Eight o’clock arrives and we pull away from our departure point. “The bus is less than half full. I thought there’d be more people.”
“Scotland doesn’t get as many tourists in the winter. I’m sure this bus is crowded in the summer months.”
“I’m glad we’re not packed in like sardines. We can stretch out and get comfortable.”
It’s an hour drive to Stirling Castle. You can lean against me and nap if you’d like.”
“I’m good.”
Well… I thought I was. I wake nearly an hour later to Sin nudging me. “Bonny. We’re here.”
We unload from the bus and I walk to the edge of the property. I take out my camera and focus on the snowcapped Highlands in the distance. What a beautiful view. It’s no wonder they built Stirling Castle in this location with uplands like these as the backdrop. “Absolutely gorgeous. I’m really excited about the photos I’m going to get today.”
We hang toward the back and let our group go ahead since we want to explore on our own. “How old is this place?”
“The oldest sections were built in the early twelfth century. A lot of kings and queens were crowned here, including Mary, Queen of Scots.”
The inside isn’t at all what I’d imagined. It’s like a small collection of buildings to form a small kingdom. It’s amazing that this place was built so long ago and still safely stands for us to tour today. “I should probably consider taking a course in Scottish history for the sake of our children.”
“You’d better do it soon because I highly doubt you’ll have much time for such after August gets here.”
I look over the pamphlet I was given with our admission as we approach the entrance to the castle called The Forework. I feel the need to stop and take in the magnitude of what I’m seeing. “This is what Americans think of when they envision Scottish castles. Or at least it’s what I always imagined.”
This place was constructed for kings and queens. Countless royals have been delivered through this processional entrance by horse-drawn carriages. They’ve walked these same paths we’re on right now. Perhaps even stepped upon the same cobblestones beneath my feet.
We stand at the highest location of the castle and Sin points in the distance. “That’s the Wallace Monument for Sir William Wallace. Not Braveheart.”
I laugh. “I understand William Wallace was a real man who died for a real cause.”
It’s pretty far so I change my lens out for the one made for long distances. “Will you bring me back one day so we can visit the monument?”
“Sure.”
We don’t get to explore near as long as I’d like. We’re due back at the bus so we can move on to our next stop. “We’re coming back on our own. I don’t feel like I saw half of this place.”
We’re walking hand and hand as a light drizzle begins. My foot slips on a cobblestone. Thank God Sin catches me before I go down. “Careful, Bonny. This pregnancy has shifted your center of balance.”
“I’m sure that’s going to get even worse as I grow.”
I stop and grind my sole against the stone. “Not all my fault. The heels of these boots are slick. Bad choice of footwear for today.”
Sin loops his arm through mine and uses his other to grip my bicep. “I can walk without assistance.”
“I’m just protecting you and the babies.”
I slow because we’re walking downhill and I’m not confident in the grip my soles have against the ground. “Have you stopped to think about the way our lives are going to change, beyond the dream of having two cute little chubby-cheeked babies? They’re going to require a ton of care. It’s going to dominate all our time. Or at least mine.”
“You aren’t going to do this alone. We’ll get through it together. Promise.”
“We’ll know each other a year and a half when we become parents to two children. That’s scary as hell.”
My boot slips a second time and Sin saves me from tumbling down the cobblestone incline. “I’ll never let you fall.”
I straighten and look at him. “Let me rephrase what I just said. Becoming parents is scary as hell but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be terrified with.”
Our next stop on the tour is a charming village. I’ve seen them from the road but I’ve not stopped to visit. “It’s lunchtime. Want to get a bite now or shop?”
As if he has to ask. “Food.”
The dining hall is housed in the general market where you shop for clothes and souvenirs. Goats are fenced in around the exterior of the building.
“You don’t see that back home.” Not even in the rural south where I’m from.
“No billies living outside of your shopping center?”
“Definitely not.”
I grow to love this way of life more every day. I could see myself being happy in a village.
We walk down to the restaurant, which is really just counter service with a few tables and chairs within the general store. We choose to sit next to a window so we can look out over the tree-covered uplands and watch the kids come to the fence to play with the goats.
A pair of young boys is poking their fingers through the wire to pet the animals. They’re wearing matching Peruvian-style monkey hats with the tassels hanging on each side. Adorable. A woman, their mother, I presume, photographs them.
That could be me soon. Snapping pictures of two little boys. Except I always imagine us with a little girl. Maybe one with red hair like Isobel.
Day two of distractions is a success. I had a wonderful time with Sin. I visited my first castle. Explored a loch and walked on its beach while holding my husband’s hand. Ate fish and chips for lunch in a charming Scottish village and shopped in the market. Sin enjoyed the distillery and tasting. Perhaps a little too much. The bus is pulling away and he already appears to be asleep.
We spent the day hanging with normal folk. It was nice while it lasted. Now we return to Fellowship life.
And wait to learn if I’m the daughter of a monster.
