Dark Baby: Captive Romance (Scottish Doms Book 2)
Page 11
“He’s as good as dead now,” I said. They all stared at me. It was the truth. Davie would kill him for letting us go, and if he didn’t, then my brother would ensure it happened one way or another.
“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.
I thought about how to answer. Did I want to tell them? My hot-headed, idiotic brothers who acted first and thought about it second? No… Better to keep this to myself, for now. Maybe I’d tell Sarah about him. Christ, she’d probably understand it after being with my brother. She’d understand what loving a man who was no good for you did to your head. She’d understand the addiction, the highs, the comedown. Was James feeling it too? He must be. Why did he let me go, though? Did he let me go? No, I refused to believe that.
“You’ve taken his favorite drug.”
“Megan?”
What do I do?
How do I get them to stop fucking talking to me?
I did what I always did; I acted my heart out.
Nothing scared people like a person who had lost their mind.
And I was a good actress.
I was back in my room. Well, my room at Jed’s house.
They’d done exactly what I suspected they would do. They’d put me in a box, because none of them were smart enough to know how to deal with me and the crazy. It’s what I wanted, though. Quiet. Somewhere I could think and reflect on everything that had happened.
I can only ever remember feeling something like this once in my life before. I was 18 and had gone to Ibiza for a girls' vacation. It was the first night, and I got talking to a guy who DJ’d in one of the clubs. Antonio. Or Tony. Tony was the name I screamed when he fucked me. He made me feel so fucking special and I honestly began to think ‘this is it’. Megan Vidal, Mrs. Megan Vidal. He introduced me to his friends like I was his Queen. He talked about our life together, the children we’d have, the villa he would buy for us. He paraded me around that club like I was something special. Girls looked at me with jealousy in their eyes and I loved every fucking second of it. And then I got off that plane, the damp Scottish air hitting me in the face, I switched my phone off airplane mode and I expected to see a message from him. It never came. That’s when I realized he’d taken me for a fool. I wasn’t capable of just enjoying something for what it was. I wanted fucking everything. I didn’t get out of bed for a week after Tony.
And I swore I’d never let it happen again. I’d play them at their own game. I was smarter than all of them. So why the fuck was I feeling worse now than I did back then?
Had he played me? I didn’t want to believe that nothing he’d said had been real. But I was here, back with my family who were technically his enemies, and he was… where was he? Killing David Kimber alone? Building an empire on his own?
I switched on the iPod dock, which sat at the side of my bed and tried to let the music drown out my thoughts. A sudden knock at the door disturbed me, and I hesitated for a second. I couldn’t deal with the bloody inquisition right now, but I didn’t want an argument with the growls that were coming from my stomach. How long had it been since I’d eaten anything?
I opened the door to see Sarah standing in it, a cup of tea and a sandwich in each hand, and a look on her face that was half pity/ half concern.
I moved the door just enough to let her pass and then closed it quickly behind her.
“You’re a wee lifesaver!” I smiled, taking the hot mug out of her hands and sipping it to check it wasn’t scalding. It was. I placed it down on the bedside table to cool and bounced down on my bed.
Her eyebrows squinted, and she looked at me like I’d just spoken in fluent jibber. I burst out laughing. I had missed her.
“Calm yourself down. I’m not really away with the fairies!”
“Megan… what the fuck?”
“Don’t judge me. I panicked.”
“So you’re not…”
“Crazy? Not even a little.”
“You don’t look… yourself,” she said gesturing to the messy bun that was now lopsided on my head. I supposed she had only ever seen me looking polished.
“Hey!” I retorted, “How ‘yourself’ did you look when my brother kidnapped you, eh?” I flung my little heart-shaped scatter pillow across the room at her and grinned.
“What happened to you?”
What had happened to me? Where to begin. Right at the start was likely the best option. So that’s what we did, for well over an hour I spilled my sorry little tale to her. She nodded in all the right places, occasionally asking a question or two.
“And how do you feel now… about James?”
Shit. I didn’t even know where to begin.
“Have you ever had a man fuck you so good, that you find yourself daydreaming about it for days after? Like you’ll be washing the dishes, or trying to get to sleep, making a fucking cup of tea, showering, and it’s just there — replaying in your mind again and again.” She gave me a look that reminded me she was a bloody virgin until she’d met Jed. Well, shit. “That’s what he did to me. And now I don’t know what to do, even when I’m not thinking about him, he’s there. He’s in my mind constantly and I don’t know how to make him leave.”
I took a long breath, thinking it felt good to finally get the words out, to finally admit it to someone.
“It’s normal — how you’re feeling. I mean you were with him constantly for weeks, of course he will have had some sort of effect on you.”
“You mean like you and my pig-headed brother?” I rolled my eyes, couldn’t help it.
“I’m not saying it’s not weird. And I’m still working on forgiving him. But it’s real, I know because I felt like that too while I was away.”
“Jed didn’t leave you though. James drugged me and dropped us off on Jed’s door.”
“Wait, what? No, Jed took us.”
“What do you mean?”
