Devil's Bargain

by Natasha Knight

  James tugs on Declan’s sleeve. “Better get this boy some chocolate cake, Mary.”

  “Come with me, little man, and you can slice your own,” Mary says, and I’m left alone with Declan.

  Declan places a hand at my lower back, and we walk to a table. I hear Hawk’s warning of last night. That I don’t know what his brother is capable of. But when I look at Declan, it’s not danger I sense. Actually, it’s a similar sadness to what I see in Hawk.

  They’re more alike than Hawk realizes.

  “Declan, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “When you said Hawk was changing things, did you mean you and James won’t be able to live at the house anymore?”

  He nods and I see the worry in his eyes when his gaze shifts momentarily to his son.

  “Does he know you want to stay? He won’t kick you out. Why would he?”

  “You don’t understand our past, Melissa.”

  “When he goes back to Las Vegas—”

  “Do you think he’ll go back?” Declan asks it like it’s a question, but I think he’s trying to tell me Hawk will be staying.

  I look at him. I just assumed…

  “This is home to him. To all of us. Being a Highlander, you’re tied to this land. This wild, unforgiving country. No place is home but Scotland no matter how long you’re away.”

  “This is my home now.”

  I remember when Hawk said that a while back about Las Vegas and even then, I didn’t believe it for a second. Maybe Declan’s right.

  “All right now, James,” Mary says, and we look up to see the two of them return with three giant hunks of cake, setting one in front of each of us.

  “Can you eat all that?” I ask James.

  He nods, enthusiastically digging in.

  Declan breaks off a piece with his fork. “You’ll understand why when you taste it.”

  I smile and am about to take a bite of my own slice when I hear the door open and feel the cool wind it blows in.

  Declan’s expression changes immediately and my back suddenly goes rigid.

  I hear Mary’s surprised gasp and I don’t have to turn to know who it is.

  I feel him. I always feel him.

  “Uncle Hawk! You came!” James yells happily, oblivious to the tension.

  I look up to find Hawk towering over us, eyes locked on Declan who sits back, puts the bite of cake into his own mouth and gives him a mocking grin.

  “Welcome, brother,” he says around the food.

  Hawk turns to me and I think I’d wither if it wasn’t for James’ excitement.

  “Uncle Hawk, you should try this cake. It’s the best ever, I mean it. You can try a bite of my dad’s.”

  Hawk walks around me to take the seat next to mine and looks at his nephew.

  “Nice glasses, James,” he says. “You look very handsome.”

  “Thank you,” James says proudly.

  “And I’d rather try a bite of yours,” Hawk says.

  James hugs his cake closer.

  I see Hawk’s smile.

  “Double espresso,” he tells Mary when she comes to the table.

  She studies him with raised eyebrows. “Well, hello to you, Hawk.”

  Hawk looks up at the woman, maybe surprised by her reprimand.

  “Hello, Mary. Good to see you,” he says.

  “Same.” She smiles. “How about a plain-old coffee, Mr. Fancy with your espresso,” she makes a face as she says the last word and even Hawk has to smile.

  “Coffee’s fine, Mary. Thank you.”

  She lingers. “You’ve grown, Hawk. Changed.”

  “Thirteen years will do that to you.”

  She nods. “Well, it’s good to see you’ve returned home.” She pats his back. “I’ll get you a slice of cake with your coffee. I remember you used to love it.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  She looks between the brothers and walks away.

  Hawk takes us in. “Cozy.”

  Declan smiles and puts another bite of cake into his mouth.

  Hawk turns to me, wraps a possessive hand around the back of my neck. “You and I will have a talk when we’re home.”

  I feel Declan’s eyes on me. Feel my face heat up.

  Before I need to respond, though, Mary returns with Hawk’s coffee and cake.

  “James, go get us some whipped cream,” Declan says, never taking his eyes off his brother.

  “Really?” James bounces excitedly out of his seat in an instant.

  “I figure you have something to say,” Declan tells Hawk as soon as James is out of earshot.

  Hawk leans toward him. “You’re not stealing from me again. I’ll kill you before I let that happen.”

  Declan leans forward and all I can think is how flimsy the table between them is.

  “That’s twice you’ve told me you’ll kill me. Do I look worried to you?”

  “Where’s the boy’s mother?” Hawk asks. “Ran for the hills when she got to know you?”

  Declan’s eyes darken. He sits back in his chair and puts his fork down. “Sarah passed away two years ago. Doctors found the tumor days after James’ birth.”

  I cover my mouth in surprise and glance to Hawk to see he’s shaken too.

  “Not what you expected?” Declan asks.

  Hawk looks down at his plate, rubs his forehead.

  “Fuck.” He looks up at Declan. “That was—”

  “Cold?” Declan inserts. “Unfeeling? Cruel?”

  Hawk takes a deep breath in, nods. “All of those and more. I’m sorry for your loss. And for what I said.”

  Declan nods too, any accusation vanished, only weight left behind, the weight of a heavy loss. “So am I,” he says.

  James returns with Mary behind him holding on to the bowl of whipped cream.

  “It’s even better with cream,” he says.