Shit. It’s already morning. I slept ten hours and I’m still exhausted. Yesterday’s tour involved a lot of walking so it robbed me of the small amount of energy the anemia leaves me.
My mouth waters when I smell food. Maybe waffles. Possibly pancakes. Definitely bacon. Except what the Scots refer to as bacon is what I’d call ham. Whatever the name, it’s delish.
I roll on to my side and I feel something. A bubble? A flutter?
The realization of what it is hits me and I squeal. “Sin! Come here. Quick.”
He rushes into the room with wide eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I just felt the babies move!”
“You scared the fuck out of me.”
I did shout pretty loudly. “Sorry. I got really excited. It was only a tiny little flutter but I know that’s what it was. It was exactly as the book describes it.”
I knew it was fine that I had not yet felt them at nineteen weeks but the anticipation has been killing me.
Sin comes to me and puts his hand on my tummy. “Not feeling it now?”
“No. It lasted two or three seconds and was gone.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll have to be much bigger for me to be able to feel their movement,” he says.
I would think so as well. “Sorry to call you in here for nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. You felt our babies move for the first time. That’s very exciting.”
“I smell pancakes or waffles and bacon.”
“Waffles. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed but would you prefer to come to the table?”
No way. I want to be catered to. “Let’s have breakfast in bed together.”
“As you wish.”
I get up and perform my morning routine before springing back into bed to await my food.
Sin comes into our bedroom carrying a tray. There’s even a vase with a fresh rose. “Where did you get that?”
“The market.”
“You’ve already been ou
t this morning?”
“I had to pick up the things I needed for breakfast.” He places the tray over my lap. “You look fresh. Does that mean you brushed your teeth and won’t dodge me if I try to steal a kiss?”
“Yes.”
He leans down and kisses me. “Mmm… minty good.”
He goes around and climbs in on his side of the bed.
I’m excited to hear what today’s distraction will be. “What are we doing after breakfast?”
“I made an appointment with my mother’s decorator. We’re meeting her and Mum at our new house in two hours.”
“I can’t believe she was available on such short notice.”
Sin laughs. “It helps when your mum is her most important client. She’s willing to bend her schedule to accommodate when Isobel Breckenridge calls.”
Isobel made the arrangements. That’s so sweet.
“Is it all right if Ellison comes?”
“Of course.”
“Was she up when you brought breakfast?”
“No. That lass can sleep like the dead. I bet she didn’t budge when you squealed earlier.”
“She worked nights for years. Her internal clock is still out of kilter.” I put my fork down. I’ve eaten as much as I can. “This was very good but I’m stuffed.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Sin takes my tray from my lap.
I couldn’t ask for a better husband. “I’m still awed by how good you are to me.”
“I promised you I would do everything I could to make you happy. I meant that.”
“And you do. Every single day.”
Chapter 18
Sinclair Breckenridge
House buying. Castle tour. Village shopping. Interior design. It was fun while it lasted but my game of distractions has come to an end. Three days of waiting have come and gone. Time for the truth.
Bleu and I go into our bedroom since it’s the only place we have complete privacy. We sit side by side on our bed. She clutches the manila envelope containing her paternity results but makes no move to open it.
“You aren’t obligated to read the results. If you don’t feel ready, you can put it away until a later time. If you never feel ready, that’s fine too. Understand that reading it right now isn’t your only choice.”
“I don’t think I can deprive myself of the relief I’ll feel if it proves I’m not his daughter.”
She’s assuming Todd isn’t her father. “That might not be what it says. What then?”
“You know me. I can handle anything as long as it’s the truth.” That’s proven true so far but this is a completely different circumstance. I’m afraid for Bleu but I must support her decision. That’s my job as her husband.
She takes a deep breath and opens the flap, pulling out the test results. She passes it to me without a glance. “Please read it for me. I can’t do it.”
One doesn’t simply glance at paternity test results for a quick answer. There isn’t a yes or no box. It’s complicated but after a moment, I decipher the verdict. Conclusion: cannot be excluded. Paternity probability is ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent. Todd Cockburn is her father.
“You aren’t saying anything. That can’t be good.”
I fold the results and place it on the bed. “He’s your biological father.”
Bleu nods and stares straight ahead at the wall. “Okay. The only thing this changes is what I’ll say before I kill him.”
We’ve had this argument before so here’s the same song, second verse. “We’ve talked about this, Bonny.”
“You said you didn’t want me putting myself in danger. Todd’s contained. He won’t be a threat to me. Firing a weapon doesn’t put me or the babies in danger.” That’s her opinion.
“Physically, no. But you don’t fully understand the impact a premeditated murder can have on your mental status. Now it’s further complicated by the fact that he’s your biological father.” There’s no way that won’t wreak havoc on her emotionally.
“It’s not a complication. It’s an unfortunate detail.”
“One you’ve not yet had time to process.”
