Chapter Twenty
Kirk
In the morning, I wake to the titillating sight of Gretchen slithering up my body with her tits brushing against my skin.
My cock begins to rouse immediately, begging for the feel of her slick folds enveloping me.
She's just coiled her tongue around my nipple when I notice an odd shadow in the far corner of the bedroom. A shadow that slithers about.
Then the shadow chuckles.
And I abruptly realize what's happening. I leap out of bed, tossing the covers over Gretchen as I stalk toward the intruder, not bothering to grab a robe. The second I reach the bastard, he chuckles again.
I wrap both hands around the neck of Dougal MacWraith.
"What the bloody hell are you doing in my flat?" I demand, my fingers digging into his throat. The fury coursing through me is white-hot and primal, like a lion about to murder his nemesis. "Breaking and entering is a crime, even for scum like you."
Dougal doesn't flinch, even with my hands around his throat. His eyes flick past me to where Gretchen lies huddled under the covers, and his lips curl into a smirk that makes my fists curl and my jaw tighten.
"Just checking in on the happy couple," MacWraith wheezes. "Time's up, Balfour. I came to collect what you owe me."
Behind me, I hear Gretchen's sharp intake of breath. As I tighten my hold, I feel Dougal's pulse jump beneath my fingers.
"Get. Out," I snarl, shoving him toward the door. He catches his balance with infuriating grace with that same malicious smirk still plastered on his face.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Dougal warns while straightening his jacket. "Not when I have so much leverage."
As much as I want to beat him until his skull cracks open and his own mother wouldn't recognize him, I know that's just what he wants---for me to crack.
The rage inside me is a living thing, clawing at my insides, demanding release.
But I know better than to give in. Dougal thrives on chaos---specifically mine.
I glare at him. "You have ten seconds to explain why I shouldn't call the police."
Behind me, I hear the rustle of sheets as Gretchen sits up. "Why is that demonic asshole in the bedroom with us?"
Dougal's eyes light up at the sound of her voice. "Ah, the lovely American. I didnae get a proper introduction last time. I am Dougal MacWraith." He bows with exaggerated formality, his eyes never leaving mine. "I believe we met briefly on the mountain."
"Get the hell out of our bedroom," Gretchen hisses through clenched teeth, clutching the sheet tighter around her chest.
"Our bedroom?" Dougal's brows shoot up in mock surprise. "My, my, things have progressed quickly. Last I heard, you were staying at the Loch Fairbairn Arms."
The cacan leans to the side, trying to get a better look at the lass.
I shift my position to shield Gretchen from Dougal's leering gaze.
Despite the rage roiling within me, I'll be damned if I show any weakness in front of him.
I'm acutely aware of my nakedness, but somehow it makes me feel more powerful---primal and unrestrained, ready to tear this bastard limb from limb if he takes another step toward Gretchen.
"You've delivered your message," I growl. "Now get out before I throw you out the window."
Dougal clucks his tongue, completely unfazed by my threat.
"Such hostility, Balfour. And here I thought we were friends.
" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper.
"I've brought the terms of our arrangement.
I believe you'll find them quite reasonable, considering the circumstances. "
I snatch the paper from his hand, fighting the urge to crumple it and jam the thing down his sodding throat.
As I scan the document, the blood in my veins turns to ice.
The terms are worse than I imagined. Not only money, but a demand for my services at his underground fight club for six months.
And a clause about Gretchen that makes my vision blur with rage.
"This is insane, Dougal." I tear the paper in half. "You've lost your mind if you think I'd agree to any of this."
Dougal sighs, as if I'm a disappointing child. "I thought you might say that." He pulls out his mobile, tapping the screen with casual indifference. "Remember young Kenny? Sweet lad. Would be a shame if his scholarship to Edinburgh were suddenly...revoked."
The threat lands like a physical blow. Kenny's future, all his hard work---I cannae let Dougal destroy that because the lad made a terrible mistake. Trusting MacWraith was his worst mistake.
