Page 117 of Beat of Love
“I apologize,” Rafferty said softly. “It was rude not to ask your permission first. It’s just … I haven’t played in a long time. And when your dad said I could, I guess I couldn’t help myself.” He offered a small, hopeful smile. “Your piano’s beautiful.”
Ti tilted his head thoughtfully. “You played that very well.”
“Thank you. I’m a bit rusty, though.”
A solemn nod. “It helps to practice.”
“That it does,” Rafferty agreed with a small smile.
Aidan cleared his throat. “Time to go, Valentino. I have business to discuss with my brother.”
At that, the wariness crept back into the boy’s eyes. Without a word, he turned and hurried from the room.
Rafferty watched the boy disappear, a flicker of regret tightening his chest. For a moment, he and his nephew had made a connection of sorts.
But now it was gone.
He exhaled slowly, the anger from earlier beginning to stir again, Cooler now, dulled around the edges by the brief, unexpected joy of playing.
He turned back to Aidan and opened his mouth — only to snap it shut as Cecelia entered, balancing a tray in her hands with two steaming mugs resting on top. He sniffed. “Is that what I think it is?”
She grinned. “Gina’s chamomile and lavender blend.”
He gratefully closed his hand around the mug and inhaled the richly scented vapor curling into the air. It had been Charlie’s favorite tea. The lump in his throat rose fast, and he forced himself to meet Cecelia’s gaze. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he said, voice low. “You have every right to hate me.”
Her expression didn’t waver. “I did. For a while.”
Aidan let out a sharp grunt. “Of course. I keep forgetting you two have a history,” he snapped. “More lies.”
“Aidan—” Cecelia began, but he cut her off with a raised hand.
“No. Let me speak.” Aidan drew in a shaky breath, voice tight with fury. “I can get past the undercover work. I can even make peace with the years of bullshit that came with it. But I can’t” — his voice broke, then hardened — “I can’t get past the fact that you left our father on the side of the road todie.”
Rafferty’s hand trembled, sloshing hot tea over the rim and onto his fingers. He didn’t flinch.
Cecelia stepped forward, gently prying the mug from his grip. “Tell him,” she murmured. “Everything.”
Aidan exploded. “More secrets? Seriously?” His glare bounced between them, sharp and disbelieving.
Cecelia reached out and laid a hand on Aidan’s arm, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “You’ve forgiven me for worse. He’s your brother, Aidan. Hear him out, my darling.”
Then, without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out, leaving the silence ringing in her wake.
“I had no choice,” Rafferty whispered.
“No ch—” Aidan began, then stopped himself. He lifted his chin, eyes blazing. “Fine,” he snapped. “Then tell me. Everything.”
Five years ago …
The Escalade loomed behind them — jet black, chrome grilleflashing mean under the morning sun. He didn’t need a second glance to know who it was. He recognized the SUV — had driven one for a while himself. How had they found him? He’d covered his tracks so well. Not well enough, it seemed.
“Son?” Pa interrupted the string of curses blowing through his mind. Or maybe he’d spoken them aloud.
“Pa”— he gritted his teeth — “there’s someone behind us.” The SUV was a powerful vehicle, outrunning them was almost impossible. But he needed his dad to buy them some time. “You need to try and pull away from them.” Rafferty glanced behind him out the rear cab window, no longer surreptitiously using the side mirror to look at them.
Without questioning him — his father likely heard the quiet desperation in his voice — the man who’d taught him to drive accelerated. The engine screeched in protest but gamely lurched once, then steadily gained speed. But Rafferty knew his father’s ranch Chevy, although fairly new, was no match to the powerful engine steadily closing the distance.
“Keep her steady, Pa, and keep your eyes on the road.” His hand slid under the bench seat and came up with the Winchester .308. He pulled it close and laid it across his lap, barrel pointing toward the floorboard.
