Page 45 of Delta Mission
I shrugged. “Channing had to drag me here.”
“I’m glad he did.” Talon punched his brother’s arm. His aim was right at the wound on Channing’s bicep that Ghost, the stunning Australian soldier, had patched up with twelve stitches. Channing didn’t give any indication that the punch had hurt, and I wondered if he’d even told his brother about the injury.
At least now Channing had something to distinguish him from his twin.
The kids raced into the room and jumped onto the lap of a small woman on the three-seater sofa. Channing’s kid sister, Charlotte, was barely recognizable from the last time I’d seen her. Beside her was a man whom I assumed was Brad, her husband, and beside him was Rupert, Channing’s father.
Rupert didn’t stand to greet me. And his lawyerly scowl, which made him look eternally unhappy, convinced me not to make a move toward him either.
Channing swept his hand toward his sister. “You remember—”
“Oh, my god. What on earth—”
I spun to the wobbly voice.
Aunt Betty stood in the doorway. Fury and something much more haunting marred her expression.
“Aunt Betty.” Channing strode to her and kissed her cheek. “You remember Makenna.”
Her white hair was set in curls that could only have been done at a salon, and her matching yellow skirt and jacket outfit looked like designer clothes from the sixties. She was immaculate, except for her horrified scowl.
“How could I ever forget?” She clamped her jaw and glared at me like I was a stain on her skirt.
Guilt oozed through me, sharp and hot. I put my wine glass down, ready to hustle out of the room if I needed.
Channing groaned. “It’s been nine years, Aunt Betty.”
“I know how long it’s been, you imbecile.” She backhanded Channing’s chest and pointed a knobby finger at me. “The years don’t blur the disaster you created.”
I wanted to run for the door. But for Channing’s sake, and mine, I needed to have this discussion.
“What’s an imbecile?” Sutton asked her mom.
Betty jutted her chin. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”
“Aunt Betty,” Channing said.
She held a finger in his face. “Shush. I want to hear it from her.” Her tone was edged with pain.
“Hang on a minute,” Channing raised his voice.
“No, you hang on.” Her lips bunched with distaste as she pointed at me. “The mess you caused nearly broke this family.”
A silence fell over the room.
Clutching my hands until my fingers hurt, I swallowed hard and forced my feet to take a step closer to her. “You’re right, Betty. I should have said sorry a long time ago. And I truly am. I never meant to hurt this family, and that’s a mistake I’ve hadto live with, and will continue to live with, for the rest of my life. That mistake nearly ruined me too. But Channing has forgiven me, and that’s all that matters to me. But if you’d allow it, I would truly value your forgiveness too.”
She put her hands on her hips. “But what about what you did at my Henry’s funeral? What about that?”
“I am sorry—”
“She doesn’t owe you an apology for that.” Talon stepped to my side. “I do.”
My jaw dropped as I blinked at Talon.
“I started that fight, Aunt Betty. I was drunk, and it was stupid. It should never have happened, and I’m sorry.”
“I am too,” Channing said, giving me a slight nod.
