Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
F reya
Though cold, the sun is out, making for a glorious crisp day. I’m still shocked I got him to consent to allowing us to walk this mile. Of course, a little Freya magic helped.
While getting dressed this morning, I conducted some research, tearing a page out of a local travel magazine. Hoping it would sway him, I handed the printout to him as we pulled away from the castle. Timing was part of my earlier caffeine-inspired plan; that way, he wouldn’t have too much time to overthink.
“Look!” I pressed brightly. “We have to walk the Royal Mile ourselves, with guards scattered around us, of course. Driving up to the castle will not do. It’s not the true tourist experience.”
“Walk? Hmm…” His brow is knitted in a firm no.
I pushed the glossy magazine page into his hands. “Here. Read this before you decide. Ken?”
He took the paper, scanning the words.
The Royal Mile, spanning 1.81 km and linking the iconic Edinburgh Castle to the majestic Palace of Holyroodhouse, is a happening hangout spot in the heart of Edinburgh's Old Town. As you stroll down its cobblestone lanes, you'll come across all sorts of cool stuff just waiting to be discovered:
You've got the impressive St Giles' Cathedral, standing tall and proud like a history buff whose intricate architecture tells tales of days gone by.
But wait, there's more! Underneath the bustling street lies The Real Mary King's Close, a hidden world full of twisty alleys and snaking staircases that spill secrets from ancient times.
Feeling fancy? Head to the Scottish Storytelling Centre to get lost in tales of dragons and knights and maybe even a modern-day legend or two.
And don't forget about the sleek and modern Scottish Parliament building - a far cry from the traditional buildings but representing the city's hip and trendy vibe.
While cars are still allowed on this road, it's mostly meant for leisurely strolling, so ditch your wheels and take in all the sights and sounds on foot.
Trust us, it’s dead brilliant this way!
The article was a little cheesy, but as he read, his brow eased. Craving a little freedom after being restricted to the grounds of Wee Inverness, I crossed my fingers as he returned the paper, saying he was intrigued and would chat with security. I gave him a pre-emptive thank you kiss on the cheek for good measure.
Now, walking the Royal Mile together, hand in hand, the sun warming my icy cheeks, I can’t hold back my beaming smile. I’m a perfectly dressed tourist in my own country, with a handsome, frisky man at my side.
Crowds surround us on the street as we gather at the end of the sidewalk to cross over and reach the steep, curving cobblestone road leading us to the brown-and-gray stone castle.
A man stands opposite, facing us from the side of the road to which we are waiting to cross. My eyes pick him out of the crowd because of the toddler he holds. Her hair is dark, almost black—the opposite of mine. In contrast to her dark hair, her skin is porcelain.
The man seems jittery, bouncing the girl on his hip as he stares at the crowd of us waiting opposite him. His eyes are steady and calculating. He spots something, seemingly just behind me.
His face drains of color. I snap my head over my shoulder to see what he’s looking at, but it’s only a crowd of faces. I turn back to him to find his face filled with fear.
I want a better look. I perch my sunglasses on top of my head. His gaze lands on mine.
My heart lurches into my throat. His eyes are pale blue. Ice blue. Too light. Only then do I see the dark vine tattoo creeping up the side of his neck.
The man from the club .
Fredrick stands beside me, unaware of any of this, grumbling something to himself about crowds.
“It’s him.” My voice comes out in a whisper. I tug Fredrick’s hand, raising my voice. “The man from Level Z.”
He instantly focuses. “Where?”
“There, across the street. The one with the light blue eyes and the vine tattoo on his neck. The one the bartender took away.”
He pushes a button at his ear, informing the guards of what I’ve seen, saying a name I’ve never heard: Ross Macdonald. He waits for a beat, listening for their instructions, then says, “They say move forward. They’ve spotted two members of the Hoax just behind us. They don’t think they have any idea we’re here. They think they are here for Ross.”
Fredrick’s hand presses protectively against my lower back. I think of that night when he tried to speak to me, and the bartender whisked him away. What did he want to tell me?
Now, the crowd is pushing against us, an unstoppable flow of migrating pack animals heading straight to him.
I feel safe with Fredrick and his team, his arm wrapping around my shoulders as we move. I don’t take my eyes off the man. Ross Macdonald only stops staring at me long enough to whisper down to the baby, kissing her head before focusing back on me.
He’s almost upon us. The way he’s staring at me with such intention, I can’t imagine what he wants from me. What do I do? “Do we just keep walking?”
“Yes. We must act relaxed and continue on our path to avoid bringing attention to ourselves. The guards have us covered.”
I wait for the man to pass me, but instead, so quickly neither Fredrick nor I can react, the man presses his heat and weight against me, then is gone from our sight.
And in my arms…
A dark-haired baby stares up at me, confusion in her island sky-blue eyes. Holding her light, warm weight against my chest, I realize she’s smaller and younger than I first thought.
Fredrick’s voice echoes around me. “What on Earth? Where has he gone?”
I can’t stop in the middle of the street, so I keep moving.
In my shock, my body reacts on its own. I wrap my arms tighter around the child, shifting her weight to hold her as securely as possible. I smooth her hair, whispering to her, “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
“What in the world?” Fredrick says again. We’re on the sidewalk now, our guards surrounding us. The men quickly usher us off the sidewalk and back to the road, where there’s a waiting Escalade.
They start to usher me and the baby into the back seat. I hover outside the door to glance around. “Wait! Where’s her father?”
