In the meantime, he had some things he needed to settle. He pointed his car towards Glasgow’s East End and pressed the phone app on the dash while he did it.
“What is it?” Betty demanded.
“You owe me money, old woman.” Callum negotiated Glasgow’s city centre traffic as he talked.
Betty cackled. “You heard about your porn movie, then. No, wait, they call them sex tapes now. All the B-list celebrities have them because they think showing their bits on the internet will make them more money.”
Callum let out a sigh and wondered yet again how he was going to pay Lake back for bringing Betty into his life.
“You’d better not have made any copies,” he said.
“Now, would I do that?”
“Bloody right you would.”
Her cackle was like nails on a blackboard.
“This is your only warning; I want all copies destroyed by the end of the week or I’m coming to see you.” He turned into a narrow street, flanked by tall red sandstone tenements. Young men loitering on the corner stared at him. Graffiti covered the boarded-up windows of the ground-floor spaces that used to be shops. It was a dump.
“And you’ll do what? I’m eighty-nine. Threats of violence don’t work on me, son. You’ll need to do better than that.”
“I wasn’t planning violence. I was planning on taking care of you. I hear there’s a really nice nursing home in Aberdeen that you might like. I’m willing to pay for you to move in there and live out the rest of your life in comfort. Sure, it’s far away from Invertary and they lock the residents in at night, but you’d be happy there. Okay, maybe not happy, but definitely contained. I have the paperwork all drawn up that says I’m your son and I have power of attorney over your health, seeing as you’re suffering from dementia and all.”
“You’d never get away with it.”
“Try me.” He hung up as he pulled the car up in front of the last close in the tenement.
There was a crowd of young men hanging around outside the entrance to the flats. They all looked undernourished and beady-eyed. Callum got out of the car. He’d worn his shoulder holster for this occasion, and made a show of putting his gun in it. Guns weren’t a common sight on Scotland’s streets, not even in areas like this, and Callum knew if the young men were armed, it would be with knives.
He strode towards them, making his way right through the middle of their group.
“The car stays in one piece,” he said.
“Or what?” A young punk stood in front of him. Callum grabbed him by the nape and smashed his face into the wall of the building. He heard his nose break and then the howl of pain and disbelief. Callum kept on walking without saying a word, confident his message had been heard.
The close was remarkably clean, considering the state of the street outside the building. Callum made his way up the concrete steps to the top floor, passing doors that remained firmly closed. When he turned into the last flight of stairs, he wasn’t surprised to find two men waiting for him. They were bigger and more muscled than the boys downstairs. One wore knuckle dusters; the other held a knife.
“Either of you boys called Ray?” Callum asked.
They shared a look. “No. Who are you?”
“I’m here to see Eddie.”
“Eddie’s no’ takin’ meetin’s.” The one with the knife pointed to the stairs. “Get oot of here while ye still can.”
Callum didn’t bother arguing. He jabbed the guy with the knife in the throat, disarmed him and threw his knife into the stairwell. The man fell to his knees, choking. The other guy threw a punch. Callum ducked, grabbed his arm and used his forward momentum to propel him down the stairs. He didn’t turn to see what state he was in. Instead, Callum strode forward, lifted his foot and kicked in the door to Eddie’s flat.
Inside, a woman screamed. Callum ignored it and headed down the hallway. A short, nasty-looking guy with heavy rings on all of his fingers and a gun in his hand stepped into the doorway at the end of the hall.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Ray?” Callum asked, striding towards him.
“Ray, who is it?” someone shouted from inside the room.
Callum nodded. “Then you’re Ray.”
This was the man who’d hit Isobel and threatened to rape her. Callum saw Ray lift the gun. He wasn’t fast enough. Callum grabbed the arm with the gun, bent back Ray’s hand and released the gun into his own hand. Ray tried to head-butt him, but Callum sidestepped it, pressed Ray’s gun to his thigh and pulled the trigger.
Ray squealed like a pig and crumpled to the floor. Callum pointed the gun into the room, aiming it at the two men sitting on the leather chairs with glasses of whisky in their hands.
“Don’t move,” he ordered them.
Then, keeping the gun pointed in their direction, he looked down at Ray. “You like to hit women, Ray? You liked hitting my woman.”
“Fuck off,” Ray said as he held his thigh.
“Wrong answer.” Callum pointed the gun at him. “Hands up above your head, flat on the floor, or I put a bullet in the other leg.”
Ray cursed, his face turning red, but he put his hands on the floor. Callum didn’t hesitate—using the strength of his prosthetic leg, he stamped on both hands, satisfied when he heard the crunch of bones.
“That should stop you punching women.” He looked down at the sobbing Ray, who held his hands against his chest. “But if I ever hear that you’ve done it again, I’ll come back and smash the rest of you. Are we clear?”
Ray only whined, and Callum took that as a yes. He stepped over Ray and into the room. “Which one of you two is Eddie?”
There was silence.
“Should I just shoot both of you?”
“Him, it’s him.” One of the guys pointed at the other.
“Johnny, you fucking coward,” Eddie said before looking back at Callum. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“Well, that’s easy, Eddie.” Callum pointed the gun at Eddie’s head. “I’m Isobel Sinclair’s man, and I want to put a bullet where your brain should be.”
