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Lawless Sinners

Page 178

by Autumn Archer

“Jesus, Sera.” He sighs. “I was resting.”

“Resting?” I make a face at him. “You stopped answering me.”

“I heard your yappy voice loud and clear.”

He glances down the hallway and scratches his jaw.

“You’re enjoying this,” he says. “Aren’t ya?”

“Immensely.”

“I’ll remember this, gobshite.”

“You can remember it from the sofa.”

I keep a hold of his wrist until he gives up arguing and lets me guide him back to the sitting room. He lowers himself into the armchair with his jaw locked, taking twice as long as usual to get comfortable.

The blanket I’d left folded over the armrest slides onto the floor. I pick it up and throw it across his legs.

“Jesus fuck, Sera, I’m not eighty.”

“Then stop trying to die before ya reach thirty.”

“It’s the risk we all take.”

“You never did tell me what happened,” I say. “You went after the butcher, right?”

He nods.

“And?”

“We fought. I took a knife, and then I got a good swipe at—” Rafe exhales and shakes his head slowly. “—her.”

“Her?” I repeat, looking at him again. The masked butcher is a woman. I shouldn’t respect anyone who put a knife in my brother, but I’m kinda impressed.

“Yeah, her. The butcher's a woman,” he replies. “And I stabbed her with her own blade. Then she scurried off.”

“Did ya see her face?”

“No,” he sighs. “Just heard her voice as she swore at me when I knifed her.”

His phone rings on the coffee table before I can get more information out of him. He keeps my stare for another second, then answers the call, tosses two pills into his mouth, and swallows them dry as he listens.

I leave him alone to talk and throw on my coat before heading out the door

The rain has held off since morning, but the clouds sit dark and heavy over the far-off fields. Rafe's right. All of us take risks. These days, though, peace never seems to last for long.

When I reach the main barn, Shay comes out to meet me. “Is he still milkin’ it?”

“It’d be easier if he was. He thinks everything will collapse if he spends another hour lying low.”

“It might.” Shay cocks a brow. “Dane’s doing the invoices.”

I groan. “That explains why the feed company called me three times.”

Shay wanders off, and I walk into the office where there’s paperwork spread across every available surface.

I blow out a long breath, sit in the chair behind the desk, and leaf through the pages.