by Lora Leigh
“What did I do?” She frowned back at him.
Dawg wiped his hand over his face before staring back at her, the firm, commanding look giving way to a loving exasperation that always made her feel as though she had no chance of measuring up.
“You didn’t come to me,” he answered then, and for a second she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. “Even your sisters come to me when they need me. But when it was important, you didn’t do that, Zoey.”
God, no. He couldn’t know. There was no way he knew.
She jumped to her feet, aware that he was moving just as quickly. So quickly that as she moved to rush past him, he still managed to get to his feet and catch her by her arm. Gently.
“Let me go.” Pushing the words past clenched teeth as she refused to look at him, Zoey fought back the anger, the betrayal she’d kept a handle on for four years now.
“Why didn’t you come to me, Zoey?” he questioned her, the command in his tone once again. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on instead of hating us . . .”
“Is that what you think?” Jerking away, she turned on him, anger still a force that raged through her with such strength she had no idea how to contain it sometimes. “Do you think I hated you, that I blamed you somehow?”
Confusion flickered across his expression. “I would have helped . . .”
She laughed, a broken, bitter sound that caused her brother to flinch. “What would you have done, Dawg? What do you think you could have done?”
“Zoey, what have we done to you?” He gentled then. Reaching out, he pushed back a heavy fall of curls that trailed down the side of her face, until he could meet her gaze fully. “What have we done, baby sister, to make you think we’d not protect you?”
She trembled at the question. She couldn’t stop the tears that filled her eyes or those that overflowed to run down her cheeks.
“I love all of you,” she tried to reassure him. “You haven’t done anything. Nothing is your fault.”
“Why not tell him what you did, Zoey?”
Dawg jerked around, dragging her behind him as his big body blocked hers from the sight of the man stepping from the tree line.
Elegant. So handsome he made her heart break every time she saw him. The one man she’d prayed she could avoid just a little while longer.
The day of reckoning was here though. She couldn’t hide from it any longer. She couldn’t fight it any longer.
He may have betrayed her. He may have lied to her in the worst possible way, but it was her fault. She had no one else to blame.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered at Dawg’s back, laying her forehead against him as a sob tore through her. “I’m so sorry, Dawg.”
“Doogan, what the fuck are you doing here?” The sound of his voice was savage, like a predator determined to protect its offspring.
“Ask your sister, Dawg,” Doogan’s voice was quiet, intent. “Ask her why I’m here.”
“Dawg, do we have a problem?” Natches asked the question.
“Doogan, this is a family party,” Rowdy stated calmly. “You weren’t invited.”
“And you’re sure as hell not family,” Timothy, the man she often wished had been her father, stated with that razor edge of innate arrogance he always carried whenever he felt his family was being threatened in some way.
“Thank god,” Doogan drawled then, the amusement in his tone causing her to shake. He was at his most dangerous now, his most cunning. “Why not tell them why I’m here, Zoey? Or are you going to force me to do it?”
“No.” Pushing away from Dawg she forced herself out from behind him, trying to move in front of him, trying to stop the tide of destruction before it began. “Stop this,” she demanded, anger raging through her now, shaking so hard now she wondered how she was still standing. “Don’t do this, Doogan. Don’t turn this into a war.”
“Natches.” Dawg’s tone was the warning. Unfortunately, she wasn’t fast enough.
Natches pulled her to him, against his side, holding her firmly as she struggled against him, staring back at Chatham Doogan, begging him silently, knowing it wouldn’t do her a damned bit of good.
“Go to the house with Natches, Zoey,” Dawg ordered firmly, never taking his eyes off Chatham. “We’ll discuss this there.”
“Where you can surround me with Mackay males and the agents you so carefully pulled away from me?” Chatham chuckled as though amused by them all. “That was an excellent move by the way, arranging to have my agents fall head over heels for the women they believed they couldn’t have. What better bait than to make a man think he can’t have a woman he desires? Ah Dawg, you’re good. You, Rowdy, and Natches are really good . . .”
“Better than you know,” Natches assured him as Zoey stopped struggling, shocked by her cousin’s declaration. “Good enough to have already figured out exactly what you’re doing here and why Zoey was terrified to come to us when she realized she was in trouble.”
“Really?” Chatham drawled. “And why is that?”
Zoey shook her head slowly, holding his gaze, bitter, hollow rage destroying her from the inside out.
He was destroying her and he knew it. He would destroy her and her family and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“Get the hell out of Somerset, Doogan,” Tim demanded then. “Don’t turn this into a fight. It’s one you won’t win and you know it. Not against me.”
Chatham smiled. “Perhaps, perhaps not.” His gaze never left hers.
“You know this is wrong.” Helpless, desperate, she knew begging wouldn’t help. Doogan would only see weakness in a plea. “We had a deal . . .”
“But you reneged on your side, sweetheart,” he stepped forward slowly, his gaze pinning her, forcing her to remember, forcing her to make a choice.
“I didn’t renege,” she all but screamed back at him, hating him, hating herself more. “You lied to me, Doogan. You lied.”
“Don’t do it, Doogan,” Dawg warned him softly. “You’ll regret it.”
Chatham only stared back at her mercilessly. “Zoey Mackay, you’re under arrest for the murder of Harley Perdue . . .”
Then all hell broke loose.