That’s when Sarah explained everything that had happened up to the point of Jed storming Davies brothel, the brothel where James must have taken me. The pieces were all clicking together now, and I realized quickly how fucking selfish I’d been — so consumed in my own pitiful situation that I’d barely given her’s a second thought. She’d been shot, she was pregnant, and not only that, but her own grandfather had tried to force her to get rid of them. Them. I’d be an aunty to two little sprogs in a few months' time.
“You think he knew about Louise?” I wondered.
“I can’t think of any other explanation for him bringing you back to that brothel that night.”
“We had an argument the night before…”
“Go on?”
“It sounds so fucking stupid looking back now. It wasn’t even the right time of the month to get pregnant. But he couldn’t see it. I couldn’t stand being locked away in that house with no sign of when or how it would end. And then that last night, he basically told me he wanted us to have a baby. A fucking baby. Can you imagine? I flipped. Well, after he did the thing that increases your chances of having one.”
I don’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to say that he came inside me. I was a grown adult, for God’s sake.
“He hadn’t done that before?” She asked. I shook my head. “Well, I think he handed you over to Jed to keep you safe. It’s the only logical explanation.”
“Safe from what though? He always said the most important thing was that Davie suspected nothing. Unless he intends to do it himself, and he thinks there’s a chance it could go wrong.”
“That sounds much more realistic than him leaving you over what? A stupid argument?”
I wanted to believe her, because that would prove my own selfish desires of validation. I was good enough. He hadn’t left me. He was doing this to keep me safe.
But if that was true, what did that mean for him? If I was so important to him that keeping me safe was his priority, why hadn’t he told me what he would do? We were supposed to be partners, and he was acting like a man on a suicide mission.
“Maybe you’re r
ight,” I conceded.
“You need to speak to Jed.”
“You need to do it for me.”
“Megan?!”
“He’ll listen to you. I’m his baby sister, I can’t tell him half of the things that have happened. But you can tell him just enough. He needs to get in touch with James and offer a truce.”
“He won’t do it.”
“Make him.”
“James is the enemy just as much as Davie is.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“They both want the same thing! They’ll tear each other apart for it.”
“We’ll worry about that when David Kimber is dead.”
Chapter 20
JAMES
He was a dead man.
That was the only thought racing through my mind as I sat on the sofa in Dr. Patterson's front room, a phone in one hand and a gun in the other. He stabilized Eva in the early hours of the morning; she needed fluids and painkillers and rest, but she would live.
He’d gone off this morning for his day shift in the local hospital, and I’d slept with one eye open. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were sitting ducks here. Everyone who mattered knew about Doctor Patterson, but it was an unwritten rule that it was a safe place. Like claiming sanctuary in a church, you waited outside.
Although the rules had changed so fast recently that it was impossible to know which ones were still in place. You didn’t abduct relatives. You didn’t shoot your own fucking granddaughter. You didn’t push innocent women down the stairs. You didn’t bring the fight to Dr. Patterson's door. Who knew what rules were meant to be followed anymore?
Jed Campbell had changed everything.
I wasn’t disagreeable with violence or murder. I’d go as far as to say that I liked the finality and the guarantee you got with killing someone. I’d done plenty in my life that I wasn’t proud of, but I didn’t like the way things were now. Uncertain. I’m not good with uncertainty. I like black and white; I like to know where I stand. And that’s the kind of world I would build. I’d seen that vision in Megan too. Fuck throwing people down stairs and shooting people in the foot. If the person needed and deserved to be gone, then make it happen.
Davie needed to be gone. But what would come after Davie? Would it be war with the Campbell brothers next? Would I need to make sure they were gone, too? Where would that leave Megan?
Too many questions, none of which I had the answers for. Not while Megan was miles away and Eva was unconscious upstairs.
I called Paul and asked him to come to Dr. Patterson's house, thinking he could play bodyguard for a while. That was the good thing about being Davie's right-hand man for the past 10 years. The men were loyal to him, but I was the one who had raised and trained them. I was the one who made sure their wages were in their hands every Friday at 1pm. I was the one who knew their wives, their girlfriends, their favorite fucking football team. I was the one they would follow if there had to be a choice.
Everyone had to make a choice.
It was getting dark as I pulled the car up outside the high-rise apartment block. I hated this area. It was the type of place where you’d come back out to find the back windows of your car tanned in ‘cause you’d left a £2 coin in the ashtray.
I swaggered over to the entrance and pressed the button for Flat 12/4. Handing a tenner to the teen who looked like he had the most wit, I told him to watch the white BMW for twenty minutes as the door buzzed and clicked open.
That’s why I didn’t like places like this- reminded me far too much of my own childhood. I would have taken that £2 coin and bought a half pizza supper and a single cigarette and it would have seemed worth it. It would have been a good night, back then.
The stair reeked of piss and marijuana and one of the lights was flickering above me. I went to the elevator only to find a handwritten “OUT OF ORDER” sign stuck to it. Fucking brilliant. I hoped wee Jonny outside wasn’t timing the twenty minutes as I made my way past the sea of pushchairs to the stairwell.