There was the unmistakable stench of urine, and a wet patch appeared on the front of Johnny’s trousers.
“I’ll keep away from her,” Eddie said, tripping over his words.
“Now, why don’t I believe you?” Callum stepped closer. “You told her to pay you with sex.”
“It was a joke.” The weasel started to sweat.
Callum looked at Johnny. “Does he normally ask for sex?”
Johnny nodded, and Eddie’s face turned into a mask of pure menace that promised retribution. In Eddie’s tiny pond, he was the one to fear. But Callum wasn’t a local fish. Callum was a shark.
He lifted his foot and slammed it into Eddie’s crotch, using all the force of his bionic leg. A high-pitched whine escaped Eddie, he grasped what was left of his dick and keeled over, landing in a heap on the floor. Callum wiped Ray’s gun and pressed it into Eddie’s hand. With Eddie’s finger on the trigger, Callum pointed at the man’s foot and shot. The scream was piercing.
Callum looked at Johnny. “If you want to live, leave now.”
He ran, dropping the glass of whisky onto the carpet as he did so.
Callum pulled out his phone. “I’d like to report gunshots,” he said to the police, and rattled off the address before hitting the end button. He leaned into Eddie. “This is your last warning. Go near any of the Sinclair sisters again and I will cut off your dick and staple it to your door. And, if the cops ask, I was never here. Ray kicked you, you shot him and then, being a stupid bastard, you shot yourself. I don’t know how Ray’s hands got smashed. You can make that part up.”
He turned from the writhing man, stepped over Ray and left the apartment. Nobody stopped him on the way to his car, and he was pleased to see it was still in one piece. As he opened the door, he heard sirens. The cops could sift through Eddie’s paperwork and deal with him and his henchman. Callum knew that there was e
nough evidence lying around Eddie’s flat to put him away for a very long time. His source in Eddie’s team had made sure there would be.
Callum put the car in gear and pointed it south.
It was time to go back to work.
It was time to head home to London.
CHAPTER 29
ISOBEL HAD NEVER BEEN TO London before. She’d never been anywhere. The farthest she’d travelled was Glasgow. It’d been three miserable weeks since she’d let Callum walk out of the hospital. Three weeks to think about her life and what she wanted to do with it. Three weeks of camping in Agnes and Mairi’s living room while the police went over the debris of her home. Three. Long. Miserable. Weeks.
And now she stood in front of Benson Security’s London office, their very grand London office, and wondered what the heck she was doing. There hadn’t been a single word from him. Nothing. Of course, she hadn’t contacted Callum either, but still, the fact he hadn’t even been in touch to find out if there was a baby or not worried her. Did it mean she’d missed her chance and he didn’t want her anymore? She wouldn’t blame him. She came with a lot of baggage.
“Hello?” The speaker on the wall came to life, making her jump. “Hello, miss, are you planning to stand out there all day or do you have some business with Benson Security?”
The voice was female and polite, but it still made Isobel rub her clammy palms on her jeans. “Um, I was hoping to see Callum. Callum McKay.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.” Should she have made one? “I can come back if he’s busy.” Maybe.
She wasn’t sure she’d have the guts to go through this again. In fact, the only reason she was there this time was because she had backup. Her sisters and the kids had come with her to London. They were at the zoo while she went to talk to Callum, and would be there to pick up the pieces after she’d learned that this was all a mistake.
“What’s your name?”
She cleared her throat, wondering if she should give up and walk away. “Isobel Sinclair.”
“Oh my goodness! You’re Callum’s woman. Come in, come in.” There was a buzzing sound and the door popped open.
Hesitantly, Isobel let herself into the building. The reception area had obviously been remodelled, and was more open than she would have expected. There were massive plants everywhere, a comfortable waiting area with beautifully upholstered seating that matched the colour scheme and a grand staircase that led upstairs. Dominating the space was a large reception desk, painted lilac, with the company logo in the centre of it, and behind that was an office. A woman peeked out of the office door, but didn’t come any closer.
“Hi,” the woman said shyly. “I’m Julia. The office manager. Sorry about the intercom. Our receptionist moved to Scotland and I don’t like to man the desk.”
“Hi,” Isobel said, and awkwardly came to stand in front of the reception desk. “Is Callum in?”
Julia nodded and said to her shoes, “I’ve sent for Joe. He’ll take you up to him. Callum’s in a team meeting in the conference room. I’d take you, but Callum’s been shouting a lot lately. A lot more, I mean.”
“Oh.” Isobel glanced behind her and wondered if she should sprint for the door.
“Don’t scare Callum’s woman, babe,” a handsome man said as he came down the stairs. He looked Italian and sounded American, and his eyes melted at the sight of Julia. He held out a hand to Isobel. “Joe Barone, Julia’s fiancé. You have no idea how glad we are to see you. Callum has been like a bear with a sore paw for weeks.” Joe studied her. “Please tell me you’re here to stay?”
“Joe!” Julia said. “That’s between Isobel and Callum.”
“Babe, he’s driving us nuts. He needs his woman.”
