Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
C allum
She’s saved both cards and a bloom from each of the vases of flowers I sent her. She’s going to dry them, compiling them all into a bouquet. I request to see the second card. Wrapping a throw blanket around her naked body, she pads off barefoot to fetch it.
“I’ll just go and get it from my keepsake box,” she tells me, leaving me with a sweet smile.
Quickly, I put my pants back on, sinking into the sofa, waiting for her to return. She comes back, handing it to me before curling up beside me. The moment I see the paper, I know who sent it and why.
The “X” at the bottom isn’t a symbol for a kiss.
It’s for the Hoax .
See you soon Fiona
It’s a warning.
It means they are threatening to make direct contact with her in the near future, maybe even attempt to abduct her. My blood boils at the thought. My heartbeat thrums in my eardrums, my pulse accelerating. I’ll be dead before I let them lay one finger on my Fiona.
I was out of my head the night she and Freya snuck off because I’d had contact with the gang—notecards like this one. Black “X’s” spray-painted on outer walls. For the past eighteen months, while Freya and I have been living here, I’ve been planning with my men, finding a way to weaken them.
They were quiet.
But now, they’re starting to feel more comfortable with my presence. It’s time for my gang to put the plan we’ve been carefully constructing in motion. Would we like more time? Aye. Do we have more time?
No.
The time to act is now. It’s after one in the morning now. We strike tonight.
I’ve only just got her back. I can’t risk losing her now. “Listen.” I take her into my arms. “I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to stay close to home for a bit.”
“How close?” she asks.
“Inside these walls.”
She tilts her lovely face up to me. “Why?”
“The note,” I say. “I’m afraid it’s a warning. ”
“Freya and I just saw Chicago at the King’s Theater, and I loved it so much she’s bought tickets for Wicked for next Saturday?—”
“You shan’t be going. I’m sorry.” I grab her hands in mine. “You’re everything to me. You and Freya both. I won’t see you being put in harm’s way. You’ve taught me patience and love, and now, you’ll have to exercise both.”
“I’ll give the tickets to Kitt and Carol Ann.”
“Thank you.” I cup her face in my hand. “I promise you’ll get to go to all the places you love and see every flipping show on Broadway. Just not right now.”
“I understand.” She brushes a kiss over my cheek. “And thank you for keeping us all safe.”
“It’s my job, taking care of you two and protecting the women on the island. I’m honored, and it’s the only job I’ve ever been good at.”
“You’re great at it.” She gives me a sweet kiss on my lips. “And I speak for all the wee lassies on the island when I say we appreciate all you do for us.”
“Come. Let’s get you to bed.”
It’s been a hell of a day. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her off to bed. She’s just about asleep as I lay her down, covering her with blankets.
I shower. Grab a few hours of troubled sleep. Kiss her good morning way before the sun comes up. And I’m off to work. I wake Bayne, telling him the plane will be waiting for him at sunrise. I add extra guards to each shift. Then, I call my men to gather .
We meet in the Great Hall; this time, it's sunshine and coffee, not torchlight and whisky.
I pull Declan and Fredrick aside while we wait for Bayne to arrive from the island, having them fill me in on their latest intel. Bayne comes in, looking a bit peely-wally, fresh off the wee plane we use to travel between here and the island.
The B there are no assurances we’ll all make it back safely.
I run my hand over my stubbled chin as he continues, his voice low but resolute. "We can start by targeting their warehouse, disrupting their operations from the inside out. Make it harder for them to carry out their despicable trade."
“It’s the best way.” Fredrick nods in approval.
As a businessman, he knows that hitting them where it hurts the most—their profits—will be a devastating blow. My men exchange knowing glances, a silent communication passing between them as they gear up for the task ahead.
"We'll need to move swiftly and quietly," I say, my voice steady and commanding. "No room for error. The element of surprise will be our greatest weapon."
Declan's gaze flickers with determination, his mind already racing with strategies to execute the plan. "I'll gather a team to scout their warehouse tonight," he declares, his voice confident and unwavering. "We'll ensure it's clear before we strike."
“Aye.” I nod. “Other than a guard or two, I don’t want casualties.”
Hopefully, it won’t come to that.
It’d mean a full-blown war.
No more eager than me to lose lives, Bayne nods. “Agreed.”
We have several Irishmen on our team, members of the IRA and well-trained from the riots in the 90s in making explosives. They’ve turned their allegiance to us. They live by their own code, deciding right from wrong on their own, unbothered by the laws of the land. They’re fierce, clever, and have a deep hatred for sex trafficking. They spend the day working their fingers to the bone, preparing our explosives.
As night falls, a cloak of darkness shrouds our movements as we approach the warehouse where the Hoax stores their illicit goods.
The air is tense, and each footstep we take is deliberate and calculated as we navigate the shadows.
Silent as ghosts, my team and I move with practiced precision, ensuring that every corner is clear before we set our plan into motion. The warehouse looms before us like a behemoth, its walls stained with the sins of those who have worked within, although no one is on site tonight.
With a nod from Declan, the explosives are set in place, a network of charges carefully positioned to bring the structure down upon itself. My heart hammers in my chest as the moment of truth arrives, a bead of sweat trickling down my temple. I take a deep breath, steadying myself for the explosion that will, hopefully, put an end to their wicked trade.
The air crackles with anticipation as we take a final step back from the warehouse, eyes fixed on the ticking time bomb we've wired. There's no turning back now; we've committed ourselves to this course of action.
Bayne’s gaze meets mine. “We protect our own.”
“Aye,” I agree.
His face is determined, his eyes burning with a fierce conviction that we will succeed. I return his gaze, knowing that we both share the same unspoken thought: this is not just about hitting their profits but sending a message—a clear warning to anyone daring to try to harm Fiona or Kitt or any woman from our island.
Our women are off-limits.
With a countdown in unison, we take cover, hearts pounding in rhythm with the night.
Three...two...one...
The explosion shakes the earth, sending shards of concrete flying into the sky. A loud roar fills the air, drowning out any other sound as the warehouse crumbles into a heap of rubble. A plume of smoke rises from the wreckage.
Victory!
As the dust settles, we emerge from our cover, surveying the destruction we've wrought. There's a sense of relief and satisfaction for a moment, but it's quickly replaced by grim determination. Our work is still ongoing; we must continue dismantling their operation piece by piece, eventually leaving no room for them to rebuild .
Bayne and I come together for a brief embrace. He was once my rival. Now, he’s my brother.
In the aftermath of the explosion, we hear sirens, signaling the authorities are arriving to secure the scene of the crime. As we sneak into the night, running like teens, I almost laugh, thinking of the second explosion I’d have to unleash tonight…
The blonde bomb I’d have to set on those poor policemen if I were to get caught.
After all, my lawyer is the fiercest in Glasgow.