by Emma Slate
“What?”
“Time. To get over you.”
I kept my eyes on him, refusing to be affected by his pronouncement. I knew there might have been a chance he still felt that way about me, but I’d hoped he found someone else. Found happiness.
“Be honest with me Sasha, and none of that false hope shit,” I said. “Do you think there’s a chance Hawk is still alive?”
He paused for a long moment and then drew a deep breath. “I think there’s a good chance he’s still alive. But—” he said, his tone turning ominous, “—the chances of us finding him are slim.”
I nodded, feeling my heart lodge in my throat. It had been five days since Hawk disappeared. I barely slept at night, feeling the loss of him so acutely it was like he’d been cut from my body.
We were desperately grasping at straws. There were three men in the House of Lords who lived in London. Sasha and Flynn had plans to visit them and extract any information they could. Elliot had been the one to give up their names, so who knew if the man was actually speaking the truth. Lord Arlington couldn’t corroborate it on his end. Not yet.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said.
“Why?” he asked curiously.
“Because,” I said. “You think like us without being one of us. You can give us an outsider’s perspective. It’s helpful. We’re all so close to it. There was once a time that we wouldn’t dream of asking for an outsider’s help.”
Sasha’s jaw clenched and his mouth clamped shut like he was trying to hold back words he didn’t want to say. So of course I wanted to hear them.
“Out with it,” I said quietly.
“Not my place.”
“Always your place,” I said. “You’re more than my friend, Sasha. Remember? You were the one who stopped Vlad from strangling me. And you were there when Dolinsky…” I trailed off, not having to remind him of the video. Sasha had seen me raw and exposed while Dolinsky made me come against him and then broken my ring finger.
“I wanted to snap his neck,” Sasha said, his voice low. “For treating you that way.”
“He’s gone now.”
“Is he?” he wondered. “Or are you still haunted by him?”
I smiled, but it wasn’t in amusement. It was in feral ferocity because Sasha knew me. He knew me, which is why I’d always let him speak his mind.
“Tell me what it is you really want to say, Sasha.”
“You’re an outsider, too. A foreigner. They’ll never trust you they way they trust each other. It’s a lesson you’ll have to keep learning, because you’re steadfastly loyal and full of heart. Their cause has become yours. Your son is Campbell’s, and God willing, he’ll grow up in the SINS. But you didn’t. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
“Maybe,” I allowed.
Rays of sunlight streaked through the window, and though the new day was unusually bright, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Flynn, and block everything out.
I stood up and walked to Sasha. Leaning down, I brushed my lips against his cheek. “Get some sleep.”
I left him in the sitting room with his own ghosts.
The next time I awoke, it was close to noon. And I heard yelling. Mostly in Gaelic.
“What the fuck?” I muttered, feeling like I’d been drugged. My eyes had a hard time staying open, but I forced them.
The commotion continued even after I managed to throw on some jeans and a heavy sweater. I ran down the stairs, attempting to figure out what was going on. The front door was open, like someone had left in a hurry. Quickly slipping into boots, I followed the voices outside.
No one was on the front lawn, but then I heard a shout from the side of the castle. I jogged over and stopped. Ash, Flynn, and Sasha, along with a handful of men who patrolled the grounds, had congregated to watch the spectacle taking place.
Jane Elliot had tied her bed sheets together in the hopes of creating a rope and thrown it out the window. She was halfway in between the window and the ground, looking both determined and terrified.
I didn’t know if she was scared because she had a fear of heights or because Ramsey Buchanan waiting for her. To be fair, Ramsey’s glare was quite impressive, and I was looking at it from fifteen feet away.
“Crazy girl,” Ash muttered with a wry look at me. “What did she think was going to happen?”
“I think she was desperate,” I pointed out.
“Aye,” Flynn agreed. “But let’s say she’d made it to town without us being aware of her escape. Someone would’ve called me.”
“She’s young,” I said, defending her. “And clearly headstrong.”
“You’re headstrong, too,” Sasha said quietly. “And you didn’t attempt to run.”
Flynn looked at Sasha and glared at him. Sasha shrugged, but he’d spoken the truth about how I handled myself when I was stuck in Dolinsky’s home. Then again, I’d been in the middle of nowhere Vermont in winter. It would have been foolish to try to leave.
“We’re not all built the same,” I said. “And Jane is a sheltered young woman who was kidnapped from her twenty-first birthday party. We should cut her some slack.”
“And find a better place to keep her,” Flynn said with a shake of his head.
“Why not take her to one of those tiny islands off the Scottish coast,” Sasha suggested. “Minimal security and if she tries to leave, she dies because of her own fallacy.”
Ash looked at Sasha and grinned. “You’re brilliant.”
“Outsider,” Sasha corrected with another look at me.
Jane had decided not to continue her descent. Instead, she hung steadfast to her bed sheet rope. Ramsey stood below her, hands on his waist, looking up.
“Might as well continue, lass,” Ramsey called to her.
“I’m going to climb back up,” Jane shouted, attempting to shove her chestnut hair out of her face with her elbows. The wind picked up, blowing her hair back into her face, and pushing the bed sheet rope ever so slightly so that it began to swing.
