Chapter 28
“Ye’re a traitor.”
River stared at Finlay in disbelief. A part of her feared that something had happened to him, that he had perhaps hit his head much like Archer had and was now acting strangely, simply because something was wrong with his mind.
But no, it couldn’t be. Finlay showed no signs of being confused.
If anything, he seemed more lucid than ever.
“What are ye sayin’, Finlay?” River asked.
She wanted to rise to her full height, to face the man more evenly, even though he would still tower over her, but she didn’t want to leave Layla on the floor like that, and so she remained next to her, almost kneeling.
“What has gotten into ye? Why are ye…why are ye bein’ so cruel? ”
“Cruel?” Finlay spat, a humorless laugh escaping him. “Ye think me cruel? What do ye think of yerself, then?”
River wasn’t sure how to answer that question.
She did consider herself cruel sometimes, especially when it came to how she had treated Aidan, but she doubted this was what Finlay was talking about.
The shock of it all, from the fire to this argument with him, was simply too great for her, and her confusion grew with every passing second.
She didn’t know what to think, what to say, how to feel.
On the one hand, she felt the very real urgency of getting out of that room with Layla and taking her to Jenson, finding the children, notifying the entire castle that her chambers were on fire and that Archer’s attacker was there.
On the other hand, she wanted to find out what it was Finlay was saying, why he was acting so out of character for him.
And she wanted to rage. She wanted to rage against him for daring to say such things, for daring to attack her when she was in the middle of this dire and dangerous situation.
Realization came slowly and then all at once. River stared at Finlay, or rather at the man standing before her, who had nothing to do with the Finlay she had once known, and she saw him for what he was.
He did this. He did all of this.
“Finlay…it’s ye, isnae it? It’s always been ye.”
“Aye, of course it’s been me,” Finlay said, as if it was obvious. “I would have spared ye, River…nay, nay…I would have cared for ye as I’ve cared for ye yer whole life. I would have kept ye safe.”
“What are ye sayin’?” River demanded. “Why are ye sayin’ all this? Why are ye doin’ all this?”
“Because we’re a traitor!” Finlay roared, and River could see a vein in his head popping, jumping to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Because ye betrayed yer maither! Ye betrayed her memory!”
River stared at him, blinking in confusion. “What do ye mean?”
Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper, barely heard over the crackling of the fire that had consumed the entire room by then. Still, River was only vaguely aware of the immediate danger in which they were, her mind flooded instead by thoughts of her mother.
“Ye’re a wee fool, are ye nae?” said Finlay with a soft laugh. “Ye’ve always been, but it was alright. It was me own fault, ye ken. I protected ye from all of it. I was the one who didnae want ye to ken anythin’ but that…maybe that made ye weak.”
Enough was enough, River decided then, and despite the fact that she didn’t want to let go of Layla, she stood to her full height and stared right into Finlay’s eyes.
“Aye, perhaps I’m sheltered,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Perhaps I daenae ken what is happenin’ around me sometimes because nae one tells me.
Because ye sheltered me. Because everyone wishes to shelter me.
But I’ll tell ye this, Finlay, and ye better remember it.
I’m nae fool. And even if I was, it doesnae take a clever person to ken ye are a vile, vile man. ”
For a moment, Finlay stared at her in silence, as if he were shocked by her words. Then, he barked out a laugh, one that sounded genuinely amused.
“Perhaps we’re right,” he said. “I was quick to label ye a fool when all ye are is naive. That…and a harlot.”
River reached up to slap him, but Finlay was too quick.
He grabbed her wrist and held it in a tight grip, so much so that River was certain she would bruise.
Still, she didn’t cry out; she didn’t make a single sound.
She only stared at him in silence and tried once to wrench her hand free, only to fail.
“Where are ye goin’?” he taunted her, a cold, terrifying grin spreading over his lips. “I daenae think we’re done here yet. We still have much to discuss, River.”
“Here?” River scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Do ye wish to die?”
“If it comes to it,” Finlay barked, and River could hardly believe her own ears.
He’s a madman! He has completely lost his mind!
“How can ye fall in love with the man who killed yer maither?” Finlay growled, his expression twisting into that of a wild animal. “How can ye…how can ye bear his bairn? Have ye nae shame? Have ye nae thought for yer maither?”
River huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Was this truly why all this was happening?
Was it all because of her mother? The woman was still torturing her from beyond the grave in more ways than one, and River, for all the love she had for her for being her mother was beginning to truly resent her—if not despise her.
“Ye’re so ungrateful, River,” Finlay continued. “I did everythin’ for ye. I kept ye safe, I protected ye, and ye…how do ye repay me? By disgracin’ yer maither’s memory?”
River wanted to ask him why he cared so much. This was beyond honor. This was beyond any vow he may have taken to protect her when he first became her guard. It took her a few moments to realize it, but then understanding dawned on her—Finlay was in love with her mother.
“Ye loved her,” River said, the words spoken on a gasp.
“Of course I loved her!” Finlay roared, and now his face was a deep shade of red, though River didn’t know whether that was from the heat of the fire or because he was so furious.
“I was the only one who loved her! Yer faither…yer faither was always with a different lass, always slippin’ into some other woman’s bed.
Ye have nae idea how many bairns he sired.
Ye have nae idea how many siblings ye have out there.
