SINS of the Rex Book 2

by Emma Slate

  Nathan paused.

  “You fucker,” I seethed. “You know.”

  “I don’t,” he said quickly. “Honestly. He told me last night before going to bed that he was going to be gone in the middle of the night and to keep you safe, but I swear I don’t know his location.”

  I growled in frustration. “Duncan is gone too. Ash just called me.”

  He nodded. “Not surprising.”

  “She’s coming over,” I stated.

  Nathan threw back the covers and got out of bed. He reached for his discarded sweatshirt and threw it over his head.

  “What are you doing?” I asked when he brushed past me to leave the room.

  “I’ll answer the door. You can never be too careful this time of night.”

  I refilled Ash’s tea mug and then sat back down. Ash’s bodyguard Daniel and Nathan were still in the living room, while Ash and I had made our way into the kitchen.

  Ash stared at me a long moment and said finally, “You have an idea of where they are. Don’t you?”

  “I have a theory,” I said slowly.

  “Care to share?”

  I sighed. “I did something. I called Don Archer and told him about Roehenstart and Arlington.”

  “What?” Ash breathed. “You didn’t!”

  I nodded. “I did. I also told him where I think Roehenstart was hiding out.” I explained how I’d remembered Lairg and my meeting with Winters and Arlington.

  “Why did you tell Archer?”

  “Because,” I said, suddenly frustrated. “Both Duncan and Flynn almost died because of Roehenstart. My son was kidnapped. Malcolm is dead. I was thinking that I wanted someone else to take down the dirty bastard.”

  “But you know how Flynn and Duncan feel about this stuff. This is SINS business. Do you think Duncan and Flynn went to… to take care of Roehenstart themselves?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, how would they know about his location? I didn’t tell them.”

  “You didn’t.” She looked me in the eyes. “But maybe Archer did?”

  Chapter 61

  They moved liked shadows and became the darkness. Three brothers, bound by cause, bound by honor, bound by love, would not rest until The Pretender was dead.

  After dispatching those that guarded the man while he rested, the three brothers moved forward. They crept into the cabin, mindful that the wood planks were old and creaky.

  They didn’t speak—they had no need for words. They moved as one entity but fluid like water. Light came in the form of the dying fire. Only embers remained, glowing dull red as wood turned to ash. The Pretender slept peacefully, like a baby that knew no fear.

  The younger Buchanan nearly snorted. A true warrior would not have been caught unaware. A true warrior would have known his life was in danger.

  It was the older Buchanan who hauled The Pretender from his bed. The man was slight, almost fragile. Not a warrior, indeed.

  The Pretender’s eyes flipped open, his face registering fear. He clawed at the hands around his neck, spittle flying from gray lips. The older Buchanan dropped him, and the sound of a man’s knees hitting wood echoed in the otherwise silent night.

  “He thinks to lead the SINS?” the younger Buchanan asked in disgust. “He must be known for his words.”

  “Aye,” the Campbell agreed. “Get up. Face us like a man.”

  The Pretender struggled to his feet but finally stood. He kept his eyes downcast. His cowardice was maddening.

  “Look at me,” the older Buchanan commanded.

  The Pretender reluctantly lifted his gaze. Even in the dying light, it was obvious that he was pale. How could such a small, spineless man have caused them all so much pain?

  “Who backed you?” the older Buchanan asked.

  “You know,” The Pretender answered, his voice breathy.

  “Say his name,” the Campbell demanded. “I’ll hear his name.”

  “Lord Henry Arlington.” It was but a sickly whisper.

  “And he financed The White Company,” the older Buchanan stated.

  The Pretender nodded.

  The younger Buchanan was unusually quiet, his stare calm and steady. Though his anger simmered just below the surface of his placid facade, he was coiled, ready to strike.

  “He financed the mercenaries that killed my father,” the older Buchanan went on. “They almost got me, too.”

  “My son,” the Campbell said. “Was taken from my home.”

  They continued to list The Pretender’s transgressions, those that were personal and those that affected the SINS. In the end, the four of them knew the outcome of judgment.

  The three brothers wanted blood. They weren’t satisfied until The Pretender was dead at their feet, streams of red coating the old wood floor.

  “It’s done,” the older Buchanan said.

  “Not yet,” the younger Buchanan stated, wiping his dirk on a white bed sheet, staining it crimson. He looked at the Campbell. “Your wife.”

  “I’ll deal with Barrett,” the Campbell said.

  “If this happens again…” the older Buchanan trailed off, not having to finish the sentence. They all knew.

  “Aye,” the Campbell agreed. “But times must change.”

  “Some things will never change,” the older Buchanan said as they all glanced down at the man who had betrayed them.

  “What she did, she did out of love,” the Campbell said. “Not out of some misguided notion. Not for power.”

  The brothers fell silent. Before they left the cabin, they would make peace with what Barrett had done. They knew her mind, her heart. But she was an outsider, a foreigner, and her actions had only proven that.

  “She is the mother of my child,” the Campbell stated. “I ask that she be spared.”

  The older Buchanan looked at the man who was his brother in all ways except blood. “I will grant amnesty for this one transgression.”

