Chapter Eleven
In which we ponder, what to do with Luna?
Kai…
Sweet Mother Mary and all the Saints, it’s good to be back in Glasgow.
The helicopter lightly touched down on the helipad atop MacTavish International, the - mostly - legal front for the clan’s business. About thirty minutes into the two-hour flight, Luna fell asleep on my shoulder, prompting knowing winks from Michael and my brother Logan, who knew I’d punch him in the throat if he gave me any shite about it.
I still haven’t decided what to do with her. But that’s a thought for another day. I’ll get her settled and deal with the shitestorm from the outcome of the mission.
“Luna lass, open your eyes now, we’re here.” It’s almost a shame to wake her up. A little smile is curving her pretty mouth, and she looks at peace for the first time since I spotted her on that surveillance video. Abruptly and suddenly awake, she stiffens and pulls away from me.
“Where’s here?” she asks, leaning over me to look out the window.
“Let me help ya out,” I say, gently lifting her down from the helicopter. Everyone’s giving us space, which means they know she’s not gonna take this well.
“I’ve never seen this part of London,” she murmurs, rubbing her eyes.
“Ah, well. We’re not in London. This is Glasgow.”
Eyes open wide, she turns in a circle, looking at the city skyline. “But… I thought we were heading to London, not another country! Why are we here?”
“My family lives here. There’s a metric tonne of shite to go through regarding the mission. My Chieftain is not completely happy with the results,” I admit, rubbing the back of my head. “Give yourself a moment, aye? We’ll put everything right again.”
“But I have to get back to the hostel in London! What if they throw my luggage out? I can’t be in Glasgow!” Looking down, she remembers that she’s in a pair of dirty shorts and my sweater. “With no clothes or ID or money, or…” She laces her hands over her head, pacing back and forth.
Ah, I canna help the unwelcome softness I feel, lookin’ at her anxious face. I dinna like being soft. It weakens me to feel like this. “We’ll message them right away to hold your luggage and sort out the passport situation. For now, I can offer a shower and some clean clothes stolen from one of my cousins. Catriona likely is already planning for that.” She still looks worried. “I’ll sweeten the pot: dinner that dinna include bullets, poison, or protein paste.”
“You had me at the food with none of that creepy protein glue,” she says gratefully. “Lead on, Wally.”
“Pardon?” My cousin turns, looking confused.
“Wally,” she follows me into the lift. “My deeply appreciative nickname for your cousin here.”
Everyone crowded into the lift with us starts laughing.
“Well, my name is Wallace,” he says crossly, “and no one who values their life calls me Wally. Just hearin’ it makes my teeth ache.”
“Oh!” Luna says apologetically, “ You’re cousin Wally? Crap. sorry. I’ll find some other nickname for your cousin, here.”
“Oh, as his brother, I can give ya a list of his childhood nicknames,” Logan offers helpfully, cutting off abruptly as my elbow accidentally hits his sternum.
Luna watches this little exchange with narrowed eyes. As we exit the lift, she leans over to him. “Let’s talk later.”
He gives a hoarse croak of approval.
“What the feck happened there? Why did you abort the mission?” The Chieftain of the MacTavish Mafia is not happy with me.
“There was no choice,” I say coldly. “The Lords decided to dip into human trafficking. I canna sit back and watch women being raped, mission or no.”
“The data we got from your listening devices was good,” he admits. “We intercepted two deliveries of chemicals needed for compounding the gas, so we know they hadn’t finished the first batch yet. Where was the lab?”
“I tracked the location to a mechanic’s shed by their helicopter pad this morning. The lab was underneath it, but it was empty,” I say regretfully. “They must have had just enough advance warning to get off the island.”
“They won’t be coming back for anything. The C4 we planted took out every structure above and underground on that island. The force of the blast was so great that it flattened trees on a nearby peninsula,” Michael says proudly. The man loves his explosives.
“Any residual gas from the initial demolition of the lab dissipated within ten minutes,” I add. “We placed an anonymous call to Interpol regarding dangerous chemical activity. Investigators are already on the scene, but they’re kitted out properly for a chemical spill, just in case.”
“That part is well done, lads.” Cormac leans forward, his eyes blazing. “But when ya tapped that watch of yours for immediate intervention, we dinna have the full force ready. Richard Fecking Armstrong made it off the island with the chemists and the nerve gas formula. He’s in the wind.”
