Chapter 22 Tierney
The muscles in the back of my thighs made themselves known with a pulling ache as I climbed the hill to my B and B with coffee in hand.
Two black Americanos — one for me, one for Ramsay.
Last night, Ramsay had pushed my thighs to my chest as he fucked me.
It looked like I’d need to restart Pilates if he was going to be bending me into different positions like that.
It was three days after we’d started our affair.
The day after our first night, I was sore enough from taking him that I needed a twenty-four-hour reprieve.
Ramsay had looked so cocky about this, I wanted to smack the smirk right off his face and then ride him, despite the ache between my legs.
Instead, I’d kissed him like I wanted to fuck him but wouldn’t and he’d glowered at me afterward, knowing exactly my game.
The last two nights, however, we were back in business. I’d spent my evenings on Stòr being thoroughly distracted from the shitstorm of my life by the dirtiest, most thrilling sex I’d ever had.
In fact, I didn’t know how I’d ever return to normal sex after this.
Would I have to have that awkward conversation with potential future partners—that I liked to give up control when it came to sex? That I liked to be ordered around and have filthy words whispered in my ear? That I liked to be spanked?
How did you even bring something like that up?
And surely it defeated the purpose to have to train my future partner to give me what I wanted in bed.
The very thought of being with anyone after Ramsay nauseated me.
Wasn’t that a blaring alarm bell I shouldn’t ignore?
Yet I did, in favor of enjoying my current favorite method of escapism.
Ramsay had dropped me off at my apartment this morning so I could change my clothes (I’d already showered with him, and let’s just say things got a whole lotta dirty before they got clean) and check my emails while he continued onto the B and B.
I had a bunch of texts from Cammie to whom I’d confessed.
I’d quickly responded, planning to meet her this afternoon for a catch-up.
It had only been two hours since I’d seen Ramsay, and yet butterflies fluttered to life in my belly at the thought of seeing him again.
Those butterflies dropped dead as soon as I cleared the brow of the hill and saw Quinn talking to a guy in a suit in my large driveway.
That guy was Hugh.
What the hell was he doing here?
Blood whooshed in my ears. Not from fear. Not from mere annoyance.
From actual fury that this unwanted blast from my past was intruding on my new life. The very idea of his slimy ass anywhere near my island made me want to rip off his nuts. I marched toward him and Quinn. “What are you doing here?” I yelled accusingly.
The two men turned to face me.
Hugh looked immaculate in his three-piece suit, his hair quaffed to perfection. Skin smooth from weekly facials. Nails clipped and buffed and filed by the same aesthetician. He looked expensive. I knew without moving closer he smelled expensive too.
Yet Quinn towered over him by a couple of inches and a lot of bulk, his stubble screaming he needed a shave, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes from laughter and life, and his clothes and hands dusty and dirty from construction.
To me, my contractor looked like a million bucks and Hugh a snivelly little eel who needed to slither back from where he came from in his three-thousand-dollar suit.
My ex’s expression hardened. “Me? Where the hell were you last night? The hotel owner said you lived on Main Street, but I got no answer and there were no lights on in your apartment.”
My tone was filled with contempt. “You’re stalking me now? Did the not answering your calls and blocking your number three times not send a clear enough message?”
Quinn’s expression darkened. “See, I knew when he told me he was your boyfriend, there had to be a mistake.”
Horror suffused me. “What? What reality are you living in?” I seethed at Hugh in disbelief. “No, Quinn, he’s the slime who cheated on me back in New York. I dumped his ass almost a year ago, and he’s been harassing me for the last few months. I have no idea what he’s doing here now.”
Hugh let out an exasperated huff. “I’m here to bring you back where you belong. I gave you time. What I didn’t give you was permission to fuck off to Scotland and buy a piece of shit building on a fucking forgotten island!”
Was he insane?
I took a step toward Quinn, my hands clenched so tightly around the coffee cups, they leaked over the lid, dripping hot liquid down my hands.
“Permission? I broke up with you and even before that, I didn’t belong to you.
