Two Evils by Christina Moore

with the same expression of concern that Teddy and their father had used. Only he studied her with more scrutiny—probably the lawyer in him, she mused.
    She decided to head them off at the pass. “Before you all bombard me with questions, please be assured that I am okay. Not fine. Probably not even a hundred percent yet,” she admitted, knowing they’d accept nothing less than the truth. “But I am getting there, I promise you.”
    Billie glanced at each man in turn, hoping they could see that truth in her eyes. They exchanged looks of silent communication and each nodded. “Now that’s settled, let’s get drunk together!” Kevin exclaimed cheerfully. He jumped up and headed toward the kitchen, presumably to grab the margarita Teddy had promised her they had for her. Her father returned to his armchair and picked up a half-empty bottle of Guinness while Teddy led her over to the couch and gently pushed her down on her ass.
    “Thanks, Ted, but I can sit down on my own,” she quipped lightly.
    “Just making sure you don’t go rabbiting on us again,” Teddy said with a wink as he sat in Kevin’s place on one end of the couch and Andy returned to his seat on the other—she was now stuck between them.
    “Little chance of that when I’m the meat in a Ryan sandwich,” she said, though she couldn’t help grinning as she did so. Billie was glad she’d chosen to come here instead of going to a hotel—being with her family again was already changing her emotional climate. Straightforward but light-hearted banter was a specialty of the normally bawdy Ryan boys when one of the family was in emotional straits; it had always served her well to seek one of them out when she needed a kick in her mental posterior, and she suddenly wondered why she had ever run away from it.
    “To answer your question, Billie Jo,” Andy said after taking a swig of his Budweiser, “We suspected you might be coming home soon after one of your former spook buddies called every single one of us looking for you.”
    She scoffed. “If you’re referring to Agent Courtney, he is not one of my former spook buddies. I never even met the man before yesterday. But speaking of, just because he called to ask if any of you had seen me doesn’t mean I’d be coming back anytime soon.”
    “Let’s just say we hoped,” Thomas said. “It’s been quite a while since we heard from you, Wilhelmina.”
    Billie swallowed and both Teddy and Andy fidgeted in their seats. Her dad only called her Wilhelmina—a name he knew she wasn’t overly fond of—when he was angry with her or worried about her. The expression he now faced her with said he was both. Kevin walked back into the room and paused, then grinned foolishly.
    “Oh shit. Dad pulled out the big W , didn’t he?”
    “Shut up , Kevin, and give me my drink,” Billie muttered, holding her hand out for the clear glass beer stein with the reddish-pink liquid in it. He was still smiling like an idiot as he handed it to her and then took a seat in the chair that had been brought into the room from the dining table.
    “Hey, just be glad he didn’t call you by your full name,” Kevin said, tipping his own bottle of Guinness toward her. “You know he’s about to read you the riot act when he does that.”
    Billie scowled at her brother, restraining the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “Thank you for that reminder of our childhood years, Kevin Alexander Ryan.”
    As the middle child of five, Kevin had taken it on himself to be the family jester, and so he brushed off her use of his given name with a shrug and a shit-eating grin. “You’re welcome, Wilhelmina Josephine Ryan.”
    Thomas, although he tried to maintain a stern visage, gave into the natural humor produced by the antics of his children and shook his head, smiling. Billie relented and smiled herself, then took a welcome sip of her drink. Ah, bliss , she thought, and took another drink before turning to Andy.
    “You drove all