Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(25)

Mac rubbed his face. “We need to talk.”

“You bet we do.” Grant walked closer, his blue eyes full of frustration.

Mac held up a hand in surrender. “I got in late, and it’s not even dawn. I need a shower and some coffee before I’m up for any damned sharing session.”

Stopping, Grant gave him a serious nod. “All right. But you’d better hurry. Hannah’s in the kitchen, and she’s pissed.”

“Shit.” Mac’s sister was much scarier than his brother.

Grant’s gaze swept over his torso. Concern tightened his mouth. “Do you need help?”

“Plastic wrap.”

“Got it.” Grant was back in a minute.

Having his brother wrap him in plastic took all the fun out of the process, but Grant did a thorough job before retreating to the kitchen.

Mac stepped into the shower. The blast of cold water cleared his head and soothed the new bruises that mottled his chest and ribs, courtesy of the accident the night before.

As he dried off, he geared up to face his siblings. Then he stepped into a pair of jeans and reached for a T-shirt. The local anesthetic was still going strong, but his stitches pulled under the bandage. His entire torso had stiffened during the night. He took care putting his arms into the sleeves and headed for the kitchen. The smell of coffee perked him up even more.

Grant leaned against the kitchen counter. But it was the sight of Hannah sitting at the table, her hands folded neatly in front of her, that drew Mac up short. The former corporate attorney pinned him with her boardroom face.

Feigning indifference, Mac said in a flippant voice. “What is this, an intervention?”

Hannah leaned forward. Her sense of humor wasn’t up yet. “Do you need an intervention?”

Walked right into that one.

“I didn’t even know I had coffee.” Mac poured a huge mug and sipped, welcoming the burn as he swallowed. Last night he’d decided to tell his family everything, but in the harsh kitchen light, the truth didn’t seem so appealing. They were going to be angry.

“Look, Mac,” Grant started. “We care about you. Your behavior has been growing more erratic over the past few years.” His voice grew rough. “None of us have recovered from Lee’s death, and last night was hard. Really hard.” He breathed. “But we’re not going to let you walk away this time.”

“No one will understand what you’re going through better than us.” Hannah gestured between the three of them.

“We’re here for you,” said Grant.

“Whether you like it or not.” Hannah paused. “We don’t want you to get so overwhelmed that you—”

“It’s been more than a decade. Eventually, you both have to trust me.” Irritation flared in Mac.

But had he ever given them reason to have faith? He’d kept his entire life a secret. Trust went both ways.

Hannah raised a single brow. “I was going to say hop on the next flight to South America.”

“Oh.” Mac went back to his coffee. “Sorry. I guess I’m defensive.”

“We all need to try harder.” Grant raised his hands. “We haven’t communicated well in a long time, but I remember when we operated like a junior commando team. We could practically read each other’s thoughts.”

“That was a long time ago, Grant.” But deep inside, Mac longed for the connection he’d once had with his siblings.

“Where’s your Jeep?” Hannah asked.

Mac scalded his throat with another gulp. “I crashed it into a tree last night.”

Hannah straightened. “Do you need my help?”

“No.” Mac shook his head. “It’s not like that. I wasn’t under the influence of anything. I swear.”

Hannah’s response was uncharacteristically gentle. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

He glanced from his sister to his brother. Exhaustion lined both their faces. Less than twelve hours ago, they’d watched their father die, and they’d likely spent the rest of the night frantic about Mac. The last year had been hell on all of them. While the Colonel’s death was difficult, none of them had fully recovered from Lee’s murder. It was their brother’s murder they were all still processing.

Guilt and grief rocked Mac. Hannah and Grant had suffered enough. No more adding to their pain. He owed them the truth.

“I work for the DEA.” Mac gave them the same speech he’d given Stella the night before.

“How long?” Hannah asked.

“The last three years,” Mac admitted.

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or pissed off,” Grant said.

“I’m both.” Hannah leaned back in her chair and tapped a finger on her chin. “Why all the lies?”

“Undercover assignments are dangerous. More lives than mine depend on complete secrecy.” Mac sighed.

“I’m insulted you didn’t trust us,” she said.

Mac nodded. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that simple.” Grant dropped into a chair. Both hands scrubbed down his face. “I went on plenty of missions I couldn’t share with either of you.” His blue eyes pierced Mac like twin bayonets. “Why are you telling us now?”