I’m a free person who doesn’t need permission from a spoiled brat who has never heard the word no in his life. ”
“We were only on a break, and you took off for Scotland. Despite that, I still came all the way here for you.” He stepped toward me. “I’ve been patient. And this is how you treat me?”
“You’re a narcissist,” I whispered hoarsely, realizing there was no arguing with him. It was unbelievable to me that he’d made up this rhetoric about us in his mind. “You should probably see someone about that.”
“You little—”
Quinn stepped in front of me, his tone threatening. “Take one more step toward her and I’ll bury you in concrete.”
A flush of gratitude moved through me.
“Look, you don’t understand the situation here.” Hugh spoke calmly now. “Tierney has been mentally unwell since her parents’ death. I’m looking out for her.”
“You bastard!” I dumped the coffee on the ground and then tried to shove past Quinn to punch this prick, but he held me back. “Breaking up with you does not constitute a mental health issue, Hugh. I didn’t want to be with you anymore!”
He smirked. “No. But giving up millions of your inheritance constitutes it. So, unless you want me to petition the courts to place you under a conservatorship—which you know I’m perfectly capable of making happen—you’re coming back with me.
But first, you’re going to tell me where you were last night. ”
“She was with me.”
We all turned as Ramsay crossed the driveway and didn’t stop his slow, menacing stride until mere inches separated him and Hugh. My ex had to take a step back and had the good sense to look nervous.
“Hugh Inchcolm. Heir to Pioneer Motors.” Ramsay shocked me with his knowledge of who Hugh was. “Did I just hear you threaten Silver?”
“This?” Hugh spat at me. “You traded me for this?”
Ramsay’s hand flashed out so fast, none of us saw it coming.
He gripped Hugh by the throat and his feet scrabbled like a cartoon character’s as Ramsay carried him across the drive to slam him against his Defender.
Quinn held me back as Ramsay shoved his face in Hugh’s.
My ex looked terrified, his perfect hair mussed and falling over his forehead.
“I know who you are, boy. I know what secrets are in your closet. And unless you want the police reopening the investigation into Michelle Schull’s overdose … you’ll forget you know Silver.”
Michelle Schull?
The tech heiress who overdosed six years ago?
Hugh turned a sickly green. “I … I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, aye, you do. I’ve met many boys like you.
You think you have power because of Daddy’s money?
” Ramsay sneered. “But you don’t know anything about real power.
With one phone call, I could make you disappear.
Unlike you, I won’t leave behind evidence.
And dear old daddy isn’t powerful enough to do jack squat about it.
” Then he leaned in and whispered something in Hugh’s ear that made him literally tremble with fear.
What the hell was this about?
“Who are you?” Hugh asked hoarsely as Ramsay finally released him and stepped back.
“I’m the man who will hold you personally responsible if any harm comes to Silver. Do you understand?”
My ex shrugged his shirt and jacket into place and smoothed his hair. He shot me a look of arrogant fury. “When you realize you’ve fucked up your life and you come running back to New York, don’t dare come running back to me too.”
I was still vibrating with rage at his threat to put me under a conservatorship. “You’re lucky I gave up those millions, Hugh. Otherwise, I’d make you fucking disappear for what you threatened me with.”
He scoffed. “I can’t believe I thought you were worth dragging myself to this godforsaken place. I hope you burn in hell here.”
I felt Quinn’s reassuring hand on my shoulder as Hugh began to march downhill.
“Oh, and, Inchcolm,” Ramsay’s voice carried toward him and Hugh stiffened.
He reluctantly turned and snapped, “What?”
Ramsay crossed his arms over his chest, casual, calm. Intimidating. His tone bland despite the words as he warned, “I’ve got eyes everywhere. You make any kind of move toward her and my face is the last one you’ll ever fucking see.”
Hugh’s lips pinched together, and I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t take Ramsay’s threat seriously until he looked into him. The question is, what would he find?
As my ex disappeared down the hill, Quinn pulled out his phone. My eyes were on Ramsay, but I reluctantly tore my gaze and thoughts (and a thousand questions) from him as Quinn spoke to the person on the other end of his call.