Fredrick puts a hand on my shoulder, wanting me to get in the SUV. “He’s being pursued by two men we identified as members of the Hoax.”
“Should we help him?” I stare down at the beauty in my arms. “He is her father. ”
“No. Absolutely not. I will not put you in danger.” His eyes shift to the street. “We haven’t even decided if we should take the girl.”
She chooses this moment to stare up at me, giving me a tiny smile. So young. A wee bit older than a year?
“Not take her with us? I’m still trying to figure out how to save her father.”
“We need to do what security deems best for you.” He hovers around me, one hand on me, the other on top of the car’s door, creating a protective cocoon around me and the baby while he waits for confirmation.
“We’re absolutely taking her with us.” Acting as her armor, I curve my body around her tiny one, sliding us into the safety of the back seat of the Escalade. Without arguing, Fredrick scans the road around us, then follows suit, sitting beside me.
His hand is on the handle of the car door, ready to close it, when we hear the gunshot. The noise is distant yet undeniable. Gasps and shouts from the street follow the terrifying sound.
The baby, blissfully unaware, quickly adapts to her surroundings. She tugs on the end of my scarf, intrigued by its soft cashmere fringe.
The door is closed, and the Escalade pulls from the curb.
My heart lunges into my throat. Her father is dead. “That…was him.”
“More than likely.” Fredrick wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight against his side. He offers me the strength I do not have as I hold this precious life in my arms, knowing her entire world has been destroyed at this moment.
I force myself not to react, smiling down at the baby as tears sting my eyes. To my side, I catch Fredrick making the quiet motions of the sign of the cross, kissing his fingertips as he finishes, then glancing up at heaven.
He’s praying for her father.
The tears well.
The baby looks up at me, eyeing the strands of shiny pearls I wear around my neck. Gleefully, she gently tugs on the necklace, blissfully unaware of what's happening around us as she purses her rosebud lips, soundlessly blowing bubbles.
She has no idea…
I quickly wipe a tear from my cheek. “Aren’t you a clever girl?”
She’s so quiet, not even jumping at the sound of the gun. Something flips in my gut; I feel off-center, prickly heat dancing over the back of my neck. “She can’t hear.”
“What do you mean?” Fredrick asks.
Traffic starts back up, and we pull forward, the car lurching forward as the driver accelerates.
“Gunshots. Mayhem on the street, and look.” I nod at the baby, who playfully blows bubbles, fingertips now at her rosy lips. “She’s serene. She hasn’t made a sound.”
Studying her face, he leans forward, his arm shifting but remaining on my shoulder as he takes his fingers to her ear and snaps. Twice. The baby looks at him and laughs.
Relieved she reacted to the sound of his snapping, I push his hand away. “Don’t do that! She’s not a dog.”
“It’s a simple test. And it worked. I wanted to put your mind at ease.” His arm slides away from my shoulder. “I’m pragmatic.”
We sit there in silence, in shock, and let the weight of the gunshot sink in.
Staring down at the sweet girl, I stroke her silky hair. “We should have gone back.”
“Absolutely not.” His voice is tight. “I’ll never willingly put you in danger.”
My hackles rise. “But what about the wee one? She’s got no father now.”
“If we’d gone back for the father who, for all intents and purposes…” His voice trails off as he stares at the baby. There’s compassion in his voice. “He was already gone. We could have put her in more danger.”
As he said, he’s pragmatic. He snapped his fingers because it was the quickest way to ease my mind. And the silent prayer…I’ve always had a soft spot for a strong man turning to God in a moment of weakness.
I tell my anger to cool itself.
“You’re right, Fredrick, we couldn’t go back. I’m sorry.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “Thank you for your protection.”
“Ma chérie.” He kisses the top of my head. “Don’t apologize. If you didn’t want to try and save him, you wouldn’t be you. ”
“It’s the islander in me. Leave no one behind.” Only they left me, didn’t they? I stare down at the baby, my pain tripling for her.
Together, we stare at the precious little girl as she tires. Slowly, her body weight increases, and her breathing slows. Her wee head rests on my chest, using my down coat as a pillow. Her thick lashes flutter. A moment later, she’s fast asleep.
I have no idea how to care for a child. I wasn’t like Fiona or the other girls on the island, babysitting loads of little cousins when their mothers had things to attend to or a knitting circle.
I was always out. Rolling my uniform skirt up higher and smoking ciggies behind the school. Or riding on the back of the motorcycle of the town’s “bad boy,” Bayne, who at the time happened to be my brother’s arch nemesis but is now happily married.
Or I was getting older kids to buy me alcohol until I was finally the older kid and could take the bus down to the closest thing that passed for an actual town and party at the pubs.
With Callum only being fifteen months my junior, we were more like twins rather than having the typical older-younger sibling relationship.
Even if I don’t know what I’m doing, I instantly connect to this little girl.
I commit to myself and her that I will figure it out, that as long as she’s in our care, we will provide for her every need. Now, this little girl is my priority .
As far as the wedding, the renovations, and the ongoing friction between Fredrick and me, as my grandma used to say, it’ll keep.
There are more pressing issues at hand.
Like figuring out her name, who she is, where she comes from, and God and my poor little heart forbid—finding other family members to give her back to.
If we do find them, will they be a part of the terrible people-trafficking ring, the Hoax? Will she be safe? There’s no way Ross could have known I would be there today, that I would cross that sidewalk at that moment.
Has fate brought us this wee precious girl?