Havoc (Hostiles Sequel) 3/3

He who shan't be mentioned

It would be a stretch to say that Makenna slept, if at all. Her body was awash with emotions she couldn't put names on as hard as she tried, which only made them rage more savagely through her. She had decided instead to make Lachlan a breakfast of his favourites, something so wonderful she wouldn't feel so terrible about what Dionysius Plutarch had done to his face and ribs. Dionysius Plutarch... at least the one she had known and fallen in love with all those years ago, would have been incapable of hurting a fly, would have been faster to negotiate, to listen, to understand. Dionysius Plutarch, the one she'd kicked out of her company, had seemed every inch a feral wolf that wouldn't hesitate to kill whoever stood in his way. She stood in his way... Lachlan stood on his path to her, and her his path to the company. 

As she walked barefoot and in her pyjamas through the pantry, she tried to concentrate instead on why she felt the way she did. The sight of Lachlan on the floor with broken glass around him, the ferocious darkness in Dionysius' eyes, the blood, the fear, the shame, the guilt, the anger. Would he really have killed Lachlan? Beautiful kind Lachlan, dead asleep thanks to the pain medication and exhaustive wounding. In the time she'd been staying here with him she had never once gotten to breakfast before him, and today would be different. Today had to be different. She had to atone somehow for Dionysius Plutarch's ferocity with her own gentleness. She wasn't going to catch any sleep anyway with the way she was feeling, so guilty and ashamed and scared, so unsure anyone she loved was safe from the Dionysius Plutarch with the face of a dark dangerous abyss devoid of any humanity as he attempted to murder Lachlan. That man would hurt her, would hurt anyone and she was angry at herself, for Lachlan's wounds, for endangering him and quite possibly everyone she loved. 

She was angry about the company's employees whose livelihoods were now possibly in danger. She was scared for Eva, Payton, Nadia, Zafira and Marcus. She hadn't even told them how today went, immediately preoccupied with emotions and ensuring Lachlan's safety. Eva had probably told Zafira by now, Nadia was probably too preoccupied with her own drama. Makenna was going to preoccupy herself too; with making breakfast for Lachlan. 

Makenna stares at the platter, deep in thought. She'd managed to make tornado hash browns, a bacon and leek quiche, semolina pancakes and butterscotch sticky buns. The kitchen was fragrant with the smells of all those. She'd cut up some fruit too and sprinkled yoghurt, seed and berries onto the fruit, but there seemed to be something missing from the platter. She added a green smoothie, with avocado and apple, just how he likes it, but still there seemed to be something missing. Flowers? She walks out to the garden, there was some light already and it seemed breakfast hadn't been the worst way to battle insomnia. She was crouching over the lavender and begonias trying to decide what was more suitable when the papers arrived. She had never met the man that brought them, a tall athletic dirty blond with curious green eyes that followed her from the corner, never looking directly at her. She had never met him, had never imagined the newspapers arrived at the house via tall curly haired jacked dudes. Would she have clipped the lavender earlier or been in a matching set of pyjamas if she knew? Would she have put some shoes on?