Page 231 of Five Brothers
But Trace interjects. “It’s fine. I’ll do the job.”
He stares down at his food, and I’m not sure what the hell is going on. I mean, I know I’ve been yelling at him to grow up for years, but now that he is … I dig in my eyebrows.
Dallas chimes in again. “I’ll fill in for him.”
Trace gapes at his brother. I dig in my eyebrows deeper.What. The. Fuck.
“Are you sure?” Trace asks him.
Dallas shrugs, shoveling food in. “I’m not doing anything else.”
“Thanks.” Trace finally puts on a happy face. “I’ll get you back.”
“What the hell happened while I was gone?” someone says. We all look up as Liv leans in the doorway with her hands in her pockets.
“Hey!” Trace shoots up, grabbing her in a hug like she wasn’t just home three weeks ago.
He sits, and she whips off her black jacket, heading to the stove for a bowl. “I leave for college and y’all turn sweet?”
“What are you doing home?” Army asks her.
“Christmas.”
“That’s this month?” Dallas looks around the table. “Shit.”
She scoops chili into a bowl, sniffing it as she puts the lid back on the pot. “Ugh, what did you do to my recipe?”
“I taught you how to make that, you little shit,” I mumble.
“You tried to,” she fires back.
She swings her leg over the chair at the end of the table like she’s climbing on a horse and sits. I glance up briefly.
“Table is feeling empty without you and Iron.” Trace hands her some bread. “And Krisjen.”
“Thanks.” She takes a slice and then looks around. “Where is Krisjen? At Mariette’s?”
I chew, the table falling quiet. No one has mentioned her since I came home that morning. They knew to leave it alone.
“We saw her in town today,” Dallas finally says. “She looked different.”
“Gorgeous, actually,” Army adds.
“Like glass,” Trace mumbles over his food. “Beautiful, shiny, fucking glass.”
He sounds angry.
“All the Saints look like that,” Dallas tells him.
I push my spoon through the chili, feeling eyes on me. When I look up, Liv is watching me.
“But when they love you,” she muses, “you’ve never had anything softer in your arms.”
My heart stops.
“Like they’re so grateful when someone is gentle with them,” she almost whispers.
I feel my pulse in my stomach, seeing Krisjen in my head. In my house, in the tub next to me that day, in my restaurant …