Page 84 of Keeping Kasey
Despite her initial protest, she only glares as she wraps her arms around my neck.
I kick the door shut and carry her up the stairs to the manor. The double doors are open, and my brothers stand at the entrance waiting for us.
“I need my bags,” Kasey protests.
“I’ll come back for them.”
“You mean you’ll have someone else get them.”
I kiss her temple. “Exactly.”
As we reach the entrance to the manor, Kane comes racing outside to meet us. Kasey twists in my arms, and I gently set her down just as the dog reaches us. She drops to his level with a wide smile as she pets him.
“Hey, boy. I missed you,” she says, and when she stands, I’m there to help her.
She shoots me the same look she’s been giving me all day—the one that says she’s fine and doesn’t need my help.
It’s a look I’ve been ignoring.
Besides, the arguments are half-hearted. If Kasey really didn’t want me taking care of her, she’d put up one hell of a fight.
“Theone timeI’m not with you, you go and get attacked,” Damon chides.
“It wasn’t exactly my intention.”
“Well, it won’t be happening again,” he says, stepping up to hug her.
Kasey’s stiffness melts into a reluctant acceptance as she returns the hug, and while it’s amusing in itself, I’m not fond of anyone else touching her—my brother included. The second she pulls away, I weave my fingers with hers and tug her into my side.
“Have someone bring the bags up,” I say.
Damon walks past us with a shake of his head. “No need. I’ll bring them up.”
James and I share a look.
Sobriety suits Damon.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” James tells Kasey, and I appreciate that he doesn’t try to hug her.
“Thanks,” Kasey says, then gestures to Kane. “And thank you for taking care of Kane while I’ve been away.”
“I think he’s starting to like me more than you,” he says, patting the dog’s head.
When Kasey snaps her fingers, Kane darts to her side, looking up at her with wide eyes and a wagging tail.
“I don’t think I have to worry about that,” she says with a triumphant smile.
Ten minutes later, when Kasey is settled in her room, I meet Damon and James in my office.
I don’t spend much time here—I prefer to work from the base—but for conversations like this, even the living room feels too public.
The three of us fall into the chairs around the low coffee table. I chug a bottle of water, but I’d kill for a glass of whiskey.
I relay everything I know about the attack to my brothers, and we all take a moment to process it.
“Brandon had to be an absolute idiot,” James says, shaking his head.
“Lucky, too. If Kasey hadn’t killed him, I would’ve made that bastard suffer for touching her,” I grate out.