Jane adjusted her hands as if really attempting to climb back up, but one her hands slipped, and so did her position. She cried out, attempting to grip the sheet tighter. Just as she was able to take a deep breath, there was an audible rip and the bed sheets split. She only had a few seconds before it ripped all the way, sending her to the ground.
“Jane,” Ramsey bellowed. “Climb down now!”
She did as commanded, quickly lowering herself to the ground. When she was about five feet away, the sheets gave way and she would’ve fallen and broken an ankle or leg, but Ramsey was there to catch her. She fell into his arms like a damsel in a historical romance novel. The look Ramsey gave her once he had her in his arms was one part rage, the other part lust.
Jane’s fair skin went paler and then color stung her cheeks.
I looked at Flynn. “Ramsey should go with her to the island.”
Flynn shook his head. “That’s a bad idea.”
“Do you trust me?” I demanded.
Flynn grinned. “Aye.”
“Trust me. Ramsey should go with her.”
We all looked back at Ramsey and Jane. He was still holding her in his arms, and she was outright staring at him.
Ash snorted. “Roughly nine months from now, I bet there will be a mini Ramsey Buchanan in the world. Anyone care to venture a bet?"
Chapter 21
Ash and I watched the car depart with Ramsey and Jane in the backseat. They were Orkney Island bound, and I wondered how long it would be before Jane broke. Not because I believed Ramsey would ever lay an abusive hand on her, but when she caved of her own volition and demanded Ramsey touch her in desire. Alone, without the influence of outsiders, completely insulated, with just each other for company, the sparks between them had the chance to burst into flames. Though I’d never seen Ramsey look at a woman the way he looked at Jane, I worried her heart would get broken. Another causality in our war for a free Scotland. But sending her aw
ay with Ramsey was the only hope we had of winning her loyalty; she was young and if she believed herself in love with him, we might be able to use that to our advantage.
“Let’s go into town,” Ash said when we could no longer see the car. “Let’s get away from all the testosterone in the house.”
Sasha, Flynn, and Duncan were locked away in the study, continuing to plan for Sasha and Flynn’s time in London. I needed the distraction from thoughts of Hawk, so I readily agreed.
We took a car into Dornoch, but instead of having our driver drive us around, we got out to walk the town square.
“Let’s go in here,” I said as we stopped outside of a clothing store with Highland wool sweaters in the window.
Ash made a face. “Really?”
“You know you’re going to freeze in winter, right?” I teased.
“I’m not buying long underwear,” Ash said, putting her foot down.
Rolling my eyes, I opened the front door to the store. An older woman stood behind the counter, folding a batch of wool sweaters. She looked up and greeted us with a cheerful smile and introduced herself as Glenna, but otherwise didn’t overwhelm us with retail help. It wasn’t long before I found a handful of sweaters that I wanted to buy. There were some adorable knit baby sweaters that had tears prickling at my eyes.
“You have a lovely selection,” I said, bringing the sweaters to the counter, shaking off thoughts of my missing son.
“Thank you. They’re made right here in Dornoch.”
“Really?” I asked in surprised.
Glenna nodded. “Local sheep and many local women make a living knitting. As you can see we have hats, scarves—not just sweaters. We’ve made a thriving business here, and it keeps the town invested. We ship all over the world, you know.” She preened with pride.
“That’s incredible,” I said with sincerity. I felt even better about buying handmade sweaters that came from the place I’d chosen to live. “That’s what’s missing from so many products these days. I’d rather spend more on something of quality, something unique, than something mass produced.”
I handed over my credit card to her and her eyes widened. She attempted to hand it back to me. “I can’t let you pay, Mrs. Campbell.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“Because you’re the wife of—”
“Now stop just a moment,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” Ash asked, coming up to my side.
“Glenna refuses to take my money.”
I’d received the same treatment from the old farmer Barnabas who’d given me a lamb in the form of an apology for not knowing my identity. It was ridiculous.
“I’m part of this town, too,” I said to Glenna. “Please let me help support local businesses.”
Before Glenna could respond, a young woman came out from the back room. “Grannie, I can’t find the—” She stopped talking as soon as she saw me, her eyes widening. She clearly knew who I was, and I had to hold in an annoyed sigh.
“Katherine,” Glenna said. “Come over here and meet the Campbell’s wife.”
“The Campbell?” Ash asked me quietly.
“I’ll explain later,” I whispered back.
Katherine was a mousy young woman with straight brown hair and brown eyes. At the moment her face was pale and she looked terrified.
Glenna barked something in Gaelic and Katherine visibly jumped. She rushed to the counter and scooped up the sweaters I wanted to purchase and headed for the back room.
“She’s going wrap those up for you,” Glenna explained. “Please consider them a gift.”
I was apparently not going to win this war because Glenna was adamant, so I decided to be gracious. “Thank you,” I said.
Glenna looked relieved. “It’s going to be a little while. There’s a coffee shop just across the way. Why don’t you have a cup and a scone and I’ll have Katherine run your bags over to you in a wee bit?”
