“Nice that they care,” Bruno observed. “I could use the support.”
“Yeah. And speaking of which. If you’re going to get cozy with the McClouds, make it count. It’s time you and Kev’s brothers got your ya-yas out with each other.”
His brows knit. “I told you. I’ve got no problem with them.”
“That’s a big fat stinking lie,” she said. “But I wasn’t referring to that, actually. I was talking about the problem they have with you.”
He looked blank. “Lily, we don’t have time for cryptic bullshit.”
She shrugged, shivering. “Nothing cryptic about it. You’re jealous of them. They’re jealous of you. Isn’t that just a big joke? Hah, hah.”
“Jealous? Of me? Horseshit. Why should they be?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know why. But it’s obvious. I’m shocked you haven’t noticed it yourself. Probably you’re just too self-absorbed right now. The new Bruno, sans charm and all that.”
He shrugged a leather coat on over his bristling weapons load. “Is this some subtle form of female mind-fuck torture? To punish me?”
She shook her head. “It’s not a male-female thing at all,” she said. “It’s a gender-neutral thing. Ignore it if you like.”
He grunted his disgust. “I like,” he said. “We’ll save the group therapy for later. There’s no time for this emotional c right now.”
She swiped tears from her eyes. “I imagine that refers to me, too?”
“Yeah, it sure does,” he said. “Grow up, Lily.”
It popped out before she could stop it. “Fuck you, Ranieri.”
She regretted it like hell, but of course it was too late.
He’d been turning away, toward the SUV, but at that he turned back, considering her with narrowed eyes for a long moment.
Connor McCloud hit the horn, short but loud. Bruno ignored him and stalked over to Lily, grabbed her, and bent her over backward in one of those poster-worthy, soldier-going-off-to-war mega-galactic kisses.
Lily was too startled to resist. All too soon, he lifted his head, stared into her eyes. “I love you, too.”
She was speechless. He gave her a crooked smile, like he didn’t really expect an answer, and turned to the vehicle.
Blind panic surged. She lunged after him. “Bruno!”
Bruno caught her headlong rush, steadying her. “Yeah?”
Her mouth worked. She couldn’t find words for feelings that were just too big, too wide for them. Standard phrases were too small, too flat. Feelings backed up inside her, building pressure in the bottleneck. All that burst out was, “Thanks for the, uh, translation.”
The flash in his eyes made her heart thud. “I got it right?”
“Yeah.” The word squeezed out, strangled by the burning lump in her throat. “Thanks for not going off, leaving me with that as the last thing I said. It would have sucked.” If you never came back.
He rubbed his cheek against hers. “Took nerve, you know.”
“You’ll need nerve, hanging out with me.”
And they got sucked into the heart of that apocalyptic kiss again. Her heart bumped like it wanted to jump out of her chest, and her soul ached to braid itself together with his, and the world went away—
Except that the world started honking the car horn and strobing the brights against the garage wall. Smart-asses.
Kev popped open his door. “Hey! Save it for later, Romeo.”
Bruno cupped her face, stared into her eyes, breathing hard. His color was high. “Goddamnit,” he muttered.
She pulled his face back down, kissed him hungrily. “You be careful out there. Or I’ll kill you.”
His grin flashed as he got in, and the vehicle was in motion before the door swung shut. Fleeing Bruno’s hell-bitch girlfriend’s irrational demands. Headlights cut out abruptly. The doors groaned slowly open. The SUV backed out. The doors ground shut again. And her, alone, like an idiot. Wondering if she should have paid more attention to those last moments. Riveted every precious detail more deeply into her memory.
Tam stood by the door, closing the little control panel for the garage door. Edie, Kev’s fiancée, was in the doorway, too.
“You OK, Lily?” Edie’s voice was low and gentle.
Lily shook her head, pressed her hand to her mouth. She heard slippered footsteps padding, and Edie’s arm slid around her. “Worried?”
Lily nodded.
“If it’s any comfort to you, he’s got four of the toughest guys you’ll ever meet in that car with him. I’m talking rawhide. I pity the fool who messes with even one McCloud, let alone four of them.”