"And it's not just Kenny, is it?" Dougal continues, his voice honey smooth.
"Your family might hit a rough patch if certain financial issues came to light, especially for your brother Tam.
Perhaps Neil as well. All I need do is fabricate a bit of evidence showing one or both of them cheated on their taxes, and of course, the damage would be done before the truth emerged. "
"You're a dead man, MacWraith." I stomp him until we're nearly nose to nose.
Dougal doesn't flinch. "Violence won't solve your problems, Balfour. It never has." His gaze flicks toward Gretchen again. "Perhaps your lovely American would like to hear about our arrangement in full? About how you agreed to deliver her to me if I kept certain secrets?"
"That's a lie," I hiss, my body coiled tight as a spring. "I never agreed to any such thing."
Gretchen makes a strangled noise behind me, and I can feel her gaze burning into my back. The thought of her believing even for a second that I'd trade her like chattel makes me sick.
"Is it, though?" Dougal's lips curl. "Your memory seems rather selective, Balfour. Perhaps we should ask the lass what she thinks about all this."
"Get out," I repeat, my voice deadly calm now. The kind of calm that precedes violence. "You have ten seconds before I throw you through that door."
Dougal sighs dramatically, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "I'll give you until tomorrow to reconsider. And do think carefully about your options." His attention flicks to Gretchen one more time. "Such a pretty thing. It would be a shame if something happened to her."
The threat coils around my chest like barbed wire. I clench my hands into fists, turning the knuckles white. "If you touch her, I'll gut you like a fish."
"So predictable." Dougal steps back, heading toward the door with that same infuriating calm. "I'll be at the Cross Keys tomorrow at noon. Dinnae be late."
He slips out before I can lunge for him, the door clicking shut behind him with maddening softness. For a moment, I stand here frozen wishing I could beat him into submission.
When I turn back to Gretchen, her face is pale, her eyes wide. The sheet is still clutched to her chest like armor. "Did you make a deal with him? About me?"
"Never." I stalk back to the bed. My hands are still shaking. "The man's a fucking liar. I would never trade you or anyone else to that monster."
Gretchen searches for something in my eyes. I hold her gaze, letting her see everything---my fury, my fear, and most importantly, my honesty.
"I believe you." Her shoulders sag. "But Kirk, what the hell is going on? How did he get in here?"
I thrust a hand through my hair, pacing now, unable to remain still with the energy thrumming through me. "MacWraith has connections everywhere, and he knows my Achilles' heel is Kenny. The poor laddie doesnae deserve what Dougal has done to him."
Gretchen sits up, barring her arms over her chest. "And what about you? Dougal's got a serious hard-on for ruining your life."
"Dinnae worry about me."
"Telling me that won't make it true."
"Aye, but there's nothing I can do about MacWraith right now." A breath blusters out of me. "I've got more jobs lined up, and the first is this evening."
She lifts her brows. "A nighttime stunt? Ooh, I've got to see that."
I smirk at the lass. "It's not just a nighttime stunt. It's the most dangerous one I've attempted in years."
Gretchen's eyes widen. "More dangerous than jumping a motorcycle across a river?"
"Aye. This one involves fire, explosives, and a blindfold."
She gawps at me as if I've just announced I'm planning to swim to the moon. "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding."
I gawps at me, but my mind is already calculating angles and timing.
"It's for a film that's shooting near Aonach Eagach, which is a difficult mountain ridge that marks the norther side of Glencoe.
The director is a mate, and he wants something spectacular for the climax---something that'll have audiences gripping their seats. "
"And you volunteered to risk your life?" Her jaw drops, and she shakes her head. "After what just happened? With Dougal lurking who knows where?"
"Relax, gràidh. I can handle MacWraith, and I can handle a cliff jump too."
She flattens her lips, blustering air out through her nostrils. "How dangerous, Kirk. Tell me now. I need the details."
"All right. But ye may not like what ye hear."