Page 65 of Blue Norther
“Violet.”
“Vi.”
“Goddamn it.”
All three brothers growled some version of opposition at the same time. Beau’s was a little more unbecoming than the other two. But he still wasn’t my biggest fan.
Colt’s hand grasped my elbow as he walked me over to the couch.
“Let me see it.” He held his hand out to Hayes.
“I’m so sorry, Colt. This is all my fault. You were hurt because this person is trying to hurt me,” I blurted out as Hayes brought the picture to Colt.
“Fuck.”
Violet
“Thank you for bringing him home.” I reached out and took the bag from Beau’s hand, turning for the kitchen. “I don’t want to keep you guys. I’m going to put some supper for you on a plate, okay?”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Stop. You brought Colt home. You made sure he was okay. This is the smallest way possible for me to say thanks, but it’s all I have right now.”
Beau nodded. I shuffled around the kitchen, serving two portions of the meatloaf and mashed potatoes I’d made. Securing them with plastic wrap, I handed them both to Beau.
“Make sure Hayes gets one for me, will you?”
“Of course.” Beau cleared his throat. “Call either one of us if you need anything, okay?”
I knew how much that offer must have cost him. He didn’t want to hear from me, and I knew he only made it to help out his brother, but it still meant a lot to me.
“Sure.” Crap. I was starting to lose to the panic threatening to pull me under. I could hear Colt’s voice becoming more animated in the living room, and I knew the discussion was around me and my safety.
I turned away from Beau, grabbing the bag with Colt’s shirt. I opened it, not surprised to find blood on the collar. In the laundry room, I stood on my tiptoes, belly pressed against the washing machine, trying to reach the detergent he kept on a shelf.
The noise of his brothers saying goodbye filtered into the room. I turned the tap on, trying to make sure the water wasn’t too hot, but also not wanting to freeze my hands while I scrubbed the stain out.
I noticed the flap on his chest pocket was open, the button no longer through the loop holding it closed. Not wanting to put loose change or a battery through the wash, I slipped my hand inside the pocket.
A folded piece of paper slipped between my fingers. Probably notes he was taking during the shift, good thing I checked.
I pulled the piece of paper out and set it on the dryer. But my husband’s handwriting wasn’t on it. No. In fact, I didn’t know whose handwriting it was, but the message they were sending to Colt was clear.
SHE’S MINE.
“Hey, what are you doing in here?” Colt stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.
“Did your brothers leave?” I asked, working overtime to keep my voice steady.
“Yeah, after reminding me to check in with them tomorrow about how I was feeling forty-five times. They said thanks again for sending dinner along.”
I ran the collar of his shirt under the water, adding detergent and scrubbing the fabric between my hands. Streams of pink water swirled down the drain and made my stomach churn.
“Vi?”
I sniffed, not turning around to face him. “You should go up to bed. I’m just going to get this in the wash and pick up from supper. Are you hungry? Take a plate up with you, and I’ll be up when I’m done.”
His arms slid under mine, resting in a hug with his hands on my belly. The scratchy stubble from his beard scraped against my cheek as he pressed a kiss there.
