"I'll let you know if I get any news about him. In the meantime, clean this fucking mess up before Mrs. O'Mara castrates you both."
As soon as he was out of earshot, my twin turned to me with a glare.
"You hurt her and you're dead to me."
I stepped back in surprise at the venom in his voice.
"Hurting her is the last thing I want to do." The thought of hurting my sweet angel made me feel sick inside. She'd been hurt enough in her life.
"Then stop acting like a jealous twat."
"I'm not jealous," I lied, but the fucker just laughed.
"Yeah, you are." He grinned. "Feel free to join me later when I make my Pixie girl come so hard she passes out."
Before I could reply, he sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving me with all the mess. This was one of those times I wished I'd murdered the cocky bastard while we were still in the womb.
As I sighed and reached for a broken chair leg, debating whether to shove it up Ronan's ass, my phone rang.
Maeve.
Fuck my life. I'd told her we were over, but she kept calling and messaging. After rejecting her call, I collected the rest of the broken chair pieces and tossed them into the kindling basket. We'd need to buy some new chairs, but an online shopping spree could wait.
Maybe Ronan was right, I mused, as I covered the plate of food Verity hadn't touched and placed it in the refrigerator. Then it struck me. Had she eaten anything today?
She'd lost weight lately, another sign she wasn't coping well.
Before I could overthink it, I made her a ham and cheese sandwich and cut a slice of coffee and walnut cake. She needed to eat something, as we had a gym session in the morning.
I chose not to speculate whether Ronan was currently with her. I'd knock on her door, and if she didn't answer, send a message to let her know there was food waiting outside for her.
No sound came from her room when I reached her bedroom door. Was my brother not with her?
When I knocked, I heard a faint curse, and then the door swung open.
"What?" If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under by now.
"You didn't eat your dinner, so I brought you some food." I thrust the plate at her as she stared up at me, her brown eyes almost black in the sparse light from her bedroom.
"I lost my appetite," she huffed with a sigh, refusing to look at me. My eyes snagged on a canvas tote bag with a few items stuffed in. Was she planning to leave? Over my dead body!
"You need to eat, Verity." I decided not to mention the go-bag.
"I can stand to lose some weight," she said under her breath while picking at the loose tee she wore. "You should leave now. I'm tired."
Anger flared. Why did she always put herself down? She wasn't fat. Far from it, in fact.
"You do not need to lose weight," I snapped. "You're perfect as you are."
Her eye roll said she didn't believe me, so I pressed forward.
"Who told you otherwise?"
She shrugged, but didn't stop me from entering her room. Since she hadn't taken the plate, I walked over to her nightstand and placed it on there.
"Guys."Guys?Which motherfuckers, aside from the asshole who'd been sending her hateful messages, had said that? If she gave me names, I'd make sure to re-educate them.
"Tell me who," I gritted out while planning how I'd make them see the error of their ways.
