Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Lara

Michael's foot nudges mine under the kitchen table for the second time. Again, I ignore him.

My cheeks burn, the memories of last night still fresh.

After a third nudge, I finally give in.

Raising a brow, I silently ask, "What?"

"Nothing," he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth.

I bite my lip, ducking my gaze away.

"Michael Cromwell, you stop embarrassing that girl," Helen berates him.

"What did I do?" he demands.

Helen narrows her eyes at her son. "I don't know, but I'm sure it was something."

I giggle .

Helen presses a kiss to my hair as she leaves the kitchen, adding, "Give me a shout if he gives you any trouble."

"Yes, ma'am." I play along.

"Seems Sam's been replaced as my mom's favorite." Michael winks.

"Nuh-uh, take that back!" Sam demands from farther up the table.

"Just calling it as I see it."

Leaning back, I soak in the sibling playfulness.

I'm definitely having more than one child. One day.

I don't want to spoil the mood, but I need to tell Michael about going into town today . . . alone.

Taking a swig of orange juice, I dive in headfirst. "Charlie, can I catch a ride with you when you go to college later? I need to go to my dorm."

"Umm . . ." Charlie stalls, looking at Michael.

Michael's fork pauses halfway to his mouth. "What do you need to go home for?"

I prepared for this. "I need to go into town to run some errands," I say, trying to stay casual and calm.

"We're going into town later to meet Molly at the clerk's office," he reminds me.

Shit. I was hoping he'd forget about that.

"No, it's okay. I need to go home first."

The cutlery clanks on his plate as he lays it down, elbows propped on the table, and his fingers intertwined under his chin. I have his full attention.

"Why?"

"To change," I say like it's obvious, gesturing at another set of Charlie's borrowed clothes I have on. The hoodie is nice and thin, but the leggings barely fit.

I take another drink of orange juice.

"Try that again," he suggests, not buying it.

The conversation around us continues to flow, leaving us in a bubble of our own. Who knew you could feel so alone at a table full of people? A sigh stutters out of me.

"Open that mouth and lie, see what happens," he dares.

Fuck.

I twirl my glass, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the top. Michael's hand grips the glass, stilling my movements.

"I need to go for a run."

His head goes back, confusion washing over his face.

"Okay. You could have just said that." He pauses, seeming to think for a second. "How's your ankle?"

"Good." I nod.

"We'll go for a run, meet Molly, and then we can run your errands before we meet my family at the county clerk's office."

"No," I rush out.

Michael lifts a brow. "We're getting married, Lara."

"I need to do the errands alone."

Subtle, real subtle .

His brows shoot up when he realizes it's not the marriage I'm protesting.

My heart flutters at the thought of marrying this man. I know I should be kicking and screaming, and if we were somewhere else, I might. But here and now, with this loving and loyal family, I just can't get myself to say the words.

I barely know Michael, but I've never felt this way before. Besides, something tells me fighting this would get me nowhere.

My mind reminds me of the last two times that Michael has punished me—in my dorm when I said someone else's name and in the truck when I wouldn't repeat what he wanted. Both times had been . . . painful and erotic.

My panties dampen. Maybe arguing wouldn't be so bad.

"No."

"No?"

"You heard me," he says calmly, picking his fork back up.

And just like that, the conversation is over.

Muffled shouting interrupts our morning. All three men stand at once.

"The fuck is that?" Kaleb asks.

Michael shrugs. "Dad's just gone to the door. Give him a second."

Turning in my seat, I try to get a look outside but can only see as far as the living room.

"Where's Mom?" Daniel asks, his concern clear .

Michael leans to the left, getting a better look into the other room. "By the front door. Which means Dad's outside."

"Take the baby upstairs and stay there with her," Daniel orders Charlie. His voice is growly and rough like the last few times I've heard it. But this time, it's also sharp and forceful.

Charlie pales, her eyes dashing to the front door. The man is a human mountain, but as he cradles his wife's face to run his nose against hers, you'd think he was nothing more than a marshmallow. Definitely not the same man who cleaned my crime scene of a bedroom to within an inch of its life and disposed of a dead body.

I melt.

"Go with her," Michael tells me, getting my attention with a tug of my hair. I shake my head.

"Now, Charlotte," Daniel urges his wife.

Charlie reacts right away, gathering Belle close and hurrying upstairs.

"You ever going to listen to me like that?" Michael quips.

I shake my head again. But he doesn't get mad, and the corner of his lips lifts just slightly.

The sound of raised voices grows, Christopher the one now shouting, but I can't make out his words.

"You don't have to go upstairs, but stay in here," Michael orders, staying behind as his brothers leave. His finger nudges my gaze up to his. "You stay in here. "

I nod, but I don't mean it.

I'm not staying in here.

I wait a few seconds before rushing after him.

Outside, Cooper rants and raves in the front yard. He's beyond irate.

Peering around the men, I spot Helen leaning on the porch, her worry palpable while her husband tries to calm the other man.

"Your boy killed my Darrell!"

"Who the fuck is Darrell?" Kaleb mumbles out of the corner of his mouth.

"Now, can we kill him?" Daniel asks instead of answering.

I sneak up closer behind the brothers but stay unnoticed.

Michael gives a deep sigh. "No, he's causing too much of a scene. The whole town would notice."

"Spoilsport," Kaleb tuts, disappointed. "Can we kill Darrell?"

"I already did. He made the mistake of coming into Lara's room . . . while I was in there."

Kaleb laughs, drawing Cooper's attention.

"You think this is funny, boy? I'll show you funny."

"Easy!" Christopher snaps, blocking the way with a hand on Cooper's chest.

The three brothers step out onto the porch, spreading out. Michael stands at the top of the steps, Kaleb to his left, and Daniel has moved in front of Helen to his right. Like a choreographed dance. Each man knows where to go .

"They belong in prison!" Cooper spits.

"I've told you before, leave my property," Christopher demands. "I'm sorry about your nephew, but my boys had nothing to do with it."

All three men stand tall at his words.

Something glints to my left, catching my eye. Kaleb's holding a kitchen knife clutched behind his back.

I choke on my breath a little.

When had he grabbed that off the cutting board? It still has pieces of chopped mushroom on it.

The handle rolls around in his hand. He's comfortable, too comfortable. But not like a chef because he's holding it wrong. He clutches it in a way that points the blade behind him. You wouldn't do that to cut something . . . you'd do it to stab something.

Holy shit, he's one of them. My gaze slides between the three brothers. Halloween, in my dorm, had clearly been something they'd been prepared for.

How many? How many have they killed? Did they all deserve it? Is Cooper right? God, should I have gone to the police?

I'm just as bad as Michael. We're all going to jail.

Panic consumes me, taking my breath. How stupid can I be? I'm out here letting this man ruin my body for others, all the while ignoring that he killed a man. It doesn't matter that he saved me, right?

"Get him out of here." Michael's words pierce my brain, but they just don't register .

Hands, large and warm, stroke my numb face. Lips brush my skin, slowly working their way to my mouth, until eventually they coax me into a slow, sweet kiss. One that breathes life into me and takes away my anxiety, leaving me soft and my brain foggy.

"You still want to go into town for errands?" he whispers against my mouth.

I nod, but for the life of me, I can't remember what I wanted to go for. All I know is, killer or not, I just want his lips against mine again.

Shit, I'm in trouble.