I felt like I was being shooed out of the store and Ash looked equally confused. We headed back outside and ambled towards the coffee shop that Glenna had mentioned.
“The Campbell?” Ash asked again.
“They’re basically calling Flynn a laird. It’s a sign of respect and it means they know who’s in charge.”
“And as his wife, that means you don’t pay for things?”
“They wouldn’t charge Flynn, either,” I said. “It’s like in the old days when the peasants would give their lord their best animals.”
“And you got a lamb,” she pointed out. “That was weird. I thought it was weird.”
“Barnabas lives by the old code.”
“And you know all this because you studied Scottish history. Why do I feel like I’m never going to get the hang of this?”
I opened the door to the coffee shop and before we even stepped up to the counter, we had cups of coffee and scones in our hands. Again, they wouldn’t let us pay. Ash wanted to leave a huge tip, but I shook my head. Tipping wasn’t customary in Scotland, and besides, they would’ve seen it as an insult. They took great pride and honor serving us.
“It wasn’t like this seven months ago when you moved here, was it?” she asked as we took a secluded table near the back.
“No,” I admitted. “But seven months ago, Malcolm was alive, and we didn’t know Flynn was going to be acting leader. We shouldn’t discuss this in public.”
She nodded, looking down into her cup of coffee. There wasn’t much we could discuss in public. I suddenly wanted to be home, so I didn’t have to be on display or worry about what I could or couldn’t say.
“I’m going to go use the loo,” Ash said, rising.
I nodded and took my last sip of coffee. I glanced out the window and saw Glenna’s granddaughter walking across the square. I went to go meet her, wanting our business concluded as swiftly as possible. The air was cold and bit at my nose and ears. I pulled my coat closer to me as I braved the turning weather.
Katherine stopped in front of me, holding out the bag. I took it from her. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out, her face devoid of color. Before I could ask her what had her apologizing, she turned and dashed away.
I heard the bell on the coffee shop door jingle and knew it was Ash. “Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said absently, wondering why Katherine seemed afraid of me.
Ash and I arrived home to a boisterous house. The men had vacated the study and were currently in the sitting room enjoying an early afternoon cocktail.
“Celebrating?” Ash asked as she perched her tight behind on the arm of Duncan’s chair. She leaned down to kiss him and even I could see that it was heated.
“You could say that,” Duncan replied.
“What’s going on?” I asked, setting my bag of sweaters down and coming over to sit next to Flynn on the couch. Sasha sat quietly in a chair, looking tired. Jet lag must have finally caught up with him.
“We’ve got a plan of attack,” Flynn said. “Sasha and I are going to leave for London tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I asked in shock. “That’s soon.”
“Arlington called with a lead on Hawk’s whereabouts,” Flynn replied.
I felt like someone had punched me in the lungs. “Really?” I asked breathlessly.
He nodded and reached up to touch my cheek. The tears I’d been holding in suddenly spilled over and Flynn wiped them away with his thumbs. Hawk had been gone a week. A whole week of his short life gone, and I hadn’t been there to witness it.
“Do we know who took him?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Flynn said. “But right now, it’s more important that we bring him home.”
“And how are you going to do that?” I demanded.
“Those three names Elliot gave us are men against the Scottish Referendum. We got access to their phone records. All three of them call each other regularly as well as an unlisted number.”
“A burner,” I said.
Flynn nodded. “They’re men involved i
n politics which means they don’t ever do their own dirty work. They won’t have the stomach for violence or blood. They’ll cave and give us information.”
I bit my lip, working it through my teeth while I thought. “And Elliot?”
“He gave us these names. If he gave us false information, one of the promises you made to him won’t be kept.”
Flynn referred to Elliot’s death being quick. I hoped for everyone’s sake the information was correct.
“Do you think they know the SINS member who has caused all this?”
“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Flynn asked.
Chapter 22
I should’ve been in bed next to my husband. He was leaving in the morning, and though we’d spent a few hours together, bringing each other to the height of pleasure without the benefit of sex, I hadn’t been able to fall asleep.
Restless.
Sasha being here, being in Scotland, changed my orbit.
He was a trigger for old habits, and I wanted to be outside, under the white moon, breathing in the crisp air, and speaking of things that were easier to say in the dark.
Because he knew me, he waited for me by the front door, already bundled and dressed for the outdoors. I tied my boots and then slid into my thick, warm coat, wrapped a scarf around my neck and donned a wool hat. Our boots hardly made a sound as we trekked across fallen leaves. The earth was damp and spongy.
“You’ll be careful,” I said, my voice carrying on the air. It sounded ghostly as if a spirit had spoken. It was whimsical, maybe, to think that, but Scotland was full of ghosts and spirits from a violent and bloody history. Culloden came to mind.
“I’ll be careful,” he vowed. “I’ll make sure your husband is careful, too.”
“Thank you.”
We stopped walking, and I closed my eyes to listen to the sounds of the night. I didn’t know what was going to happen when Flynn and Sasha were in London. There was a good chance that we wouldn’t learn anything new and we’d be going round and round in circles. But knowing Flynn, he wouldn’t stop until he exhausted all avenues.