SINS of the Rex Book 2

by Emma Slate

  “Love, we’re almost home.”

  I sat up from my slouched position, Betty curled up on my lap, and looked out the window. I’d somehow fallen asleep again, but it had been surprisingly easy. The warm body of Betty had felt like Hawk in my arms and lulled me into peace.

  We drove through town. Some of the shops were open, but a lot remained closed. Store hours were subjective in the Highlands. We passed Dornoch Cathedral where we’d buried Malcolm. A welling of tears prickled my eyes. I felt like we hadn’t had any real time to grieve for him. But knowing Malcolm, he wouldn’t want us to waste energy on mourning for him—he’d want us to be strong, to fight back, fight for our cause, and destroy those that stood in our way.

  I’d shoved thoughts of Elliot out of my head, but it all came screaming back. What were we going to do about him? How deep did this go? How long had Elliot been working with the FBI? And why? Did the FBI have something on Elliot or did Elliot stand to lose a lot if the SINS succeeded?

  Round and round the questions went, but I tried to cram those questions into a box. I didn’t have the answers, and I wasn’t going to get them in the back of an SUV. I buried my face in Betty’s neck, breathing in the smell of her fleece. I felt a tentative tongue on my cheek and smiled. Who needed a dog when you had a lamb?

  We quickly left the town behind and drove deeper into beautiful green hills. The wild beauty of Dornoch still made me catch my breath. I wondered if I’d ever get tired of seeing it. As we got closer to home, the worry in my stomach eased. I would soon be reunited with my child and my world would be right again. A surge of hormones flooded me and my arms ached to hold Hawk. I settled for lavishing love on Betty, who hadn’t moved since she’d been set onto my lap. I snorted.

  “You all right, love?” Flynn asked.

  “Fine. Where’s Betty going to sleep?” I asked.

  “We’ll make her a pallet on the back porch.”

  “It’s cold out there.”

  “Barrett—”

  “Would you want to sleep out on the porch?” I demanded.

  “I’m house trained,” Flynn shot back.

  “Is it always like this?” Charles asked.

  “Ah—”

  “Don’t answer that, Flynn. I’d like to see any of you carry a baby in your body for nine months, squeeze it out of you, and then feel like you’re back to normal.”

  “Fair enough,” Charles relented. “I think Betty should sleep in the living room next to the fireplace.”

  “You’re getting a really big Christmas bonus,” I said to him. I watched Flynn shake his head, but at least he was silent.

  I knew I sounded like a lunatic, but I couldn’t help it. As Charles turned up the windy road to the castle, I bounced in my seat like a kid. Charles barely had the chance to park before I lifted Betty off my lap and set her on the seat. Unlatching my seat belt, I flung open the door. My bare feet hit the walkway as I dug through my clutch. Finding my keys, I was inside the foyer before Flynn was even out of the car. Then again, I’d left him to deal with Betty.

  “Mrs. Keith!” I called out, heading towards the kitchen so I could wash my hands. I hit the kitchen light and went to the sink. I lathered up.

  I heard the front door open and Flynn’s faraway footsteps until they drew closer. I turned my head as I rinsed my hands. Flynn stood holding the lamb under one arm like a football. He shook his head, but his face was resigned.

  “Until she gets a bath, she sleeps on the porch,” he said.

  “That’s fair.”

  Flynn moved through the kitchen to the back of the castle, muttering under his breath in Gaelic. I smiled to myself. After drying my hands on the dishtowel that hung on the refrigerator, I called out again for Mrs. Keith, but there still wasn’t an answer.

  Grabbing onto to staircase railing, I used it to help me run up the stairs. By the time I got to the top, I was out of breath, and my heart was pounding with anxiety. Something wasn’t right. The house felt empty, stale. I rushed down the hallway towards the nursery, a sense of foreboding creeping down my spine, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

  I pushed open the door and screamed.

  Mrs. Keith’s still form sat up in the rocking chair. Her skin was a chalky white, her eyes open and unseeing. In the center of her forehead was a bullet hole. I began to shiver as I forced myself to walk towards her. A note rested in her lap. I picked it up and read the words that sent ice shooting through my veins.