Lily shot her a grateful, if watery smile. Edie applied gentle pressure with her arm, coaxing Lily toward the door. “I know it makes you feel useless,” she said. “But you’re not. You’ll get your chance to have plenty more dangerous adventures before you’re through, I bet.”
“Hey, hanging out in Zia Rosa’s clutches is a dangerous adventure in itself,” Tam spoke up, her voice smoky with amusement. “Gird up your loins, girlfriend. That woman is going to take you to pieces.”
They squeezed out into the corridor. Edie gave Tam a teasing look. “Seems like you and she get along better these days.”
Tam rolled her eyes and indicated her swollen belly. “Of course. I’m engaged in repopulating the earth. So I’m now in the club of people who have the right to exist.” She paused and swept her eyes over Edie’s long, slender body. “You’re not in that club yet, are you?”
Edie made a noncommittal sound. “Don’t think so.”
Tam turned her gaze on Lily. “How about you? Being careful?”
Lily didn’t have a hope in hell of hiding the blush.
Tam smote her brow. “For God’s sake. What are you thinking?”
“Leave her alone,” Edie scolded. “It’s a tough time for her. And it’s not about thinking, Tam, it’s about feeling.”
“Feel all you want with your legs in the air and an implant in your arm!” She turned to Lily. “Do you want a morning-after pill?”
Lily faltered, stammering. “Ah . . .”
“Let me tell you something, Lily,” Tam said. “I’ve been on the run for my life alone. I’ve been on the run for my life with my kid. Alone’s better. Running for your life with a kid is hell on earth. Think about it.”
Lily nodded, cowed.
Edie frowned at Tam. “Let’s change the subject, please,” she said. “Come on. Let’s go up to the kitchen, make some tea. We can try another one of Zia’s cupcakes. She made some with chocolate frosting.”
Lily froze in her tracks. “I hate it,” she burst out. “I’m here, sipping tea and nibbling cupcakes while Bruno’s out there? What, should I maybe crochet a white lace doily while I’m at it?”
Tam and Edie exchanged glances.
Tam spoke, her voice dry. “Shot of bourbon, then?”
That hit her funny bone, hard. Lily laughed until her eyes filled with hot tears, and let them lead her inside.
23
It had started to rain. Hard, half frozen, dripping steadily into the neck of his jacket. His boots were drenched,
his feet so cold he couldn’t feel them. Bruno pried up another shovelful of rocks and dirt, and flung it up onto the heap of slop that had once been the pile of earth and was now threatening to ooze right back down into the hole from whence it had come. His shoulders burned; the blisters on his hands stung, gloves or no gloves. He wiped sweat off his face with his jacket sleeve, realizing too late that there was mud smeared all over it.
Davy worked alongside him, wrapped in his usual silence. Just monosyllabic grunts when speech was necessary, which, where Davy was concerned was rare. Amazing, that such a verbally challenged dude had managed to court and marry such a smart, pretty woman as Margot McCloud. And father children with her, too. The mind boggled.
All in all, after having worked for ten hours, since five o’clock that morning, with brief pauses for sandwiches, energy bars,
and water, Bruno was starting to half hope that the mysterious attackers would put in an appearance. Anything at all would be a nice break from what he was doing, even a pitched gun battle. The hole was waist deep, which was as deep as it would go. They’d hit bedrock a while back and had started digging laterally. It was nine feet wide, almost as long, and still no sign of the pissed-upon bones. And it was filling with water. He’d have to dive for the skeletons soon. Search by Braille, with a snorkel. Tony was probably spinning in his own grave. He imagined Tony’s rough voice. Four feet to the right, jerk-offs!
“Give me the shovel. You go guard. I’ll dig.” It was Kev, waterlogged and stoic. He hoisted the rifle, offering it to Bruno. “Go on.”
Bruno drove the shovel into the soil, feeling the metal ring against stone. The shock vibrated through his body. He leaned on the shovel and checked his watch. “I’ve only been at it for forty minutes,” he said. “You took a two-hour turn already. Come back in an hour and twenty.”
“I asked Tam about your bruises,” Kev said. “She said you looked like shit. Get the fuck out of that hole and take the gun.”
