grape into her mouth.
That made me laugh.
Things seemed less tense after all of that, and we ate and drank coffee (or tea), and waited for the next ordeal to knock on the door.
I didn’t have a very good internal clock (probably why I was late too often), but I’d gauge Bally was late too since my estimate was that a good fifteen minutes passed before that knock came.
We were all done eating, thus we were only sipping.
Kenna opened her mouth, but she shut it, her gaze following her son as he unfurled his long body from the couch and prowled to the door.
Prowling, stalking, the man could move.
Lord.
He opened the door.
Bally jolted when he saw him.
“Mum’s divorcing you,” Dair declared, and I closed my eyes.
Men.
Or rather, protective sons.
I opened them when he kept talking.
“You’re to stay in Edinburgh. She’ll let ye ken when ye can come and get your shite from the house.” He took hold of the suitcase and rolled it into his father’s legs. “Now ye can take this and go.”
“I’d like to speak to my wife,” Bally said through his teeth.
Dair didn’t move from barring the door, but he did turn his head to look at his mum.
“Ye interested in anything he has to say?” he queried.
“Actually…no,” she replied, like she just had that thought.
“Kenna—” Bally started, trying to push in.
Dair butted chests with him. “Not another step.”
Oh boy.
I prepared to stand up and intervene.
Bally attempted to look beyond him and said to Kenna, “I’d like the chance to explain.”
I knew Dair was winding up to reply, but Kenna stood and called, “Dair.”
He looked at his mother again, hesitated two very long, excruciating beats, and stepped aside, a muscle dancing up his cheek.
Shoving the suitcase out of the way, Bally took two steps in.
Dair closed the door.
“Please, in front of your family,”—Kenna spread her hands before her—“explain.”
But Bally spied me, so he requested politely, “Lass, can I have some privacy with my family?”
Even though I wasn’t sure I should leave with Dair in his current mood, I moved to stand.
Dair stated, “She’s not going anywhere.”
I stopped moving.
“No offense, son,” Bally said to Dair. “But this is Wallace business.”
“And you’re a Wallace. And you’ve been thrusting your cock in her mother for decades. Think she’s earned her place on that couch.”
Bally’s ruddy cheeks got ruddier as he held his son’s gaze. “This is private business, and should be private, even from you.”
“It wasn’t private when I saw you fucking her in our stables,” Dair shot back.
Oh shit.
Kenna gasped.
Davi audibly gulped.
“And it wasn’t private when Blake saw you going at it with her mother in the hall in Treverton,” Dair carried on. He then added, “She was no more than ten.”
Bally paled.
Kenna sank back in her chair.
“Ye catch ’em?” Dair asked Davina.
“Not doing the deed, just kissing,” Davi said in a small voice.
Her small voice, which was so not Davi, served to enrage Dair.
This led to his tone being hard and tight, and his affect being mildly terrifying (and it was only mildly because his fury was not aimed at me) when he demanded, “So…explain. Tell us why ye put us through this. Why ye broke Mum’s heart. Find those words, Dad. We’re waiting to hear them.”
Bally swallowed and then started, “A man—”
And with that, not that he had that firm of a hold on it, Dair lost it.
Entirely.
Spiking toward his father, he shouted, “Fuck that! Bloody fuck that fucking shite!”
“Step back, son,” Bally said in a shaky voice.
Dair did not step back.
“All my fucking life, you’ve drilled into me, the last thing ye wanted me to be was a weak man.” He reared back only to thump his chest like a caveman. “Real men hunt. Real men dress their own game. Real men play rugby, not football. Real men have a natural seat on a horse. Real men belch after a good meal as a compliment to the chef and can drink their weight in whisky.” He got in his dad’s face again and continued, “Real men provide. Real men protect. Real men gather as much pussy as they can before they find the one, but when they do, they cherish her. Did ye cherish Mum while ye were fucking Helena, Dad? Is that what ye were doing?”
“I-I’ve disappointed you.” Bally turned to look at Kenna and Davina. “I’ve disappointed you all.”
“Did ye aye, Dad,” Davi sneered.