I reached the twelfth floor a while later and chapped the door.
“Kelly-Ann! How’re ya doin’? And is that wee Ava? She’s getting big!”
Kelly — Kyle’s girlfriend — answered the door with a chubby, red-cheeked baby attached to her hip. Davie knew nothing about Kelly-Ann, or baby Ava, or Brad — their 4-year-old who liked Paw Patrol and could eat for Scotland.
“I’m doing alright, James,” she said as she turned and made off down the hall, “Kyle’s in the kitchen.”
I closed the door and made my way through the crammed apartment to the kitchen where Kyle sat at the table weighing white powder and putting it into clear plastic bags.
“Alright James. Wondered when I’d see you.”
“Sure you weren’t wondering if you’d see me?” I chuckled.
“I heard through the grapevine what’s been happening.”
“Did you hear about Eva?”
“Aye, sorry business that is.”
“Aye, it is.”
I closed the kitchen door to make sure Kelly-Ann was out of earshot and sat down with him at the table before I continued.
“You’re going to get rid of Davie,” Kyle said, cutting off whatever I was about to say.
“Straight to the point.”
“No point in fucking about. You know I like you, fuck you’ve taught me everything I know. But I have mouths to feed. I have the customers, but I need product. Guaranteed product. Davie always makes sure that happens.”
“Christ, Kyle, Davie has fuck-all to do with it, and you know it.”
“Aye, I accept it’s you who runs things. But Davie’s name alone stops other people from trying anything stupid.”
“Davie’s name stops people because they know he has a fucking team of enforcers. The same team that would work for me.”
“You might be right.” Kyle shrugged before going back to weighing his powder.
“Did Davie’s name stop Jed Campbell?” I pushed.
“Jed was an exception.”
“Do you think it will stay that way now everyone knows it can be done? Everyone who hates Davie will side with Jed. Everyone who hates Jed will side with Davie. Do you think war is good for getting product safely into the country?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I need to know that if Davie went, you wouldn’t side with Jed.”
“I wouldn’t side with Jed.”
I nodded. “I won’t forget it.”
“Oh, I know you won’t! I’ll fucking hunt you down if you ever do,” he chuckled.
“I need a favor. Well, I need you to do a job.”
Kyle put down the bag and clicked the scales to switch them off, giving me his full attention.
“Theres a shipment due in tomorrow. Paul is at Patterson‘s place keeping an eye on Eva for me, I need you to go, check it over, and make sure it gets to where I need it to be.”
“How much are we talking?”
“Half a mil. But that’s not important. What is important is that it goes where I need it to go.”
“The usual place?”
I shook my head. “I need a pen and paper.”
Kyle got up and poked his head around the door, shouting for Kelly-Ann.
“You don’t know where to find a pen in your own fucking house?” I teased.
“Shut your hole, James. Kelly!”
She came in a second later and retrieved a pen and an old envelope from a drawer in the kitchen, passing it to me with an eye-roll as she left. I wrote the address and handed it to Kyle, his eyebrows shifting as he read it.
“Where the fuck is this?”
“A warehouse, just outside of Kelso.”
“Can I ask why you want me to drive a half mil of product all the way down there?”
“That warehouse belongs to Jed Campbell — which is the last place Davie will think to look.”
“Does Jed know?”
“No. But he will, don’t worry. Y
ou just need to make sure it gets to that address.”
Kyle shook is head in bewilderment.
“Will you do it?”
He paused before replying, “I’ll do it. But I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Aye… me too.”
I left after a few pleasantries with Kelly-Ann and the sprogs. Inspecting the car, it appeared young Jonny was true to his word, and I thanked him for keeping the little crowd of street-rats from stealing the wheel-trims.
I got in the car, not really knowing where I heading. Sometimes, you just need to drive. I knew what I needed to do. I had to speak to Jed Campbell and sort out a business arrangement that would satisfy the both of us. I should have driven to his door, but something was holding me back.
I picked up my phone and called a man who connected both of us and who wasn’t a snake. Declan McCauley.
“Hullo?” he answered in his thick Irish accent.
“You alright Declan?”
“Alright, aye. What can I do fer ya?”
“I need you to text me Jed Campbells number.”
“What would ye be wantin’ with that, eh?”
“Business.”
“Business?”
“Aye. Time is of the essence, mate.”
Declan tutted and hung up the call. A few moments later the phone vibrated on the seat, Declan had delivered. I pulled the car over and switched the engine off, hoping Jed would be just as agreeable as our Irish pal.
I pulled the car off the main road and parked up in a side street, switching the engine off. Putting the phone to my ear, I swallowed hard and listened to the rings on the end of the line. One… Two… Three… Four.
“Who’s this?”
The voice on the other end of the line was rough and impatient sounding. I instantly didn’t like his attitude.
“It’s James McLaren.”
Silence for a few moments, until he sniffed.
“Fuck do you want?”
He was a cheeky bastard, but I thought of Megan and tried to calm the rage that was building inside of me.
“I have a proposition for you,” I replied, keeping my tone as pleasant as possible.