“Shame to see that opportunity screwed by your past,” Mac sneered. “At least that’s how I see it. So what’s it to be?”
Looking at Cannon, Armie asked, “Are we done here?”
“Yeah, we are.”
“Now wait a damn minute,” Mac said with a measure of alarm. “We can negotiate—”
“No,” Cannon told him, “we can’t.”
“Wait here,” Armie said in the general direction of Cannon and Rissy. He turned to his dad. “You leaving on your own steam, or am I putting you out?”
Mac didn’t look too keen on being alone with Armie, but he went along anyway. When Rissy started to follow, Cannon caught her arm.
“No, hon, let Armie handle this his way.”
Devastated, Rissy turned to him. “But, my God, Cannon,” she whispered, “his father is awful.”
“Worse than you can imagine.” It worried Cannon, too, but as a man he understood Armie’s need to deal with his father on his own. “I needed you to see him.”
Armie had looked cold and remote, but his sister just looked crushed. Swallowing hard, her gaze on the doorway where Armie had walked away, she whispered, “Why?”
“So you’d really understand who Armie is, where he came from and what he’s up against.”
She sank into a chair. For only a second her eyes got glassy and her lips trembled. Cannon held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t cry.
He should have known better.
Rissy slowly inhaled, pulled herself together and firmed her backbone. “Armie turned out so great.”
Glad his sister wasn’t the weepy sort, Cannon smiled. “Yeah, despite his circumstances. But he doesn’t always believe it.” Angry voices came from the other room, and when Rissy started to rise again, Cannon stayed her with a hand to her shoulder. “It shames him for you to meet his father. Hell, it shames him for me to know the man.”
Rissy clenched her fists. “How do you keep from flattening him?”
“Good or bad, he’s Armie’s father. But yeah, it’s sometimes tempting.” Cannon smoothed her hair. It amused him that she wore Armie’s shirt but had probably forgotten. And that book... Wincing, he decided he wouldn’t think about that too much. “So, hon.”
She looked up at him with eyes so much like his own.
Feeling very much like the protective big brother—a role he loved—Cannon asked, “You and Armie?”
After a peek at the doorway, Rissy said, “I love him.”
Nice to have it confirmed, and for her not to shy away from the truth.
“But,” she added, “if you tell him, I’ll disown you.”
Because that was so funny, Cannon pulled her from her chair and into a bear hug. That’s how Armie found them when he stepped back in.
“Hey.” Armie searched Rissy’s face as she disengaged from Cannon’s hold. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “He’s gone?”
“Yeah.”
Probably not for good, though. Once Mac smelled an opportunity, he’d ruthlessly chase it down. “Did he tell you anything else?” Cannon asked.
“Bunch of lies. You know how he is. Don’t worry about it.” Clearly done with that topic, Armie folded his arms and stared at Rissy. Pretending his father had never shown up, he said, “Now, about you and whatever the hell had the cops at your house yesterday.” He lifted his chin at her. “Let’s hear it.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AFTER TELLING THEM EVERYTHING, twice, his sister stood. “I need to go get dressed for work. I’m now running late.”
“Sure.” Cannon caught her hand. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay?”
She laughed. “Cannon, everyone worries. Allow me my turn.” Bending, she kissed his cheek, and then headed off.
Armie watched her so intently that it made Cannon a little uncomfortable.
The second they heard the bedroom door close, Armie said, “Okay, out with it.”
Pretending he didn’t understand, Cannon finished off his coffee before asking, “What do you mean?”
More than a little wired, Armie gestured at Rissy’s mug on the counter, his kitchen, then his overall apartment. “There’s no way you don’t know, but you haven’t said a word.”
“So?”
“So...” His brows snapped down. “You’re seriously okay with this?”
That depended on what ‘this’ was, but Cannon said only, “My sister’s an intelligent adult. She can make her own decisions.” Cannon loved her enough that he wanted her to have the best. That was Armie.
But if Armie hurt her...
No, Cannon refused to let himself think that. He had to believe Armie would get it together, that he’d once and for all put the past where it belonged and get on with his future—with Rissy.
“There, that.” Armie pointed at him. “What the fuck was that?”
Choking back a laugh, Cannon shook his head. “That was me thinking about the best way to protect her.”
Stark pain shaded Armie’s expression. “I—”
“Not from you, you idiot.” Cannon gave him a shove that got him sitting back in his seat. “In fact, I’ll need your help. Think you can convince her to stay here? To only go home when you or I are with her?”
Confusion masked the pain. “Come again?”
Cannon slid the empty mug away and braced his folded arms on the tabletop. “She’s practically living here anyway, right? I know you want to keep that quiet, to keep her from being the brunt of gossip. And I appreciate that, but it’s far from a secret.” Ignoring Armie’s deer-in-the-headlights expression, he forged on, not giving his friend a chance to react because he might possibly react the wrong way. “I believe her when she says someone was in the house.”
“Yeah.” Recovering, Armie shook off the unfamiliar reserve that didn’t suit his usual balls-to-the-wall persona. “Rissy isn’t a drama queen.”
“No, she isn’t. And she doesn’t go hysterical—not without a damn good reason. If she says someone was in there, you and I are neither one going to ignore it.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Armie agreed. “If she’d told me anything about it, I’d have contacted you last night.”
“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t. She’s independent and with the cops saying they didn’t find anything, she might already be second-guessing herself.”
With another frown, Armie gave it some thought. Making up his mind, he glanced at Cannon. “No problem keeping her here. I mean, I think she wants to stay.”
Cannon barely bit back his grin. Reticence was a weird fit for Armie. “She does. The fact that she’s nuts for you also isn’t a secret.”
Armie said, “Uh...”
Again, Cannon pushed on, not giving him a chance to reply. “I’ll probably go by her place and beef up the security, maybe change the passcode or something. I want to have a look around, too. Much as I trust the cops, no one knows that house as well as Rissy and I do.”
“You grew up there.” Armie scrubbed a hand over his head. “If someone’s screwing around—”