Bruno met his adopted brother’s eyes. “I’m fine. I’d rather dig.”
The silence was charged. Then, amazingly, Davy spoke up.
“Well, now. Isn’t that just touching as all hell.” His gravelly voice dripped irony like a row of icicles.
Kev’s gaze slashed over to his older brother. “What?”
Davy flung his shovelful of mud insultingly close to Kev’s boots. Kev let himself be spattered to the knees without flinching. He stared down at his oldest brother, waiting for an answer.
Davy straightened, taking his time to shake out stiffened muscles. “It warms me to the cockles of my heart when you coddle him like that.”
Bruno’s jaw dropped, but Kev beat him to it. “Coddle?” Kev snarled. “What the fuck? The kid’s been fighting for his life!”
“That’s just what I mean,” Davy said. “The kid. Poor little Bruno who never had a father.”
“What?” Bruno burst out. “What does my father or lack thereof have to do with anything?”
But both men ignored him, too busy staring each other down.
“That’s not coddling?” Davy asked. “Having a hissy fit when you got Sean’s call? Having a tantrum in Tam’s kitchen? Cutting short your trip to come rushing home for this smart-assed, ungrateful punk?”
Bruno sucked in air. “Who are you calling a punk?”
Still, both men acted like he wasn’t there. Davy stared up out of the hole without even budging his piercing gaze from his brother’s. It looked all the more weirdly bright from his muddaubed face.
Sean slogged up over the rise, looking as happy to be there as all the rest of them. He frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be covering the back slope? We can’t get sloppy. Those fuckers will slaughter us.”
Kev jerked his chin in Davy’s direction. “I’m waiting to hear what his problem is.”
Sean took in Davy’s expression. “Oh, shit. Now?”
“Now,” Kev said.
Day drove his shovel into the ground with the vibe of a vampire hunter planting a stake in the heart of the undead. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last few hours. I have a theory now.”
“Let’s hear it,” Kev said.
Davy arched back, staring at the sky. “When Margot was pregnant with Jeannie, there was this album she played to calm her down when she had morning sickness.”
“Yeah?” Bruno prodded. “And this tender domestic detail is relevant to this situation exactly how?”
“You shut up,” Davy said to him. “I’m not talking to you.”
“Oh,” he muttered. “Sorry! I forgot. I’m just that insignificant, ungrateful, coddled punk.”
Kev gave him a “shut up” arm wave. “Go on,” he commanded.
Davy stripped off muddy gloves, wiped his face with the backs of his hands. “So she’s not pregnant anymore,” he went on. “But whenever she hears that music, she turns green. Even though it was her favorite.”
Kev waited, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Bummer. And? So?”
“So the last time I dug a grave in the woods, it was yours.”
The words hung in the air, like some evil charm, turning them all to stone. They stood, unmoving, as the rain lashed down.
Connor limped out over the rise and gaped at them. “All here? Together? If those bastards corner us in this hole and mow us all down like assholes, we have no one to blame but ourselves.”
No one countered his scold. Connor’s eyes went narrow, wary.
“So what are you doing here?” Bruno asked.
Connor glanced at his watch. “Relieving him.” He indicated Davy. “He’s been at it two full hours. That was the plan, right? Taking turns?”
No one moved. “What the hell is going on?” Connor yelled.
“I’m still waiting for the theory,” Kev said.
“I’m just contemplating the power of association,” Davy said. “Digging a grave, in the woods, in the rain. It was raining then, too. In August. A freak storm. And you, burned to a crisp in a box. I’d just flown back from Iraq to dig your fucking grave.”
“So?” Kev made an impatient gesture. “So what’s your point?”
“No point. It’s just that doing this particular job makes me want to vomit. And kill someone. Not necessarily in that order.”
Kev’s throat worked. The rain pissed ceaselessly down.
Bruno cleared his throat. “And, uh . . . the fact that he’s now, um, alive? Doesn’t that make things, you know . . . better?”
Sean let out a bitter laugh. “That’s just it. It should have made things better. But it doesn’t seem like things have changed that much.”