  “I bet,” Hawk says, looking at James, really looking at him and giving him a smile. He heaps a generous spoonful onto James’ cake, then mine, then his own.

  Declan pushes his plate forward and Hawk scoops some on his too. We sit there eating cake and drinking tea and coffee in awkward silence but for James interjecting his thoughts on this, that and pretty much everything.

  When we’re finished, Declan and James stand. “You’ll want to take Melissa home I assume?”

  Hawk nods.

  With a quick goodbye, Hawk and I are alone, and he turns to me.

  “You’re a jerk to him, you know that?” I say.

  “You don’t know anything about us.”

  “I know a little now. And if you’re planning on kicking them out of their house—”

  “It’s not their house. It’s my house.”

  I shake my head. “If you’re planning on kicking them out, then you were right last night.”

  “Right about what?”

  “That you’re not a good man.”

  Hawk’s face tightens. “Did my brother put you up to this?”

  “No, he didn’t put me up to anything. He just lost both parents and he’s a widowed father worried about his son.”

  Hawk stabs his cake with his fork, breaks it apart, and when he turns to me, I see that weight of sadness in his eyes too.

  “Just think about it,” I say. “There’s James to consider.”

  “I thought it’d be easier,” Hawk says, looking beyond me.

  I reach up, touch his face. I want to tell him I understand. I want to tell him to keep talking, but then he looks down at the sleeve of my borrowed jacket and his eyes narrow dangerously.

  “You have his scent on you,” he says, his voice hard.

  “He lent me his jacket. I didn’t have one.”

  “I’m sure he did. He’s marking territory.

  “No, he’s not. He’s just being nice.”

  He chuckles. “Oh, Melissa, you are so naïve.” He stands, pulls my chair out. “Take it off,” he orders.

  I get to my feet an
d before I can protest, he takes it off me himself. I try not to look at the other patrons in the restaurant. Try to pretend they’re not watching.

  He puts his own jacket over my shoulders before taking my arm and walking me out, carrying my shopping bag and Declan’s coat, refusing to put it on even in the rain that’s falling once again.

  28

  Hawk

  “Why did you bring me here?” she asks when we’re in the car. “I thought you needed me, but you just seem really pissed off with me every time you see me.”

  “I’m not pissed off with you. Being back here is harder than I thought it would be. That’s all.”

  “Then let me help you.”

  I turn to her. “Stay away from my brother. That’ll help me.”

  “You’re wrong about him. He’s really just being nice.”

  “What did he tell you about me?”

  She looks straight ahead as we drive. “He told me about your parents and Ann.”

  I snort. “What did he say? Paint her to be a saint?”

  “No, actually, he didn’t. He told me about the affair and finding out he was your brother by blood. And he told me how much influence his mother had over your father. He gave the impression she was unfaithful, and you tried to protect your father and that it backfired.”

  I’m silent for a moment because it’s the truth. And I guess I didn’t expect Declan to tell the truth. Or maybe that his version would be different than mine.

  That’s twice in one day now that I’m surprised. Caught off guard.

  First, it was my grandfather this morning giving me the one thing my father did leave me. I feel the weight of it in my pocket and it deepens my already heavy sense of loss. And now this. Now Declan telling her the truth about what happened. Declan knowing it.

  “And I get the impression no one seems particularly bothered that his mother died too, along with your father,” she continues, and I’m grateful to be drawn from my thoughts.

  “She wasn’t a nice person,” I say.

  “Still, she was his mother. I’m sure that’s painful for him.”

  “Don’t worry about Declan. He’ll be fine. Always is.”

  We get to the bridge that connects the small island upon which the house is situated to the mainland and I see how Melissa sits up.

  “It’s safe. I wouldn’t take you over it if it weren’t.”

  I park the SUV and climb out. “Wait here,” I tell her, getting the boots I saw she’d bought out of the trunk. “Put these on.”

  “Why? It’s just a short walk to the house.”

  “We’re not going into the house.”

  I wait for her to put on the new boots and take her arm to walk her around and behind the house. Two of the dogs follow us part of the way as we make our way through the moist fields and I try to ignore the rain soaking my sweater.

  It’s about ten minutes before I hear the sound of the sea. It grows louder as we climb over several hills and get to the cliffs. I stop when we do because even in this rain, I can’t not stop. I can’t not look at this.

  Melissa hugs her free arm around herself and I watch her take in the view. The vast gray sea, the wild waves in the constant wind.

  “This is unbelievable.”

  “It’s the most beautiful place on earth.”

  She turns to me. “How did you leave it?”

  Her question reminds me why we’re here and I tug her along, walking fast, catching her when she trips on the jagged rocks. A few moments later, we’re inside a small opening in the cliffs, sheltered from the rain but with a view of all of it.

  But it’s not that I look at. It’s her.

  I think about what I felt when Alice told me the three of them had gone into town. How James had been so sweet holding her hand. I think about how they were together, cozy in the bakery. A ready-made family.

  Melissa turns to me and her smile vanishes. I’m not sure she’s aware that she’s taken a step away from me.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  She puts her hands against my chest when I step toward her, walk her backward to the wall.

  “I don’t want you to go anywhere with him again.”