“So I’ve been told,” Isobel said wryly.
She’d had daily phone calls from different members of Callum’s team, extoling his virtues and begging her to take him back. She’d explained that she’d never kicked him out, she only needed time to think, but nobody paid any attention to her protests. She’d even had a scary old woman called Betty call her and tell her to get her backside to London and give Callum some nooky to calm him down. Isobel shook her head at the memory.
Joe’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Been getting some hassle from the crew, then?”
“And someone called Betty.”
“Ouch. You attracted Satan’s attention. That’s not good.”
Isobel wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she said nothing.
“Come on, I’ll take you up to him.” He started for the stairs.
“Good luck,” Julia called before disappearing back into her office.
“You aren’t going to break his heart, are you?” Joe said as they went up the stairs. “If that’s why you’re here, it’s probably best if you just leave. I don’t want Callum losing his mind. He has the access code for the armoury in the basement, and I don’t fancy trying to disarm a pissed-off Scot.”
“As your fiancée would say, that’s between Callum and me. But I’ll try to keep him away from weapons.”
“That’s not the answer I was hoping for.” Joe led her down a corridor towards what sounded like a riot. “Tempers are fraying. Especially Callum’s.”
As they approached the door, with the brass plate declaring it the conference room, Isobel could make out voices.
“I don’t care if you think it isn’t your job,” Callum shouted. “Suck it up and get on with it.”
Isobel shivered at the sound of the voice she’d missed so much these past weeks. It didn’t even matter to her that he sounded like he was about to go on a rampage.
“I am not your employee,” someone else said. “I’m your partner. I don’t take orders from you or anyone else.”
Ah, it was Rachel. Isobel cast a glance at Joe, and he shrugged. “Welcome to Benson Security, or as we fondly call it, hell.”
“You’re part of this team,” Callum roared. “I’m in charge of this team. You need to pull your weight.”
“And you need to get laid before we kill you,” Rachel shouted. “For the love of Gucci, call the woman and tell her you’re sorry. Do whatever it takes to get her back. Buy her things. Give her money. Promise her a pony. Just get her back before it’s too late for all of us.”
There was a roar of approval at Rachel’s statement.
“For the last time,” Callum barked, “we didn’t split up. She needs time to think.”
“About what?” Rachel asked.
“How the hell am I supposed to know? Can anyone really tell what a woman is thinking? She’s had some bad experiences. She needed to think. I’m giving her time because I’m a bloody modern man! If I wasn’t, I’d have thrown her over my shoulder and locked her up until she got over this crap.”
“You’re a modern man?” someone asked.
“Damn straight. I’m sensitive,” Callum shouted.
Isobel started to giggle and covered her mouth. With a shake of his head, Joe put his hand on the door.
“You can see why we need you,” he said as he pushed the door open. “Hey, Mr Modern Man, you’ve got a visitor.”
Isobel followed him into the room and found everyone seated around a large table. Well, everyone except Callum and Rachel, who were standing at one end, glaring at each other. As soon as they all saw her, there was a cheer.
“About time!” Elle shouted.
Isobel blushed, and then her eyes caught Callum’s. Everything else faded away. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and then he was stalking towards her.
“Everybody out,” Megan shouted, and people rushed past Isobel without even stopping to say hello.
Isobel froze, like prey in the sight of a large, hungry cat. Callum came right up to her, slammed the conference door shut, slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her. Her back slammed against the wall and his mouth was on hers. All before she’d even managed to take a breath.
She was here.
Nothing else matt
ered except the fact Isobel had walked into his office on her own two feet. She’d come looking for him and he didn’t care why, because no matter her excuses, he wasn’t letting her go this time. He threaded his fingers through her hair and clasped the back of her head as his mouth came down on hers.
Bliss.
Cinnamon-chocolate bliss. Isobel. Nothing tasted like Isobel. Nothing slaked his hunger the way she did. Nothing felt as good in his arms as Isobel. He’d been lost without her. Trying to work his way back into his life while he felt like he really was only half a man. His better half was missing. She was in Scotland, trying to find herself. And he’d run out of patience waiting for her. He’d planned to give her until the weekend and then deal with the situation the only way he knew how—kidnapping.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. He felt her legs curl around his hips as he pressed her against the wall. It felt right. Perfect. He felt complete for the first time in weeks. And he needed more. He needed to be inside her. Joined to her. Part of her.
She ripped her mouth from his and he moved to her throat, teasing the sensitive skin he found there.
“I came here to talk,” she said breathlessly.
“Then talk.” He just didn’t plan on stopping while she did it.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she tugged his face up out of the crook of her neck.
“Callum, I need to talk.” She didn’t look like she needed to talk. She looked like she needed him.
“The only thing I want to hear is you telling me that you’re here for good. Have you decided to give us a chance, Isobel?” Man, she was beautiful.
Her blue eyes softened. “Yes,” she said, and Callum wanted to roar.
A cheer went up from the hallway.
“Bog off!” he shouted at his team, but he’d lost the edge of anger that had been riding him for weeks. “Perverts,” he muttered before taking her mouth in a kiss that was punishing and desperate.
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