Kev looked like he was braced for a blow. “Changed from what?”
“From when you were dead,” Sean said.
Bruno bore that silence for about ten seconds. “Uh, I’ll take that rifle and go do guard duty. You talk this private stuff out with your—”
“Shut up, or I’ll rip off both your arms,” Kev snarled.
Bruno winced. “Ah. Yeah. Right. Whatever.”
“See? That’s just what I’m talking about!” Sean pointed at Bruno. “You’re alive to him! You rip his face off all the timeuno
Bruno gaped at him. “And this is a good thing for you? A desirable thing? What are you, a goddamn masochist?”
Kev was too agitated to scold him about mouthing off again. “What the fuck do you guys want from me?” he bellowed.
“I don’t know!” Sean roared back. “I just can’t feel you! I can’t reach you! It’s been too long, I guess. All those years of forgetting about us. Out of sight, out of mind, right? But with you, it’s out of mind, and therefore, out of everything! You no longer give a shit! Mr. Zen! Supercalm! Floating along, no worries! Fucking yay for you, man!”
Kev put the rifle down, walked over, and grabbed the front of his twin’s jacket. “You idiot,” he hissed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then tell me, already!” Sean flung back. “I’d love to hear it!”
Kev shook Sean, a rattling shake that snapped his brother’s head back. “I was brain damaged! Do you get that? Does that sink in to your thick skull? I didn’t do it to hurt your tender little feelings, brother.”
Sean’s fist whipped up, whacked into the underside of Kev’s jaw and sent him reeling back, slipping on one knee into the mud.
“Guess what,” he said. “My feelings aren’t little. Brother.”
Then Kev was airborne, and they were off and at it.
Bruno watched with horrified fascination. Watching Kev in combat was always a spectacle, but those two men were so perfectly matched it was like watching Kev fight himself. One got in a foot jab to the thigh. The other whipped it around, torqueing the leg and sending them both toppling into the pit. The men landed with a muddy splat.
Bruno lunged toward them. Davy and Connor grabbed
him.
“Let them have at it,” Davy said. “They need it.”
Bruno twisted back to stare at them. “How about you guys? Are you all going to need a turn to kick his ass? There’s only one of him.”
Connor and Davy did the is-this-coddled-baby-punk-for-real eye roll. “Shut up,” Connor said again.
Bruno jerked his arms free, jabbed an elbow into Davy’s ribs, got in a kick to Connor’s bad knee. Both men jerked back, looking as startled as if some plastic mannequin had come unexpectedly to life and belted them one. Bruno drew the H&K, aimed it at them. “The next guy who tells me to shut up gets a bullet to the kneecap,” he said. “Clear?”
Davy and Connor exchanged glances. They nodded.
Good. That was settled and about fucking time. Bruno walked to the edge of the pit and stared at the writhing, yelling knot of McCloud twins wallowing at the bottom of it. Dickheads. Maybe they did need this. Too bad. They could beat the crap out of each other in some other mud wallow, if mud wrestling was so therapeutic. They didn’t need to do it on the bones of Mamma’s assassin.
He pointed the H&K at the sky and fired. Bam.
They stopped writhing, staring up at him with identical, shocked looks as the gunshot echoed through the mountains.
“What the fuck?” one of them spat out. Kev, he presumed.
Bruno went for Kev’s trademark steely glare. “You assholes cool it,” he said. “This isn’t the time or place to—oh, fuck me . . .”
The soggy ground gave way under his feet, collapsing, and he slipped and lithered right into the mud wallow, landing with a gloppy splash, his body sliding ’til it was half on top of the other men.
Aw, man. This shit always happened to him when he tried to act authoritative. He spat out mud and addressed Sean. At least, he hoped it was Sean. Who knew with identical mud-men. “Lily told me that you guys were jealous of me. I didn’t believe her. She thought it was funny. Me, jealous of you guys. You guys, jealous of me. What a joke, huh?”
The mud-men looked at each other. One of them twisted around to stare at Davy and Connor, thereby identifying himself as Kev.
Davy and Con stared back, stone-faced. Not denying it, though.
Blood and Fire Page 31