“Jack, it’s Quinn. I need you to keep a look out for someone getting on the next ferry to the mainland.
Male, thirties, American, dressed in an expensive suit—aye, that’s the one.
He came in yesterday, did he? Well, I need you to let me know as soon as he’s dropped off on the mainland …
Aye … okay … thanks, Jack.” He hung up, looking from me to Ramsay. “We’ll know as soon as he’s gone.”
Ramsay nodded grimly, turning to me.
“What happened to Michelle?” I asked immediately.
She and I weren’t close, but we’d partied a few times together.
I knew she and Hugh had a thing before she overdosed.
I’d always liked Michelle. People thought she was a vapid party girl.
But I was one of the few people who knew her IQ was off the charts, courtesy of her genius father who owned one of the biggest tech companies in the world.
I’d never heard Michelle say a bad word about anyone.
Yet, I’d also thought she was broken somehow.
She held a pain within, and I figured that’s why she partied so much.
It was her escape from whatever demons chased her, but we hadn’t been close enough for me to find out more.
I remembered being at work the day the news broke.
I’d only just returned from my South American jungle experience with London, and I’d started as GM at the hotel.
The staff were gossiping about Michelle.
I’d hid myself in a janitor’s closet so I could cry without any of them seeing me.
I’d been unsurprised by the news of Michelle’s overdose, but I’d wished I’d tried harder to be her friend.
Now Ramsay had alluded that there was more to her death than meets the eye and that Hugh had something to do with it.
“I can’t tell you that.” He took a step toward me and even annoyed, I found myself wanting to lean into him. “Is Hugh the threat or is it something else?”
“I can’t tell you that. You’ll know the truth soon enough.
” Perri called yesterday afternoon. As per the legal process, they’d contacted the Silver Group to explain what story they’d be printing and ask for comment, and the company was scrambling their lawyers.
It might delay the story going to print until all the legal stuff was signed off.
“How did you know about Hugh and Michelle? Does it have something to do with your military background?”
Ramsay turned to Quinn. Whatever passed between them, I was aware of Quinn departing, but I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the man I’d recently shared a bed with.
“Well?”
“Will you tell me if Hugh is the threat?”
“He’s not the threat.”
“Who is the threat?”
I clenched my jaw. “So you’re saying if I don’t tell you, you won’t tell me how you got Hugh the narcissist to back off?”
“Is that your answer?”
“Ramsay …”
He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “You keep your secrets, Silver, and I’ll keep mine.” With that he gestured toward the house. “I want you inside where we can keep an eye on you until that bastard is off the island.”
“Seriously? That’s it?”
“It’s your decision. You trust me to fuck you but not to protect you, that’s entirely your prerogative. As it is mine to keep information to myself.”
I huffed and strode past him toward the house. “Bullshit. You wouldn’t tell me even if I told you who was behind the threats.”
“Wrong. I would tell you.”
I spun back around to face him as we reached the front entrance. “Would you tell me how you came by the information?”
He studied me carefully and then answered flatly, “No.”
Hurt I wasn’t sure I was allowed to feel rippled through me unpleasantly. I shrugged, hiding the emotion from him. “Then I guess I don’t feel bad about keeping secrets.” I turned and marched into the noisy house, intent on finding the farthest place in there to be from Ramsay right now.
Yet, that damned sense of gratitude my parents had instilled in me stopped me. I whirled around to find Ramsay in the messy large entrance that would become my reception, staring after me.
I shivered at the unguarded look on his face.
A worried expression he quickly blanked.
“Thank you,” I gritted out. “For getting rid of him.”
His mouth curled ever so slightly. “You can thank me later on your hands and knees.”
The words echoed around the space and anyone who was close enough to hear over the noise would’ve heard him.
And they did.
A choked laugh from the dining room made me flush from the tip of my toes to my hairline.
I glowered at him. “You can forget it now!”
Ramsay laughed low and unbothered. “Aye, we’ll see.” Then he casually walked away.
“Cocky bastard,” I muttered under my breath.