He was…he was insatiable. A sinner. He disgraced his wife, his family, his clan…
and yer maither handled it with as much grace as one could be expected to have. ”
“Grace?” River scoffed. “Ye call her killin’ innocent people grace?”
“Who was innocent in this?” Finlay demanded. “The women? I daenae think so. They were harlots, too, lettin’ a wedded man bed them. There was naethin’ innocent about them.”
“And the bairns?” River demanded. “Let us say I accept the women werenae innocent. But what about the bairns? What did they ever do to deserve it other than be born to the wrong parents?”
“I never harmed Arya and Colby,” Finlay said through gritted teeth. “It was yer wish that they were safe and I respected that. I protected them as I protected ye. I treated them as me own.”
“But ye would have let me maither harm them!” River cried. “Ye would have allowed her to kill them!”
“I would have killed them for her meself!”
River didn’t know why it was that admission which broke her in the end. To hear Finlay say those words, to hear that he would have killed Arya and Colby if only her mother had asked…it was too much.
“Ye would have harmed innocent bairns?” River asked, her voice lowering again.
“Of course,” said Finlay. “Anythin’ for yer maither. I would kill them now if I kent that’s what she wanted.”
That is what she wanted.
River glanced over Finlay’s shoulder, half expecting to see Arya and Colby there, but of course, they were long gone.
It was a small mercy. She knew that now that now that Finlay didn’t care about her at all, he wouldn’t have a single qualm about hurting them.
The only thing that had kept them alive and safe all this time, the only thing that had made Finlay tolerate them—even though River could have sworn he had loved them by the way he was acting around them—was her. Now their only shield was gone.
In the silence that followed, Finlay forced his way into the room and, like the madman he was, shut the door behind him. Suddenly, it was much harder to breathe, the air burning River’s throat, her lungs, her chest like embers.
“What are ye doin’?”
“I ken what it’s like to lose someone ye love,” he said. “Now Archer will ken it too.”
River swallowed in a dry throat, panic threatening to bubble over inside her. She couldn’t afford to panic now, though, not when she had her child and Layla to think about. She had to save them. She had to do anything in her power to delay Finlay until help would come.
She had to keep him talking.
“Why now?” River demanded. “Ye had all this time. I’ve been married to Archer for a year now…me maither’s been dead for months. Why kill me now?”
Finlay gave her a bitter laugh. “I wanted to keep ye safe, River, I truly did. Yer maither loved ye, ye ken. She loved ye dearly and she tasked me with protectin’ ye. But ye…ye also look so much like her. We’re the only thing I have left of her. We’re the only reminder I have now.”
“And yet ye’d kill me.”
“I will kill ye,” said Finlay. “I daenae take it lightly. When I kill ye, it will be with a heavy heart and I…I may as well die here, too. I may as well die here with ye.”
“What are ye sayin’?” River demanded. “Are ye listenin’ to yerself?”
“I have naethin’ to live for!” Finlay roared. “Naethin’! She’s gone and ye…ye were the only reason for me to live. And now ye have betrayed her, River, so ye must die.”
“Ye’re mad,” River said, drawing in a shaky breath that pained her lungs.
“Perhaps,” Finlay said. “But it’s better than bein’ a traitor.”
“I’m nae a traitor, Finlay!” River shouted. “Me maither, she had to be stopped! Do ye think I didnae love her? Do ye think her death didnae pain me? But what she did pained me more!”
“Ye care more about the people who hurt her than ye care about yer own maither!” Finlay said, and for a moment, it was as if River was listening to her own mother.
She had affected him greatly; she had invaded and infected every part of his mind, and now Finlay was prepared to do anything in her memory; in her honor.
“I care about what’s right!” River said, and she was glad, at least, that her plan to distract and delay Finlay seemed to be working. She had to keep him talking; she had to keep asking him questions until help got there. “Why did ye nae kill Archer, then, when me maither died? Why wait so long?”
“They would have suspected ye,” Finlay pointed out. “Had I killed him back then, everyone would think it was ye. Who else would have done it, River? Think! Everyone would blame ye and me for his death.”
“Why do ye care?” River asked. “Ye seem prepared to die.”
“Now, aye,” said Finlay. “But then, I had to protect ye. I had to continue to keep ye safe, especially if Archer was dead. I couldnae leave ye to the mercy of this clan.”
This clan would have been far more merciful to me than ye could ever be.
“But when I had the chance, I struck,” Finlay said. “I was unlucky. The Laird caught me at the last moment and he survived, but I would have killed the bastard. I would have killed him right then and there and now nae of this would be happenin’!”
River couldn’t fight the urge anymore. She was outraged, fury coursing through her and finally spilling over, and she hit him again. This time, the slap landed, but Finlay grabbed her arm once more and, with a grimace of disgust and hatred, shoved her back, forcing her to fall on the floor.
Her back collided with the hard wood, knocking her breath out of her; she didn’t have much left of it anyway, not with the fire burning everything in its path in her chambers.
The air settled heavy around her, inside her, choking her, making her dizzy.
And as she tried to stand, Finlay opened the door, bringing in a breath of fresh air.
Was that it, she wondered? Was he showing mercy? Was he letting her go?
“Be like that, then,” he said. “Be ungrateful. Die alone for all I care.”
And with that, before River could grab him or even plead with him to let her go, if not for her sake then for her child’s, Finlay was gone.
And the lock turned behind him, trapping her inside the burning room, with nothing but the ignited air in her lungs and Layla’s sleeping, bleeding form laying next to her.