Chapter 7 #3
“Seems familiar to me, too,” Clyde says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I’ll look into it and let you know if we find anything. I thought so last night but thought I could’ve been mistaken with darkness all around us and the odd evening it was.”
“Get back to me with that. Now, then, we need to talk about this month’s accounting.”
This is my least favorite part of my job, where I ask the men to show what they’ve earned for the Clan in their respective jobs.
Men have been released from our Clan for not holding their weight in the past, but since I’ve stepped into this role, I haven’t had to give so much as a warning to a soul.
One by one, I check the records, pleased to see all men doing their jobs properly and promptly.
“Do you know the name of the man we killed?” Tate asks, returning to our first topic, the one I can’t forget myself. I appreciate his use of the word “we.” He doesn’t want to disrespect me in front of the others.
Mac nods. “I do. ’Twas Gil Aitken. Not very high ranking, but perhaps blood relation to Banner Aitkens himself.”
Bloody hell. The men discuss our options, and where we go from here.
“I’ve seen nothing that indicates anyone saw or heard us,” I tell them. “Does anyone have intel we were overhead or seen? William?”
As our tech support, he’s the one who’s deeply involved in our online presence and rumors that come our way, the chatter among the people of Inverness.
They shake their heads. No one’s heard a thing.
“I want it clear, I’ve got no fucking qualms about making damn sure the Aitkens were punished for what they’ve done. I want it clear we aren’t cowards who hide behind our actions. What I do want is the Aitkens looking over their fucking shoulders, wondering what will happen next, who will strike.”
Tate meets my eyes and nods, and I can see his steadfast loyalty and conviction in the way he meets my gaze. Mac, for all his swagger and attitude, gives me the same firm nod.
“Aye, Leith, and I think we did that well.”
“Agreed,” Clyde says, leaning over on his chair with his elbows on his knees. “And we made it bloody fucking clear they stay the hell away from MacGowen.”
“But will they return, is the question?” William asks, shaking his head. He leans back in his chair, scowling, his dark brows drawn together.
“We’ll have to watch, won’t we?”
The men talk amongst themselves, and I realize I’m not paying as close attention as I should.
My mind is elsewhere, focused on a pretty little lass with haunting eyes who’s holed up in Nan’s chalet.
The way her eyes met mine in unabashed curiosity when she slipped on the ice.
The way she held onto me to steady herself, such a slight little thing.
She may not speak out loud, but humans communicate in so many more ways. And I can tell, just by the way she—
“Leith?”
I blink, bringing myself back to the present.
William’s looking at me strangely, like he doesn’t quite know what to make of me. “Did you hear the question, Cap’n?”
Christ, I’m so preoccupied with thoughts of Cairstina, I’m doing precisely what I’d berate my men for doing. I shake my head.
“Sorry, William, what was that again?”
“Do you know anything about the girl’s family?”
I shrug. “I know she’s the sister of Dougal Reilly, that her brother’s an abusive arse. That’s all I know.” I look to Clyde. “I want you to find out everything you can and report back to me. Understood?”
“Aye, sir.”
Tate looks at me and nods. “Have you found a way to communicate with her?”
“Aye, she’s got a mobile so she can text me, and she writes things down as well.”
Mac makes another comment under his breath to William, and this time I hear William’s retort under his breath. “Bet she communicates in bed just fine.”
I’ve had it. I push myself to my feet and drag William up from the table by the front of his shirt, hauling him so he stands straight in front of me.
“Care to say that out loud, Will?”
He’s a large man but younger and smaller than I am, and far lower in rank. He pales and shakes his head. “No, sir. I-I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have said a thing.”
I drop him unceremoniously back in his chair, and his face reddens.
“I took that woman home with me and for good reason,” I tell them. “But I want this very fucking clear. None of you talk of her. None of you will touch her.” I pause, making sure I have the attention of all. “Cairstina Reilly belongs to me.”
Silence falls over the room, save William’s heavy breathing and the ticking of a clock.
“Aye, Captain,” Tate says firmly, demonstrating his support. “Tell us what you need from us.” He looks around at the men, his face stern and forbidding. “And I’ll make fuckin’ sure they honor that.”
The men nod, even Mac. I give them clear instructions on what ought to be done before the next meeting and leave. From the large windows in the front of the house, I can see the small chalets that dot the perimeter. I blink in surprise when I see Nan’s.
Is that smoke?
The door crashes behind me as I head down the hill toward her home.