Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)(96)

“I mean, other than the coming face-to-face with her father, her plan is solid.”

“Fuck the plan!” I stopped myself before I cleared the desk of my laptop, phone, the vase, and the lamp just so I could hear the noise of destruction.

“No. The plan is good. And it saves you from going to jail, which—”

I advanced on my brother, my hands balling into fists. “I don’t care about going to jail, Cletus. I did what I did and I’m not sorry for it and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let Scarlet put herself through the horror of facing her father just to protect me.”

“Oh? You mean like how you put yourself through the horror of facing her father just to protect her?”

I glared at him. “That was different.”

“And why was it different?”

“Because—” I couldn’t focus on my brother through the red clouding my vision. How could she do this? Why would she put herself through this?

“I reckon she did it because she loves you,” Cletus said, and I realized I’d spoken at least one of my questions out loud.

“She lied to me. She said she was going to Nashville to perform at a concert.”

Cletus shook his head before I’d finished my sentence. “She did not lie to you. She is going to Nashville to perform at that concert. It’s tomorrow.”

“You know what I mean. She misled me.”

“Yep. Probably because she knew you’d try to stop her.”

“Damn right I’d try to stop her. I would’ve turned myself in. I would’ve—”

“Gone to jail,” he finished for me. “And then she’d be visiting you weekly instead of visiting her father just the one time. That sounds like such a nice future for y’all. I can’t imagine why she took matters—and her happiness—into her own hands like she did. How selfish.”

My fists on my hips, I scowled at my brother and his nonsense. As I scowled and as he met my heated stare straight on, his words penetrated the rage barrier around my brain.

Reluctantly, I ceded he had a point. But I couldn’t wholly accept his argument.

On a visceral level, the thought of Scarlet seeing her father again sickened and enraged me. The mere idea was abhorrent to every part of my being. Even as I sparred with my brother, I grappled to keep a grip on the violent intensity of my seething wrath.

I hated the man. I’d been the one who’d cut his hands, not Scarlet. And I hadn’t regretted the decision, I hadn’t repented or felt an ounce of contrition about it until just now, now that she would pay the price.

“If she gets caught lying for me, we’ll both go to jail,” I pointed out the obvious, fear and anger coating my throat. Just the thought of her in prison, suffering for my act of vengeance, I’d go crazy.

“Then don’t get caught,” he said, like it was so simple.

I looked at my brother. And then I looked at my brother, realizing he didn’t seem at all anxious anymore. In fact, he almost looked pleased with himself if you didn’t factor the stern line of his mouth and the slight shade of sorrow behind his eyes.

Facing me fully, he shrugged like he was tired. “I understand your anger and I hate that she had to do it.”

“She already did it?”

He nodded.

Anguish filled my lungs like a leaden weight, an ache sinking down to my stomach. The need to be with her, to comforter her right now, abruptly overshadowed my frustration.

“If there’d been any way to do this without sending Scarlet into battle,” he continued, “I would’ve. But she was desperate to do something. Since she was so adamant, I thought it was better to help than hinder. No reason to make it harder on her.”

“You could’ve stalled her, told me what she had planned.”

“No. I don’t think so.” His eyes twinkled, but the line of his mouth remained stern. “I know this might be a hard pill to swallow—because it was for me—but you don’t get to wear the cape all the time. In some instances, you’re the rescuer. Other times, you’re the rescuee. That’s how it works. And you can stay here, simmering in your sour stew at not being the hero this time, or you can take Sienna’s plane back to Nashville and thank your woman for saving your ass.”

“I can’t though, can I? After what she just put herself through, she needs me right now. She’s got to be going through hell, facing Razor. But if I fly out there and we’re seen together, it’ll undermine her credibility.”

“You’re right. She does need you, so go to her. Sneak in, sneak out. Again, just don’t get caught.”

“‘Just don’t get caught,’ huh? Like it’s so easy.”

“It is easy, Billy. Do you know how many times I’ve broken the law and not gotten caught?”

“I don’t want to kn—”

“More than a lot. If I can do it more than a lot, you can do it once.”

“It’s not just that, Cletus.” Here we go again. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I don’t want us to be a secret.”

“Compromise a little, Billy. My contact at the FBI thinks once they close the investigation, it’ll definitely stay closed even when you two go public. We’re talking one week, two weeks tops of being circumspect, and most of that time will be when y’all go to Rome. No one in Rome cares about a Tennessee congressman and a country music star canoodling over fettuccine. And, not only did Scarlet do one hell of a job, the FBI wasn’t all that interested in investigating you to begin with. You think anybody cares about getting justice for Razor Dennings by putting the man who caught him in jail? No. Justice might be blind, but it ain’t that blind.” Pulling his hand from his pocket, he checked the watch on his wrist. “Oh. Time’s up. If you want to be a comfort to your woman, you gotta go. No need to pack a bag, I’m sure your fairy-suit-father will have something for you in Nashville upon arrival.”