“Shit,” I said, turning to look into the kitchen window.
“She didn’t have a ton of sentimental stuff, but we made sure to wrap anything that could get ruined in transit,” Eph said.
“There’s a reason I hire moving companies when I change domiciles,” Josiah said primly. “Packing sucks.”
“I owe you guys.”
“Nah, she didn’t have much,” Josiah replied. “And since we didn’t move any furniture except the quilting frame, it went pretty fast.”
“The quilting frame was super light, anyway. Didn’t really count as furniture,” Eph pointed out.
“She has a quilting frame?” The idea of my wild Cecilia that could never sit still and was always looking for the next big thing, sitting down in front of a damn quilting frame, made me want to howl with laughter.
“Yeah,” Josiah said, sounding impressed. “It’s actually a pretty decent design, too.”
“Our gran had a wood frame that had been passed down a couple generations—” Eph said.
“But it wasn’t nearly as multi-functional as this one,” Josiah cut in. “Your girl made hers out of PVC pipe, and—”
“Yeah, I bet it’s awesome,” I replied. “We’ve got shit going on here. All good on your end?”
“Roger that. Yep, we’re solid. I’ll let you know if that changes,” Josiah said, once again all business. “I’m not anticipating any problems.”
“Alright. Let one of us know when you get there and where you’re staying.”
“Will do.”
Ephraim’s voice poured into the phone singing On the Road Again, with an exaggerated southern drawl before the sound cut off.
Since I was already outside, I rounded the house and went inside the garage to grab a couple of Cecilia’s bags. I needed a minute of quiet to think. At some point, I was going to need to tell Cec that her shit had been ransacked, but now definitely wasn’t the time. Eventually, though, we’d have to figure out if anything was missing, and she was the only one who could tell us that.
When I got back inside, Cecilia was still sitting, still as a statue in the recliner.
“Hey,” I said, crouching down in front of her. “Why don’t we check out that cut and see if we need to change your bandage?”
She looked over my shoulder at the front door.
“Better to get it done now before she gets here,” I said, pulling her to her feet. “That way you don’t have to put her down later.”
I led her into the bedroom and closed the door behind us.
“It probably doesn’t need checking yet,” I said as I set the bags on the bed and sat down next to them. “But I’m always extra careful. The guys give me shit for it.” I copied Eli’s inflections. “Hey, Chief, better make sure that doesn’t scar your pretty skin.”
Cecilia shot me a brief smile as I pulled her to stand between my knees.
“They’re good guys,” I said as she lifted her shirt, holding it high so I could check out Forrest’s handiwork. “When I got out of the military, I was pretty aimless. Wasn’t sure what I was going to do, you know? Going from the club to the Marines meant I always had my group, always had built-in brothers.” I carefully pulled the tape away from her skin, working my way around the edges of the bandages. “So when the company I’m working for now started headhunting me, offering the same environment but considerably more money, I was pretty stoked about it.”
The cut looked a little angry and red, but nothing I thought we should worry about. I let out a quiet breath of relief. Knife wounds could be gnarly, especially if the knife wasn’t clean. Grabbing a tube of ointment from the bag, I used a piece of gauze to smear it along the wound.
“My first team was alright. Not great, not what I’d been hoping for, but okay. They just didn’t mesh well, too many cooks in the kitchen, if you know what I mean. Forrest was with me on that team, and Eph and Siah for a while. But then a few years back, some shit got switched up and we ended up with a new group—the one we have now.”
Cecilia wasn’t responding, but one of her hands had come to slide gently through my hair.
“There were some growing pains at first,” I said as I pulled more gauze and tape out of the bag. “I didn’t like Eli, and Lu and Josiah butt heads about anything and everything, down to what we eat for dinner. But eventually, things settled into a groove. We got to know each others’ strengths and weaknesses. Shit that bothered us in the beginning started to matter less as we got to know one another. Eventually, our team turned into one of the best—not only because we’re all good at what we do and trust each other, but because we know each other, good and bad, and we naturally pick up the slack if someone’s lacking—if that makes sense.”
She winced as I taped the bandage back on, but didn’t shy away.
“I shouldn’t have trusted anyone outside our circle. It was stupid. But between my team and your family, we have this handled,” I said, looking up into her face as she let her shirt drop back down to her waist. “I promise I won’t let anything else happen to you.”
Her hand came down to cup my cheek, and I sat still as her thumb slid over my cheek and down over the beard at my jaw.
“Why aren’t you talking?” I asked gently. “It’s just me and you in here. You can talk to me.”
She opened her mouth like she was going to answer me, then shut it again, her jaw flexing with frustration.
“Are you hurt?” I asked in confusion, looking down at her mouth.
Chapter 15
Cecilia
Was I hurt? Yes. My ribs throbbed every time I moved and the cut along my side stung and pulled. My cheek and jaw ached every time I made any expression. My mouth felt like raw hamburger from the inside of my cheeks being forced against my teeth. My stomach still churned from being hit, and even water made me nauseous.
I knew what he was asking, though. Was there a physical reason I wasn’t speaking?
No.
I just couldn’t make myself do it. I’d open my mouth to say something, to argue or agree, and I couldn’t. It was as if when I’d trapped all the sounds inside myself, I’d locked the door and lost the key. They were stuck inside my head and every time I tried to let them out, everything just shut down.
I couldn’t fix it no matter how hard I tried. Not even when they’d come up with the plan for Olive to travel separately from me. I hadn’t even been able to tell her goodbye, and that killed me.
“It’ll come back to ya,” Mark said, his hands smoothing over my hips. “Just give it a little time.”
I hoped he was right.
“Sounds like another car is pulling up,” he said. I was swinging open the bedroom door and flying through it before he’d even risen from the bed.
The front door was already open and my dad was standing in it. Beyond him, Forrest was climbing out of his SUV.
“All good?” my dad called, stepping out onto the porch.
“Yep,” Forrest called back.
I slid past my dad and hurried down the steps as Forrest lifted Olive from the box on the passenger seat.