“What is there to process? He knocked my mom up. She ran from him and gave birth to me. He killed her and tried to kill me. I think I’ve processed it all quite well.” I wish it were that simple.
What I’m about to tell her is going to cause problems. “I can’t let you do it.”
“You won’t let me? What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“Who do you intend to have do it, then?”
“Me.”
“You know what this means to me. It’s my one last sin. I’ve spent eighteen years searching for this man. I’ve devoted my life to it. It’s all I’ve lived and breathed since I was seven years old. Seven! My entire childhood and adult life has revolved around this and now you tell me you’re going to take it from me.”
“Please try to understand where I’m coming from.”
She shakes her head.
“Bonny.”
I move toward her but she puts her hands up. “No.”
She’s furious. She needs to cool down before we discuss this further.
I gather my laptop and case files from the corner chair, putting them into my briefcase. “I’ll be at the office if you need anything.”
No reply.
“Love you, Bonny.”
She responds by going into the bathroom and slamming the door.
“See you tonight.”
This situation is already turning my wife into someone she’s not. Bleu is always mature and rational, more so than any other woman I’ve known. The person I just argued with was not.
I arrive at BI but it’s not my office I go to first; it’s my father’s. I tap on his door. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
“I need to update you about some new findings.”
He places his pen on his desk. “Sounds serious.”
“Bleu is Todd Cockburn’s daughter.”
My dad motions for me to shut the door. “I assume she isn’t taking that well.”
“Her only reaction is that she wants to be the one to kill him.”
“She’ll need to take a number because she’s not the only one. I’m not sure how I’ve kept from going over to the black site and blowing his head off his shoulders.”
My father did not take well to finding out that Todd had killed Amanda Lawrence, but learning about Cara is what broke him and Mum. They immediately blamed themselves because Todd is part of our circle. They felt as though they didn’t protect her from him.
“I appreciate you not doing that while we waited for the paternity results.”
“Bleu’s in no condition to be assassinating anyone.” He doesn’t have to convince me.
“Do I need to step in as her leader to solve the problem?”
“No. She’s very aware that the possibility is off the table if I say so.”
“You’re her leader, yet she’s fighting you on this.” Bleu doesn’t have a submissive bone in her body.
“She feels she can because she’s my wife. And she’s a hard-ass. It complicates things.”
I’m about to ask the impossible of my father. “I understand how much you want to kill Todd. He took your daughter and the woman you loved. But Cara and Amanda are gone. Bleu lives and won’t be whole until her mother’s murder is avenged. I fear carrying it out herself will bring her more damage than healing. As her husband, I need to do this for her. With due respect, I’m asking you to pass this duty on to me.”
“This is a lot to ask.”
“I know, Dad. My father and my wife want the same thing. I know what it means to both of you, so it’s with a heavy heart that I make this request.”
“I can’t bring back Cara or Amanda. If you believe this will help heal Bleu, I won’t deny you of that possibility.”
My mind is at ease. “Thank you.”
“When will you do it?”
“I suppose that depends on how well things go with Bleu.”
“I wish you the best of luck, son.”
My day is long. I’m distracted. I can only think of Bleu and how she’ll react to what I’m going to do.
I’ve texted her three times without any kind of response. I’m not at all pleased about that. I would be worried about her safety if Kyle and Blare weren’t with her.
The workday ends and I’m not ready to go home to another fight, so I make a detour to Duncan’s. Jamie has agreed to meet me for a whisky or two. Maybe ten.
I’m pleased he accepted my invitation. The last few days have been devoted to Bleu so Jamie and I have only spoken briefly over the phone. He’s told me several times that he’s fine, but saying the words and them actually being true are two different things. I need to see for myself.
He’s waiting at our table when I arrive, two whiskies already in front of him. He’s usually a Guinness man. “Starting without me, I see.”
He pushes one of the whiskies in my direction. “Only on my first. But definitely not my last.”
I gulp the Johnnie Walker down. Damn smooth stuff. Every time.
“How are Westlyn and Evanna?” I ask.
“Westlyn’s grieving but she’s all right. Evanna’s not handling it as well.” I’m not surprised; Evanna was Abram’s favorite.
“And Torrie?”
“Mad as hell. She isn’t receiving the treatment of a leader’s widow.” Predictable. She’s yet to realize how lucky she is I don’t have her thrown out of that ostentatious house she calls home.
“What’s going on?” Jamie asks.
“Argument with my wife. A big one.”
Jamie laughs. “I’m glad you married a lass with a backbone. Watching her go head to head with you is entertaining. No one else could get away with that.”
I have news for him. My wife has more than a backbone. She has balls. Big ones.
“I’m not looking forward to part two when I get home.”
“I’m guessing a former FBI agent can hold her own in an argument,” Jamie says.
She damn sure can.
“It’s going to get ugly fast. And I’m pretty certain Ellison will be home. I don’t want her to hear us.”
Complete Sin Box Set Page 64