  This transgression and no others, the older Buchanan didn’t say.

  “On your honor,” the Campbell said.

  “On my honor,” the older Buchanan repeated.

  Chapter 62

  I was still awake at dawn. Ash had long since fallen asleep as had our two bodyguards. Hawk was asleep upstairs. I was alone in the quiet of the living room near the warmth of the fire.

  Archer hadn’t answered his phone or called me back.

  Sitting on the couch, I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I heard the front door open and the quiet sound of footsteps. I didn’t get up or move.

  “Barrett,” Flynn said.

  The way he said my name made me furious. It was commanding but soft. It was knowing and accusatory in its own right.

  “Is Duncan with you?” I asked, still not moving or turning my head to look at him.

  “No. He’s back at home.”

  “His wife is here,” I said. “She came over in the middle of the night when she realized Duncan was gone and there was no explanation.”

  Flynn came to stand in front of me. He looked down at me, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Where were you?” I asked.

  He paused. “Out.”

  “Out where?” I pushed.

  “That doesn’t concern you,” he said slowly, his cobalt eyes dark and fierce.

  “My how quickly things change,” I stated, my lips quirking into an angry smile. “You used to confide in me.”

  “So did you,” he stated. “When were you going to tell me that you’d called Archer to get him to handle Roehenstart?”

  I rose slowly. “When Roehenstart was in English custody and we were safe.”

  Flynn shook his head and then looked to the celling. “You’re in the wrong here, Barrett.”

  “Where. Were. You.”

  His eyes came back to mine. “SINS business.”

  “Roehenstart?” I demanded. “Did you take care of him?”

  A cell phone buzzing put our conversation on hold. Flynn answered it. “Aye, it’s done.
Thank you.”

  He hung up.

  “Let me guess. Archer?”

  Flynn’s eyes were fierce. “Aye.”

  “When did you decide it was okay to go behind my back?” I demanded.

  “Archer came to me, love.”

  My eyes widened. “Men. They dictate everything and we womenfolk are just supposed to sit idly by while—”

  “There are some things that will always have to be done the old way,” he stated, cutting me off. “You took matters into your own hands when you spoke with Archer, giving him information you had no right to share.”

  “So he ran and tattled to you? Why am I not allowed to speak to Archer?” I demanded. “Because I’m a woman? Because I’m a foreigner?”

  “Because you didn’t talk with me about it first!” Flynn yelled, his temper finally unleashed.

  “And what would you have said?” I shouted back, fury making me shake.

  “I would’ve said no!”

  I turned away in disgust. “So you and Duncan can make unilateral decisions without informing Ash and me?”

  “No,” he began. “You do not get to pull this shite. You started this when you went to Archer with classified information.”

  “I was trying to protect you—protect us all.”

  “You went behind my back,” he growled. “You went behind the acting leader of the SINS’s back. You comprised the cause.”

  I whirled. “Fuck the cause. It’s caused me nothing but grief. You almost died. My son was kidnapped. And if I recall, you were ready to step down as leader. Guess that’s changed.”

  He stalked towards me. “When did you stop confiding in me?”

  “When did you stop confiding in me?” I demanded.

  “If anyone else had gone to the FBI, they’d be dead.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “But because I’m your wife, I’m not dead?”

  Flynn grasped me by the upper arms and hauled me close. “I haven’t decided yet.” His mouth swooped in to capture mine. We crashed together in lust and violence.

  “God, you make me so fucking angry!” he growled against my mouth.

  I grasped him by his shirt. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”

  “Why? Why did you do it?” he demanded, his lips breaking from mine. His hands reached up to cradle my cheeks. “Tell me, Barrett, because I swear to God—”

  “I can’t watch you die,” I whispered.

  His eyes softened. “Ah, love…”

  “And you almost did die,” I went on. “I thought I could do all this, but now there’s Hawk, and the new bairns—”

  Flynn pulled me to him. “Hush, love,” he said into my hair. His body was still hard, primed with anger, but he was melting.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have gone to Archer. Not without talking to you. That was wrong of me.”

  “I know why you did it,” he answered.

  “I betrayed you. I betrayed our family.”

  “No,” he said, stopping me. “The SINS, they aren’t your cause. I know that. You support it because you support me. But Hawk and I—we come first.”

  “And Ash,” I said. “She’s my family too.”

  “Aye. I understand. But my family is more than just us. It’s the SINS, the men, women, and children—they are our clan.”

  “If you look at it that way,” I began, “then I was protecting everyone.”

  “Some things will always have to be done the SINS way,” he stated. “Duncan, Ramsey and I dealt with Roehenstart. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

  “But how—”

  He smiled gently. “You didn’t really think you could get away with going to Archer and I wouldn’t know about it? You weren’t acting like yourself, hen. I knew something was weighing on you. It didn’t take a lot for me to piece it together. And then he called me.”

  “He did what—”

  “I told him I’d gladly let the English have Arlington, but in exchange, we got to deal with Roehenstart ourselves. He agreed.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “He wanted something else, didn’t he? Something bigger? What did you promise him?” I pressed.

  He dropped his hands from my face and pulled me to him. “No more illegal guns into the States.”