  The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.

  Clutching the note in my hand, I turned to the crib. Hawk’s mobile had been wound and bumblebees flew around in a lazy circle. I crept closer even though I knew what I’d see.

  The crib was empty.

  Someone had taken Hawk.

  Part II

  Chapter 15

  I wasn’t a religious person. I didn’t believe in heaven or hell and frankly, I wasn’t confident that I believed in God. Though I liked the idea of a higher power, I wasn’t sure one existed.

  Good and evil were a sliding scale of gray.

  But I did believe in karma. Retribution. Revenge.

  The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.

  Sometimes things cut you so deep you didn’t even feel the pain of them, just empty coldness.

  There were noises around me, conversations, and sharp angry words. I got up from the couch and left it all behind in the living room. I went into the kitchen and stopped, standing next to the granite island countertop, having forgotten why I was there.

  The morning had started out bright. Well, bright for Scotland. Streaks of sunlight somehow managed to make their way through the puffy gray clouds. All traces of sunlight were now gone, and the gray clouds rolled closer, like a dark shadow covering the land.

  “Barrett?”

  I didn’t turn at the sound of my best friend’s voice. Didn’t even register that she’d come.

  “Barrett, what can I do for you?”

  All the desperation and fear I wasn’t feeling had been given to Ash. She sounded like a terrified mother whose child had been pulled from her arms.

  “Do you know who took my child?” I asked, far too calmly.

  “No. Flynn and Duncan have some—”

  “Do you know if my child is alive or dead?”

  Can you hear a person flinch? Or did I just know Ash well enough to know she flinched?

  The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.

  “I don’t know anything about Hawk.”

  I paused for a time, finally speaking as the black shadow clouds opened up and released their anger. Fat raindrops splattered the windows. “No, Ash. There’s nothing you can do for me.”

  My breasts ached. My empty arms ached. My body was screaming at the loss of my child.

  She retreated, leaving me alone. Something inside of me finally broke. The numbness cracked, shattered, replaced by volcanic, violent rage. I broke dishes and expensive wine glasses. I threw Waterford crystal to the floor, the sounds of splintering glass a melody to my ears. When my rage had run its course, I gripped the edges of the counter, panting for breath, trying to breathe through the pain that was swirling through my body.

  Someone put their hands on my shoulders and gave them a squeeze. I turned so fast, I bumped my hip against the corner of counter, pain radiating through me. I pressed myself to Flynn’s chest and cried.

  “Drink this,” Flynn commanded, pouring me a glass of scotch.

  I sat down onto the couch and with a shaky hand, I brought the glass to my lips, the peaty, mossy smell of single malt scotch soothing. I took a small sip, savoring the flavor. A trail of warmth trickled down my throat. I took a bigger drink.

  I wanted to curl into myself, but that wouldn’t help Hawk. I could barely think straight. Fear, pain, hope, all mixed together to make for a debilitating cocktail.

  Duncan Buchanan sat in a chair by the lit fireplace. He was supposed to be on bed rest due to the bullet he
’d taken in the chest only a few weeks ago. But I knew why he was here. He was known as The Tracker. If anyone could find my son, it would be Duncan—if he was physically up to the task.

  Duncan’s younger brother Ramsey sat in a chair across from him on the other side of the fireplace. Though usually charming and a big flirt, ever since the death of their father, Ramsey had been angry and wild, uncontrollable.

  Ash sat next to me on the couch while Flynn sat on the other side of me.

  Flynn looked at Duncan and nodded. Duncan said to me, “Hawk is alive.”

  “How do you know?” I asked, feeling faint.

  “Because he wasn’t here in a certain state for you to come home to,” Duncan said bluntly.

  Something tight inside of me unfurled, just a little. It wouldn’t go away completely until I had Hawk alive and pressed against my body.

  Flynn’s hand reached over into my lap to grasp one of my hands. He clutched it tightly, and it kept me rooted in the present.