There’s a collective groan around the table, and I feel guilt swirling in my chest. Nonetheless, I’ll never regret protecting Luna and her friend.
“We have his father in custody,” I point out. “With some persuasion, I’m sure he can lead us to Richard.”
“Those two have a father-son relationship that’s as warm and caring as the Almighty and Lucifer’s,” Da says regretfully. “Word is out on the dark web. Richard’s taking bids for the formula, the little bastard. I dinna think he’ll give it up for his sperm donor’s safe return.”
“I thought Deacon was the more dangerous of the two,” I admit. “Richard escaping our men and with the nerve gas formula was not a factor I ruled in for the rescue. But we do have Grayson in custody. Extracting enough information to track down his skobie of a son is surely possible.”
“Not if the other four families involved are hiding Richard,” Uncle Cormac says. I know he’s angry. I called in the cavalry too soon. But I also know any other man or woman at this table would have done the same thing.
“I dinna fulfill my mission.” I stand up from the table, nodding respectfully. “I submit myself for punishment.”
“Sit your arse down, ya eejit,” Uncle Cormac scolds me. “Ya did well with what time ya had. I likely would have lost my patience and killed ‘em all the second day in. We have intel and a hostage. Let’s take a break, all of ya head home and get some sleep. Lachlan’s having a chat with Armstrong as we speak.”
“It is possible that I might be feeling a wee bit sorry for the poor bastard,” Wallace says. “I’ve seen Uncle Lachlan in action.”
“It’s nothing Armstrong dinna deserve,” Da says. “We’ll meet again in the morning after Georges and Xenia have combed through the data they pulled before we incinerated the island.”
Uncle Cormac’s gaze turns to Catriona. “There is an undisputable law in the MacTavish Clan. We dinna kill women. Why did you poison them, too?”
Cat’s always been a fierce little thing, and she looks her father right in the eye. “Those girls lured Luna and her friend to that island. After those fecking Lords were finished with them, they would have sold them off. We already found the email Armstrong sent to a potential buyer with roots deep in human trafficking. It would have happened again. And again.” Father and daughter are staring each other down as the rest of us lean back slightly to stay out of the way of the energy crackling between them.
“I will always judge women more harshly,” Catriona says, “because we are better than men. I stopped them from destroying any more lives, and I will never be sorry for it. Chieftain,” she adds hastily.
The stare down continues until Uncle Cormac nods. “Last question. What’s the likelihood that Richard knows we’re responsible?”
“Not high,” I say. “The Lords never questioned my identity, and we destroyed all the video footage in the house.”
He nods with a smile. “Off ya go, then. We’ll talk in the morning.”
My arsehole cousins might give me shite for my haste in returning to Luna, though no one can disagree that she deserves some careful handling right now.
“Have ya ordered Luna a new passport, then?” Logan’s dropping me off at my place.
“We’ve been off the island for less than six hours,” I say sourly. “I’ve been a wee bit busy, brother.”
He laughs in a way that makes me want to elbow him in the chest again. “Admit that you dinna want to. She’s bonnie, that one.”
“More than,” I agree. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in an age, though it’s her fierceness that makes her irresistible.
Feck. I’m gettin’ hard just thinking about her.
Willing my cock to go down, I throw my keys on the table in the front hall. The girls are cackling, and I follow the sound into the great room.
Ah, shite. Catriona brought out the troops. She and Luna are laughing uncontrollably on one of the couches while my cousins Maisie and Sloan fold a pile of clothes they’ve brought for her. I notice four bottles of my Bo?rl it’s in the fridge.”
“Good lass,” I say, watching her face turn even redder.
“Aaaand, that’s our cue to leave,” Sloan says, rising and hauling a giggling Maisie up with her. “Luna’s set for clothes for a while, and we brought some makeup and other girl stuff as well.” She shakes her head sadly. “This man leads a tragic bachelor life, Luna. It’s a miracle he didn’t rip out all the toilets and just install urinals in all the bathrooms.”
“Not a good visual after a big meal,” Luna says. “I’ll go… uh… heat up your food.”
My cousins make as much noise as possible exiting my house, and I’m left with a half-drunk Luna and enough clothes to set up a dress shop.
Skobie - Scottish slang for an utter bastard