“No. It is a big deal.” Duane was scowling at Billy. “You’ve had a stick shoved so high up your ass all night, I’m surprised you can’t taste it.”
“Now that was funny.” Roscoe lifted his beer toward Duane, then tossed a smile to Sienna. “But your joke was funny, too.”
“No, no. Duane’s was funnier.” Sienna tipped her wine toward Roscoe, then nodded to Duane. “I might have to steal it.”
“Thieving one of your hobbies?” Billy mumbled. More precisely, he said it loudly enough to be heard, but gave it the appearance of being mumbled in a world-class show of passive-aggressive antagonism.
Having reached my limit, I stepped away from Ashley and crossed to Billy, motioning for him to rise. “Okay, that’s it. William Shakespeare Winston, get up.”
“What?” he snapped, glaring at me.
“You heard me. You’ve got a problem with me. Not gentlemanly of you to be taking it out on Sienna. Don’t take your frustration out on her. We all know you’ve got a problem with me, but that’s no call for you to treat a guest with disrespect.”
Billy stood abruptly, his eyes flashing with the fire of hatred. “What the fuck do you know about respect?”
I set my jaw. I thought I’d eventually grow accustomed to the hollow ache settling in my stomach. Although I was used to his sporadic hateful outbursts, they never got easier. If it had just been us, just the family, I wouldn’t have said anything. Billy had every right to be pissed at me, for the rest of our lives if he so chose. But I wasn’t going to have him make Sienna feel unwelcome or uncomfortable. Not in my house, not anywhere.
His eyes, so like my father’s, pierced into me—through me—cutting and full of loathing. His lips parted, and he bared his teeth like he was fixing to volley another spiteful remark.
“Billy, please don’t.” At Ashley’s soft reproach, his mouth snapped shut, his gaze darting to our sister, then away.
Pulling a hand through his hair, he muttered a quiet curse; it sounded like fucking bastard. He swallowed. Then he turned and walked off the deck without another word.
Gloom fell over the previously merry group. I hadn’t seen Billy this angry in a while. He normally held back, especially in front of company, but not tonight. I wanted to apologize. But Cletus had told me after the first year he was tired of hearing me say I’m sorry. I’d taken to showing my family with my actions, knowing I needed to prove not just that I’d changed, but that I’d wanted to.
Beau was the one to break the silence. “Sorry about that, Sienna. Billy isn’t usually friendly, but he’s not usually an asshole, either.”
“No, no. It’s fine. I have a large family. We don’t all get along all the time.” I felt her eyes on me and I knew I would need to explain more about my past mistakes sooner rather than later.
“How large is this family?” Cletus asked.
Followed quickly by Roscoe, “And do you have any single sisters?”
Which of course made everyone laugh, because everyone wanted to laugh. They didn’t want any more cumbersome drama. We’d already been through enough drama this year.
Ashley stepped next to me while Sienna answered Roscoe’s question; my sister nudged me with her shoulder. “Go after him.”
I grimaced. Remorse, now so familiar I considered it a friend, tightened around my lungs in a vise-like grip. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged, nudging me again. “But Billy once told me, ‘Apathy between family members makes the blood they share turn to water.’” She paused, allowing me a minute to think on these words, then pressed, “Billy may have several colorful feelings regarding your person, Jethro, but none of those are akin to apathy.”
This made me smirk. “You sound like Momma.”
“Thank you. I take that as the highest of compliments. Now stop trying to distract me and go speak to your brother.”
A low chuckle had both Ash and me twisting around, searching for the origin. Drew stood just behind us, his eyes on his boots, but he wore a rare smile.
“What?” Ashley demanded, narrowing her eyes.
He shrugged, his stare lifting to my sister. “It’s just, Jethro’s right.” My boss’s eyes moved over Ashley’s face with a fathomless well of affection and devotion. “You do sound like your momma, just less subtle and a good deal more autocratic.”
She considered him for a long moment, then unexpectedly wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on the game warden that was not fit for polite company.