  “This is a play to distract us, divide us,” Duncan said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked in confusion.

  “If we’re spending all of our resources and time looking for Hawk, we can’t be focused on our cause, now can we?” Duncan said.

  “But who wants us distracted? The FBI?” I wondered. “The same people who killed Malcolm?”

  “That would be my guess,” Duncan admitted. “But we can’t rule out that there’s another enemy involved.”

  “So where do we start?” I demanded, feeling the hysteria climbing up my throat.

  “Elliot,” Flynn said. “We start with Elliot. We haven’t been able to question him yet.”

  I nodded, letting out a shaky breath and standing. “Let’s go.”

  “Hen,” Flynn began.

  “I’m coming, Flynn. It’s my right.”

  Flynn stood and grabbed my hand before tugging me out of the living room, out onto the back porch where we had a modicum of privacy. Betty, the lamb I’d been given, raised her head from her pallet of old blankets to look at me.

  “You can’t be there, Barrett. I’m not even going to be there.”

  I stopped, blinking in surprise. “No? Why not?”

  “Because if I find out that bastard had anything to do with Hawk’s disappearance, I’m going to kill him. And it won’t be fast.”

  I saw Flynn tamp down a ripple of anger, but it lurked in his eyes, hardening him. He was barely in control of himself and for some reason that made me feel better. I thought I was feeling everything alone, because Flynn rarely let his deep emotions out, let alone control him. I wondered how he was keeping it all locked down. And then I realized he had to, because if Flynn let it all out, there was no putting a lid on it. It would burn and spread like fire in a prairie.

  I went into his arms, needing to breathe in the smell of him and feel connected.

  I couldn’t stay in our home or sleep in our bed, waiting to hear sounds through the baby monitor that wouldn’t come. I couldn’t go into the nursery where I’d found the corpse of Mrs. Keith, Hawk’s baby nurse.

  I opened the bedroom dresser drawers and starting throwing clothes onto the bed. Flynn was still downstairs talking to Duncan and Ramsey about things.

  “Need some help?” Ash asked from the doorway.

  “Can we stay with you?” I asked, looking at her.

  “Of course. You can even bring the lamb,” she said with a small smile.

  I nodded but didn’t return the smile. Looking down at my dirty, bare feet, I realized I hadn’t showered yet, and I was in desperate need of clean clothes.

  “We’re going to find him, Barrett,” she said.

  I held up my hand. “Please. I can’t. Not right now.”

  “Okay.”

  I turned away from her and headed towards the bathroom. I got the shower ready and stripped out of my clothes. Steam quickly filled the bathroom, clouding the mirror and obstructing my vision. I climbed into the shower and stood for a moment, letting the hot water beat down on me. And then, with a sigh, I sank down into the tub, no longer having the strength to stand.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door before it opened. “Barrett?” Flynn called. When I didn’t answer, he ventured again, “Hen?”

  I lifted my legs up to my chest and hugged them, resting my head on my knees. I shivered when Flynn entered the shower, letting out some of the heat. He crouched down behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

  He didn’t say anything and I was grateful for the silence. Empty platitudes were useless and wouldn’t help or ease my sorrow and fear. Flynn’s hands stroked up and down my arms, sliding across my wet skin. I hated that we couldn’t be intimate. I wanted to lose myself in the comfort of intimacy and sex with my husband. Sometimes it felt like the only thing that made me feel sane in a world full of insanity. Whatever I was feeling, I could take it out on Flynn. He accepted it, embraced it, even asked for it.

  His lips met the curve of my shoulder and I closed my eyes, leaning back into him. Flynn’s fingers painted whorls of desire on my skin. He caressed my heavy breasts, my aching nipples. He pinched them lightly and then I felt the release of built up pressure. His hand slid lower, resting between my legs. Teasing, light strokes had me shuddering in pleasure. Flynn’s lips bathed my neck as he pressed his hand to the apex of my legs. My hand covered his and together, we brought me to my peak. My legs went slack and I slumped against him.