  “What?”

  I unzip my too-big jacket that she’s wearing and open it, unbutton her sweater and open that too, then take her breasts out of the cups of the bra, tucking them underneath the heavy mounds. I cup them, weigh them. Knead the nipples into hard points.

  “What are you doing?”

  I meet her eyes and keep them locked as I unbutton her jeans, unzip them and tug them down to mid-thigh.

  I look at her like this and it’s almost pornographic, her half-dressed, half-naked. My gaze slides from her eyes to her lips to her breasts and finally, to the slit of her sex. With a hand at the back of her head, I pull her to me, kiss her.

  “You’re mine, Melissa. Mine. This mouth, it’s mine,” I say, crushing my lips to hers, sliding my hands to her breasts again, taking them in my palms. “These breasts are mine. This pussy,” I start, lowering one hand to cup it while with the other, I undo my jeans, push them down only as far as I need to.

  “Hawk—”

  “This pussy,” I say, bending at the knees to get underneath her and thrust hard into her.

  She gasps, nails digging into my shoulders.

  “This pussy is mine,” I say against her mouth, pumping into her once, twice before pulling out.

  I take her by a handful of hair and spin her around so the side of her face is at the cave wall and with my other hand, I finger her pussy and drag the moisture there to her back hole.

  Because that’s mine too. And it’s time I claimed it.

  “Every part of you is mine,” I say, bending my knees again, pushing against the tight hole. “You belong to me, Melissa.”

  I rub against her, using my fingers to collect more of the moisture, rub it into her. I tug on her hair and she watches when I spit into the palm of my hand and rub my dick.

  “Mine. Not his. Not anyone’s.”

  When I take her clit between my fingers, it’s like pushing a magic button because her muscles relax, and I push the head of my cock into her ass and it’s tight and hot and all mine. All fucking mine.

  “Hawk,” she starts, gasping for breath.

  “And when you see him again, you’ll feel me inside you. You’ll remember me inside you. You’ll remember you belong to me.”

  The last part I say as I thrust deeply and thoroughly.

  Her head is bent backward, and I kiss her mouth, her throat, bite the curve of her neck.

  “Hawk,” she starts, almost panting, and I hug her to me, fucking her harder, faster. She fists her hands against the wall and when she comes, she calls out my name again.

  I thrust once more, deep and hard, and as I feel her throb around me, I come too, and it’s with a roar that’s more animal than human.

  Because I am an animal and I’m staking my claim when I empty inside her.

  Melissa is mine.

  All fucking mine.

  29

  Melissa

  My knees give out and he holds me up as he slides out of me. He pulls up his jeans first, then tugs mine up because I can’t seem to move. He’s rougher than he needs to be, and I feel his breath at my cheek.

  I turn to look at him and I think about what he said. About being his. Belonging to him. And it feels like this is different than our strange arrangement.

  “When I went to my father with my allegations against Ann, I was naïve,” he starts, surprising me with this.

  He walks away, sits on a stone.

  I remain where I am and watch him even though he keeps his gaze outside.

  “I should have waited to have solid proof although who knows what he’d have done even with that. He was so completely in love with her and she just had him wrapped around her manipulative little finger. She made him choose. Me or her. It couldn’t be both. And my father chose. And then I chose. I don’t think he expected me to le
ave.”

  He’s quiet, but he’s not finished.

  “I vowed vengeance. It was all I could think of.”

  I go to sit beside him. “Hawk—”

  He shakes his head to quiet me.

  “The distillery is the main income generator of the estate. It’s been privately held within the family for more than four-hundred years. But Ann convinced my father to go public. When he did, I saw my opportunity. I bought shares. I had others buy shares and bought them back. It took me years, but I now own fifty-one percent of MacLeod Distillery. And I’ve been driving it into the ground since I started. The more money they sank into it, the more they lost. I made sure of that.”

  “Oh, Hawk.” I touch his face, push his hair back and make him look at me.

  “You see, Melissa, this is what I’m capable of. So you’re wrong. I’m not a good man.”

  “You were hurt.”

  He shakes his head, gives a sad little smile. “He tried to make contact with me over the years, but I never allowed it. Ignored his calls until he stopped calling.”

  He looks away again.

  “And what did I care about Ann? What pleasure would it give me for her to see that her son would inherit nothing but debt? But none of that matters because they’re both dead now. My father is gone. It’s too late for anything.”

  “It’s not too late,” I say, taking one of his hands between mine. “There’s your brother, your nephew. Your grandfather.”

  He doesn’t reply or even acknowledge that he heard me at all.

  “I know every inch of these cliffs, you know. Grew up playing in the wild. Never thought I’d lose it all,” he pauses. “I don’t want to lose it again.”

  I think about what Declan said about Scotland being in his blood. In Hawk’s. And I realize something.

  “You’re staying, aren’t you?”

  30

  Melissa

  I’m alone when I wake up the next morning.

  He never did answer my question yesterday. And I can’t stop thinking about the cave. The way he took me, it was different than any time before. Like an animal marking his territory, this was him marking me.

  But what he said afterwards, about losing this. About not wanting to lose it again.