Page 12 of Beat of Love
The man leaned over the table. “Not sure what game you’re playin’ by comin’ back, but remember, I’m watchin’ your every move. You step out of line, you’re gone. You cause further hurt to Ma and Pa, you’re gone. And do not eventhinkof bringing your fucking shit onto the ranch. If I catch you using drugs, or see you high,even once, I will personally kick your sorry ass off this land. Got me?”
“Loud and clear,” he whispered, his throat clogged.
Aidan barked a derisive laugh. “And don’t think you can gain my sympathy with your pathetic sorrowful act. It’s clear that not once,not even once,” he repeated, slamming the chair into the table again, “did you consider the ramifications of your actions. You showed no mind to the people who loved you.” Another wild laugh. “Rafferty Lawson, just plowin’ ahead, regardless of the wake of hurt behind you. Every bad thing that happened to you,brother, you brought on with your foolish and selfish actions.”
Sullivan burst into the kitchen. “What the hell, Aidan?” he snapped, stalking across the floor.
Aidan straightened, turning to look at Sullivan. “You know that every word is true. We’re expected to forget the pain he’s caused, and fall on our knees grateful—
Sullivan shoved Aidan’s chest. “Shut the fuck up.”
“What?” Aidan shoved back. “You siding with him now? A year ago, you sat right here, around this very table, and told us you were takin’ off after Marielle, that you were done worryin’ about Rafferty and his shit. Now he’s back, and all’s hunky-dory. Like hell. His return is openin’ Ma and Pa to more hurt. That’s what it’s doin’. Worse, he brought thatwomanwith him. We all know she’s only here for the money and—”
“Leave Esther out of your beef with me!” Rafferty shoved to his feet. “I know I fucked up and I’m here to make amends, but Essie—”
“Amends,” Aidan scoffed. “The harm you caused is permanent,brother. Not a thousand apologies can right what you broke. Nothin’ will get Pa on his feet again. Nothin’ will bring my wife’s sister back from the dead. You taint everythin’ you touch.”
Each word cut into him, scalpel sharp. “I know,” he croaked.
“Gah. Spare me your self-pity act. It’s sickenin’. Soon enough, you’ll show your true colors. Far’s I’m concerned, the sooner that happens, the sooner I can kick your ass off this land.”
“Aidan,” Sullivan reprimanded.
“Enough!” Pa thundered, wheeling across the kitchen. He stopped in front of Aidan and glared at him. “Don’t make me ashamed of you, son. Your brother has been restored to us, and we will pull together,as a family, and help him get better.”
“Pa—”
Pa held up his hand. “Keep quiet. You gotta get your head outta your ass, son. And Aidan, tomorrow you will show nothin’but welcome toward Esther, and you will curtail your animosity toward your brother. If nothin’ else, show your children it’s okay to mess up. That they’ll always find sanctuary on this land. Show them that family sticks together, no matter what. Understood?”
“Pa …” Aidan exhaled a beleaguered breath.
Rafferty clenched his hands, resisting the urge to scratch his itching skin.
“You get me, son?”
Aidan clenched his jaw. “Yes, sir,” he ground out.
Pa narrowed his eyes and held Aidan’s stare. “I hope you mean that, Aidan.”
Rafferty ran his palm over his mouth, wiping at the perspiration beading around his lips.
“I’m lookin’ for your ma. Any idea where she is, boys?”
Both he and Sullivan shook their heads.
“Cemetery,” Aidan replied. “Saw her walkin’ in that direction when I pulled up.”
Pa pursed his lips, nodding. “Makes sense.” His gaze moved between his sons. “Sort yourselves out. Your ma needs me.”
In silence they watched their father guide his chair out the side doors and down the ramp.
“I get you’re angry with me, Aidan,” Rafferty bit out, clutching the table to hide the tremors. There was no way he was showing weakness in front of the man. “Fuck, I’m angry with me. I have done a lot of harm to the people I love. But Esther … she’s done nothing wrong. She’s had a tough life and is wary about meeting y’all, so treat her with care.”
“Whatever,” Aidan retorted, and stormed from the kitchen.
Rafferty sank onto the chair and remorsefully stared at the new puddle of coffee surrounding the mug. “He really hates me,” he muttered, lifting the mug. But his hand shook violently, and more coffee splashed onto the table. “Fuck,” he muttered, setting it down.
“He’ll come around,” Sullivan murmured.
