Page 157 of Shaken Not Stirred
She jerked her chin toward her brother. “Who do you think taught him how to dance?”
“Jesus,” I said under my breath. “You created a monster.”
“Talking of creating monsters,” my wife murmured, jerking her thumb.
I followed her direction to see Wilder helping Imogen up onto a table, and my heart gave a panicked thud.
My baby had started walking by herself about three days after we got back to Wyoming from Idaho. There was no stopping her. She was into everything, and we needed eyes in the back of our damned heads.
It wasn’t helped by Wilder Stone, who Immie followed around like he was the Pied fucking Piper. He’d already gone missing at least five times in the last couple of months because he’d taken to walking the three miles from the clubhouse to our place all by himself to see her and not telling anyone.
One morning, Cara had woken up, and he’d disappeared. She couldn’t find him anywhere.
He’d sneaked out at two in the morning, walked to our house, thrown pebbles at Immie’s window, then shimmied up the drainpipe into her bedroom before falling asleep on the floor by her bed.
Only God knew how he didn’t set the alarms off. We only worked out what happened because our security cameras caught him doing his Spiderman impression when he scaled the wall of the damned house.
The kid was a fucking lunatic, but still, as much as my heart was in my mouth watching my baby girl clamber onto that table, I saw Wilder had a tight hold of her.
He’d never let any harm come to my Immie.
“Give me that whiskey, Ma,” I said dryly. “I fucking need it.”
Mam laughed and handed me the glass, then held out a cocktail for Rosie. “Here you go, love. Get that down your neck.”
Rosie looked at it, then her eyes cut to me. “Umm—Errr.”
Mam’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with ya. Have you got the shits or something?”
Rosie’s lips twitched.
I gave my wife a little nudge. “Go on. Tell her.”
“Well...” Rosie began. “We’re not sure yet. We haven’t done the test, but...” Her voice trailed off.
Mam’s eyes went huge, and she breathed, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”
“Don’t tell anyone, Maureen. We don’t even know ourselves for sure. I have the test in my bag. I was going to do it later today.” Rosie’s chin dipped. “You wanna do it with me?”
I thought Mam was about to explode with excitement. She wrung her hands together, a huge smile on her face, and whispered, “Sweet baby Jesus. Sweet, sweet,sweetbaby Jesus.”
The music quietened, and the sound of clinking glass echoed through the room, followed by my brother's voice calling out, “Can I have everyone’s attention?”
Every eye turned Callum’s way.
He shot me an evil grin. “As Donovan’sunofficialbest man, I’d like to step up to the plate and do a little speech.”
Laughter went up along with a chorus of people hollering their encouragement as my brother turned and swept his arm in my direction. “I’d just like to begin by saying we were all young once, so please, no judgment.”
Atlas’s booming chuckle cut through the bar, and his deep voice shouted, “Go on, Cal. Make the bastard squirm.”
My heart sank.
Callum turned back to the room. “I’d like to start off by saying that being Donovan’s brother means my experiences with him growing up were different from most of yours, though I doubt any of you would be surprised at the stupid shit he got up to. Though I have to say, there’s no brother more generous than Donovan O’Shea. We shared everything... candy, clothes...” His eyes cut to me and flashed wickedly. “...women.”
Rosie pushed out a laugh just as the room filled with catcalls.
“I’ll fecking kill you, Callum O’Shea, you eejit,” Ma shrieked.
I buried my head in my hands because I knew what was about to come, and it was gonna be bad. My mind cast back to Callum’s wedding day, and my best man speech, and I cursed under my breath.
Then, while my brother continued to rip me to goddamned shreds by telling the entire town all about my dirty, deranged exploits over the years, one word filled my head.
Payback.
The End