  “Come on, love,” Flynn whispered gruffly. “Let me wash your back.”

  Chapter 16

  Ash set a plate down in front of me. “Eat,” she commanded.

  The fireplace in Malcolm’s sitting room blazed, throwing flame shadows on the walls. Hera was at my feet as was Betty. No one had made an objection when I demanded I keep Betty close despite the fact that lamb smell was different from dog smell.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said, finally lying down across the couch, my hand reaching down to stroke one of the animals. Though they were no substitute for a child, pets needed to be taken care of. And at the moment they needed me as much as I needed them.

  Ash sighed, but held her tongue. It was just the two of us in the living room. Ramsey was with Elliot, interrogating the man while Duncan sat from a private room to watch it all unfold on camera. Though Duncan had wanted to be in the room with Ramsey, he was still healing and Elliot needed to know that the SINS were strong. Ramsey had a lot of rage and that could be a new source of issues. He was in the room with the man who’d had his father murdered—I wouldn’t be surprised if Elliot was left alive, but just barely.

  Flynn was still at our home, seeing to the care of Mrs. Keith’s body. I closed my eyes as a wave of guilt struck me. The only crime the woman had committed was to believe we could protect her. She’d taken care of Hawk, held him in her arms, soothed his cries. And her repayment had been death.

  Our choices, Flynn’s and mine, were taking the innocent. No other way to slice it.

  Hera woofed in her sleep and Betty lifted her head.

  “I just don’t understand,” Ash muttered as she took a seat near the fireplace. Though we were at home, she was dressed like a Park Avenue Princess, all done up for the day. I hadn’t even bothered to blow dry my hair and now it was frizzy and out of control.

  “What don’t you understand?” I asked.

  “How someone got past all the security on your land. Hawk and Mrs. Keith were well insulated and protected. So how the hell did this happen?”

  The five security men we had stationed on a rotating basis since the death of Malcolm were members of the SINS, trained and well equipped to handle anyone that were a threat. They’d all been found dead.

  I sat up suddenly, my heart beating frantically, turning over an idea in my mind. Like a key sliding into a lock, it snapped open.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  “What?” Ash asked, rushing to my side. “Are you okay?”

  “Where’s my cell?” I demanded. “I have to call Flynn
. Now.”

  I waited for Flynn in the privacy of the guest room in the east wing of Malcolm’s castle. Pacing back and forth, my mind went over it again and again, more convinced than ever that my theory was correct.

  The bedroom door flew open, crashing into the wall. Flynn stood in the doorway, breathing hard, like he’d run some great distance. He was still in his outerwear and he dripped rainwater on the carpet. “What is it? Barrett?” He came towards me and put his hands on my arms, checking to see if I had any wounds.

  “Take off your coat,” I demanded. “Before anything else.”

  Flynn did as I told him and unzipped the coat, taking it off and hanging it on the back of the bathroom hook.

  “Seriously, you can’t leave voicemails like that—not after—”

  “I’m sorry,” I said with genuine contrition. “But I didn’t want to say anything over the phone and I needed you here as soon as possible.” I went to the bedroom door and closed it.

  “What’s going on with you? You’re flushed.” He came towards me and his hand reached up to caress my cheek.

  I didn’t need comfort now—my brain was working overtime and it was exactly what I needed. It made me feel useful, and it would help get Hawk back.

  “What I’m about to say, just think about it. Don’t react, okay?”

  He frowned but nodded, his hand dropping to his side.

  I took a deep breath. “I think whoever planned this—taking Hawk—I think it was a member of the SINS.”

  I waited for Flynn’s reaction. There wasn’t one. His breathing didn’t change; he didn’t even appear as if he’d heard me. So I went on with my theory.

  “Think about it. The mobile was on when I entered the nursery, which means someone knew we were on our way home. How? The security guards.”

  “They were all found dead,” Flynn said, his blue eyes shining bright with anger. I didn’t know if it was because he hated my words—didn’t even believe them—or that he did.

  “All of them?” I demanded.