  I gasped.

  “Look at me,” he said softly, but with a thread of steel in his voice.

  I leaned back to stare up at him; his arms tightened around me. “You pull a stunt like this again, and we’re going to have a serious problem. Hear me?”

  Swallowing, I nodded.

  “Say you hear me, love. I need you to know that you made a wrong call. I was able to fix it. Outside the five of us, no one needs to know. It’s been dealt with and handled. But you make this kind of mistake again, and I can’t promise you there won’t be backlash.”

  “I hear you,” I whispered.

  “I know you thought what you were in the right,” he went on. “I know you did it out of love and protection. Change is inevitable. But you can’t change too much too fast. And if you go behind my back ever again, even in the name of protecting me, I’ll—”

  “Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” I growled. “I was wrong, and I won’t do it again.”

  “Good,” he said softly though it was no less menacing.

  “Forgive me?”

  He made me look at him and smiled down at me. “I forgive you.”

  I leaned up and placed my lips on his. He kissed me back, gently, lovingly, without any anger.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

  “Aye.”

  The front door crashed open, startling me out of Flynn’s arms. Duncan stormed into the living room, his face defiant.

  “Where is she?”

  I blinked. “Asleep upstairs.”

  “No phone call, no note. Nothing!” he yelled and then stalked from the room, cursing in Gaelic as he went.

  “What’s Gaelic for ‘hypocrite’?” I asked Flynn.

  The sound of slamming doors and yelling had me going towards the stairs. “Wait, love, I doubt it’s a good idea to go up there. Let them have it out.”

  I looked at Flynn and grinned. “They can have it out all they want, but I know they’re going to wake Hawk.”

  “Ah,” he said, trailing after me.

  By the time we made it to the upstairs hallway, Duncan and Ash were already facing off, glaring at each other.

  “You’re a rat bastard!” she shrieked like a violent harpy. “You’re the one that snuck off in the middle of the night!”

  “I was supposed to be back before you were even awake!” Duncan yelled back.

  I made a face. “Wrong thing to say,” I stated to Flynn.

  “Aye,” Flynn agreed.

  Ash turned on us. “Can you not watch our fight? Please?”

  “You’re fighting in my house—in the hallway,” I said with wide eyes. “And you’re about to wake up my son.”

  As if on cue, Hawk’s cry came through the doorway of the nursery. I looked at Ash. “See?”

  “I’ll go,” Flynn said, heading in the direction of Hawk.

  For some reason, Ash transferred all of her anger onto me. She crossed her arms and almost stamped her foot. “I thought you were still angry at them? For leaving in the middle of the night and not telling us that they were taking out Roehenstart?”

  “Why don’t you have this out with your husband,” I suggested, turning away. “I’ve already made peace with mine.”

  Epilogue

  “Summer in the Highlands is gorgeous,” Ash said, a glass of lemonade in her hand, Gucci sunglasses perched on her nose.

  “Hmmm,” I said, making a noise in the back of my throat.

  “That was a decidedly Scottish sound.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a teasing grin. “I’m currently two-thirds Scottish. I should be able to make the noises.”

  “How are you two-thirds Scottish?” Ash laughed.

  I pointed
to my belly. “Twins in there. Two of them. One of me. Do the math.”

  Ash laughed.

  The smell of heather surrounded us and the sun was out in an unusual show. There were hardly any clouds in the sky. It made for a perfect day outside.

  We sat in chairs on a grassy knoll that had a decent view of the surrounding. Booths of food and drinks were set up away from the competition fields. Men, women, and children of the SINS had gathered to share in a week-long celebration of family and Scottish tradition. Tonight there would be a ceremony that would make both Duncan and Flynn co-leaders of the SINS. The members had voted weeks ago and refused to let either of them step down.

  Flynn and Duncan strolled towards us, dressed in their different clan colors.

  “Fuck, he’s got nice legs,” Ash breathed, a hand to her slightly rounded belly. Pregnancy looked good on her.

  “You’re talking about Flynn, right?” I asked, marveling at the sight of my husband’s tan legs.

  “Yeah,” Ash said and I knew by her tone that she was rolling her eyes even though I couldn’t see them.

  “You’re drooling,” I quipped.

  “So are you,” she shot back.

  “Hi, love,” Flynn greeted leaning down to kiss my lips. I held out my hand to him and he easily hoisted me up despite my bulk.

  “That was a chaste greeting,” I rebuked, tilting my head back, eager for something more. He obliged.

  Cheers and applause went up around us. I pulled back, not even a little ashamed. Waving, I tried to bow, but found it difficult. The laughter was welcoming and bright.

  “We came over here to inform you two ladies that we’re about to start the caber toss competition,” Duncan said, his arm around his wife, a look of adoration in his eyes.

  “Then we should come watch, shouldn’t we,” I said to Ash.

  “Who has our son?” Flynn asked, an arm around my shoulders.

  “Last I checked it was Barnabas.”

  “Barnabas?” Duncan said. “You trust that old goat with your son?”

  “Sure,” I said. “How many lambs has he birthed? I trust him with Hawk. Besides, it was his idea to look after him.”

  “You’re kidding,” Duncan said.