Chapter 31 Tierney #2
She snorted. “You know, you would make an excellent investigative reporter with that attitude. You have balls of steel.”
I laughed softly. “Nah. I think once this all blows over, I’ll be happy with my remote little life.”
I felt Ramsay’s attention, but I turned to look out the window, my throat closing with emotion.
Because I had been stupid enough to believe my remote little life would include him.
Perri and I chatted more about what to expect next. As soon as we hung up, Ramsay connected his phone to the car and called Quinn. Quinn asked how I was and then Ramsay told him about the article.
“Aye, everyone’s already talking about it.
The whole island is abuzz now that they know who is behind the threats against Tierney.
Some apologies have also been made to those who were accused,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“You can imagine how that went. But we’re all proud of Tierney and what her parents were trying to uncover. ”
There went my throat constricting again. I couldn’t speak. Ramsay took one glance at my face and replied for me, “Silver’s a wee bit emotional right now, but she’s grateful.”
An ache panged across my chest and with it, hope.
Had I read him wrong?
Was he … I was so confused.
“We’re here for you, Tierney,” Quinn replied softly. “And I’ll warn everyone about the media frenzy, but I think most of us already knew to expect it after reading the article this morning.”
After the call with Quinn, Cammie called to check in. She was with Taran.
I felt their love and kindness wash over me.
Even as I continued to worry about London.
About Ramsay.
About the media.
Around the halfway mark in the journey, I had to ask Ramsay to stop so I could relieve myself and because I was getting faint with hunger. He pulled into a large service station that had several fast-food options.
He insisted on rounding the car to help me out and he stayed glued to my side as I insisted on walking by myself. My wound radiated pain up my torso and down across my stomach. Frustration blazed through me as I realized I wasn’t going to be up and on my feet quite as quickly as I’d thought.
Ramsay saw my struggle, took hold of my elbow, and led me directly to the restroom. I stopped him. “You’re not coming in with me.”
“You need help.”
“I’m peeing on my own.” I gritted my teeth and used what strength I had left to get myself into the restroom and to a toilet cubicle.
Self-pitying tears welled in my eyes as I took care of business, my stomach throbbing the entire time. This overly emotional crap was not helping anything!
Willing myself to keep it together, I got out and over to the sinks to wash my hands. I was out of breath and hot all over. I had to take a minute, resting against the counter. Maybe it was time for some pain relief too.
Ramsay waited outside the door and slid an arm around my waist before I could say a word. “Lean on me now,” he demanded.
So I did.
People were looking at us, but I no longer cared. I needed a seat, pain relief, and food. I told Ramsay as much.
“I should have brought the food to the damn car,” he muttered.
“I still needed to pee,” I whispered as I slid into a booth.
He grumpily took my order, and I didn’t get mad at his mood because I knew he was annoyed I was in pain.
And there I went getting all hopeful and optimistic again.
Because surely if he cared this much about me …
While Ramsay ordered the food, I googled the article.
It was difficult not to start sobbing in the middle of the restaurant as I read Rahman’s, my parents’, and Ben’s story in black and white.
Perri had added my attack and Halston’s arrest into the finished article.
Now the whole world knew what had been done to my family for trying to tell the truth.
Pride, almost unbearable pride, burned through me.
My parents had been so strong in their convictions. They’d gone after the answers they needed, even if it hurt them.
With that in mind, when Ramsay returned with the food, I lunged. Verbally. “How did you find the guy who attacked me so quickly? How did you connect it to Halston? Where did you disappear to?”
“I called in a few favors.” Ramsay shrugged before taking a bite of his burger.
“What kind of favors? With whom?”
“Old friends.”
“Ramsay—”
“Eat your food before you pass out.”
I took an aggressive bite of my burger, glaring at him the whole time.
Something hot but tender lit his expression as he stared back.
As if he realized it too, he looked down at his food.
I waited until I’d finished my burger. “Who are these friends you speak of?”
“Just old friends.”
