After retrieving his phone from the jeans he’d left on the floor last night, he pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants and made his way to the kitchen. He went directly to the high-tech coffeepot he’d bought Merlee two Christmases ago and conjured the strongest, darkest coffee he’d ever made to help get him through this.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
In the process of adding a teaspoon of sugar to his cup, he turned to see Merlee in a nightshirt with her hair like his—all over the place. He reached over and pulled another cup from the cabinet.
“I’m sure,” he said, adding a lot of sugar and milk to a cup of coffee for Merlee. She walked over and placed her back against the kitchen sink as he looked out the window on the wall above it. They drank in silence as indigo sky transitioned to a shadowy slate gray. Big Country noticed each furtive glance Merlee threw his way.
“You had a right,” he said eventually. “Me and the grands were always so focused on protecting you, we failed to prepare you. If you understood who they were maybe you’d have been ready for their bullshit, so for our oversight, I apologize.”
She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder as he continued. “From day one you were more mine than theirs, you know. Belle Mère had kids, yeah, but she was never one for motherhood, and the ol’ man, all he ever cared about was her. They are a kind of sickness to each other. They ruined Thibideux and Wallace early, and because Wallace was the oldest brother, he was most vulnerable to their influence, I truly believed that’s why he died so early. By the time I came along, the grands were on alert; they brought me here as often as they could, but I was Belle Mère’s special boy. I watched out for Armand even though I was only two years older. I liked to learn, which the ol’ man hated, so I learned all I could to spite the bastard. When you were born, I was the one who changed your diapers, fed you, dressed you, put you to sleep, carried you on the hip ’til you was old enough to toddle behind me and Armand.”
He placed his empty cup in the sink, noticing the pale blush on the horizon.
“The bad part about it all was that things were not always bad. Me and Armand lived wild in that bayou, you could barely keep us inside.” He smiled, remembering. Most times all they wore were cutoff jeans and sneakers, and the cutoffs were more optional than the shoes. “Belle Mère favored me, and that meant I got the largest dose of the old man’s fist whenever she showed me affection.”
He felt more than heard Merlee’s gasp. “You were a child.”
“I was big for my age. Hell, by the time Mama came for us, my flesh was gator tough. For a while I didn’t believe I’d ever feel again but when I did…”
“The episodes.”
“Yeah.”
His phone vibrated, and he reached for it.
“Don’t beat yourself up about any of this, Merlee-girl. It’s past time I…it’s past time.”
Merlee hugged him then wiped her eyes and moved toward the fridge. “Go take your call and get out of my kitchen so I can make breakfast before y’all head out.”
He opened the sliding glass door that led to the pergola-covered patio and stepped into an atmosphere weighted with moisture. It was warm, a hint of coolness stirring through the breeze, the gathering clouds portending early morning rain.
Looking at his phone, he saw that he’d just missed a message from Lynx simply saying:I’ll c u soon.
That in and of itself was disturbing, butit was thenot-so-recent system notifications from his computer system at Mama’s House that made him stare at the screen, attempting to control his breathing. Why hadn’t anyone called him earlier? Hell, they could have even called Merlee or Stormy if he didn’t pick up, but it was obvious they’d never even attempted.
He paused, considered the possibility that maybe they hadn’t been able.
It was the fire and detonation protocols that had been activated. He immediately thought of Delilah setting fire to Stormy’s home, but none of the external systems had been triggered, so she couldn’t have snuck on or off the mountain without Gambit detecting her…hell, anyone.
“Fuck!”
To hell with speculation.
He accessed the video feed in the bar from the moments before the protocol was triggered, heard the saint speaking to Delilah on the phone. The younger man was shattered; Big Country felt his desperation, his hopelessness.
When Cornelius turned the cross’s circular center as if setting a cooking timer, Big Country knew…and so did the rest of the Brood. His cross was a detonation device, but it had to be one that held two separate liquids that became combustible when combined. Anything like C4 or gunpowder would never have gotten past the front door. The system scanned for those things.
He should have made a better goddamn system.
Zeus’s blade sunk into the saint’s chest. Cizan threw himself at Zeus and they went flying as flames engulfed the saint.
Big Country killed the feed and called Mama’s House. It was a little before four there, but the call would be answered.
“You safe?” Terry answered, no evidence of being awakened from sleep in his voice. Of course Terry wouldn’t sleep, not till he knew the status of every Brood member, no matter where they were in the world.
“I can be on a plane home within the hour,” Big Country said.
“You’ve taken care of your family business?” It was Mama who responded, and he knew he was on speaker because she sounded farther away, her voice gravelly as if she’d just woken from sleep or been crying.