“Seriously.” I hissed, leaning across the table and then wincing with pain. “Fuck.”
“Stop exerting yourself.”
“Stop lying to me.”
He scowled. “I haven’t lied to you.”
“Then stop evading. Did you go after Halston?”
“I’m going to get your pain meds out of the car.” He got up before I could say a word and disappeared out of the restaurant.
Emotionally wounded, I sank back against the booth and reached for my phone. I wanted to talk to London. I wanted to tell her everything and ask her what she thought about Ramsay.
There was still nothing from her.
Concerned and a little depressed, I didn’t push Ramsay further. I took my pain relief. I ate and let him eat. Then he gently guided me back to the car.
For the next few hours, I stewed in my own emotions. By the time we reached the car ferry that would take us over to Glenvulin, I was close to tears again. “I trusted you with my story,” I suddenly spoke into the silent vehicle. “I don’t understand why you can’t trust me to tell me the truth.”
Ramsay sighed. “Be honest, Silver. You only told me the truth because there was no other option. That’s not trust.”
Anger flushed through me. “I told you I’d already decided to tell you that day that fucker stabbed me, but he got to me first!”
“Calm down.” Ramsay glowered. “You can’t get worked up right now.”
Knowing he would be obnoxious and not respond if I didn’t lower my tone, I continued quietly, “I trust you.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed as his gaze shuttered.
I swallowed over and over again, fighting back my tears. I wouldn’t give him my goddamn tears. Clenching my hands into tight fists, I concentrated on my indignation instead.
Quinn called as we made the crossing.
The media were already there and waiting.
Thankfully, we were able to drive past them off the ferry, though Ramsay almost mowed them down and they nearly blinded me with their cameras.
The Leth Sholas police unit was very small, but they blocked the exit from the ferry terminal with two large Defenders so we could get out with a police escort while the Defenders blocked the paparazzi from following us.
My heart rate slowed as soon as I knew they couldn’t follow.
To my surprise, Ramsay drove me into a residential area of Leth Sholas. “Where are we going?”
Instead of answering, he pulled up outside a bungalow. Taran stepped through the front door of the one-story home.
The police car parked behind us as a precaution.
Taran hurried around the car and opened my door. “You’re staying with me while you recuperate,” she offered without preamble.
I gaped up at her. “No. You’ve got enough going on.”
“I want you here,” she assured. “It’ll help me too.”
“The media.” I gestured behind me to what we’d left in our wake at the harbor. “They’ll camp outside the house.”
“Then let them.” Taran stepped aside and Ramsay was there, sliding his arms under my ass.
“What are you doing?”
“No more walking today,” he said gruffly, easing me out of the car and into his arms as if I weighed nothing.
Even though my anger toward him still burned hotly, I held on tight and enjoyed the moment.
Mostly because I worried it might be my last time in his arms.
The thought made me sick to my stomach.
Inside the bungalow, Taran directed Ramsay to the back of the house and into a bedroom with a double bed. My suitcases were stacked in the corner. “What?”
Ramsay lowered me onto the bed. “You can’t get up and down the stairs of the flat, so the flat is done with. Aodhan already knows.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Well, that’s a little high-handed, don’t you think? Where am I supposed to go when I’m healed up?”
Taran appeared in the doorway. “You’re staying here until the B and B is ready.”
Gratitude mingled with dismay. “I can’t impose like that.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Honestly … having you here … it’s kind of selfish of me. I … being here without Mum is hard. And after reading your story today in the paper … maybe it would be nice to have each other right now.”
This time my tears fell before I could stop them. “Thank you,” I whispered, wiping them away, though the salty taste of them lingered on my lips.
Feeling his stare, I looked up at Ramsay.
He seemed … conflicted.
Until he washed away the expression with that cool disinterest he was so good at adopting. “I’ll make sure the journos don’t bother you.”
With that, he brushed past Taran and was gone.
Taran frowned, turning back to me. “What … is everything all right there?”
No.
Everything most certainly was not.