Chapter 10 #3
“Nay, Bram, you must listen,” Flora says, but I don’t stay around to hear any more. I turn and walk away as quietly as I can, my head bowed low, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
Someone’s watching me. I know it. I can feel it.
I look to the left and right, but see no one. I’m skilled enough at finding hidden cameras. Anyone who grew up around my father has that skill, anyway. I see no camera on the stairwell, but there’s one by the front door and several on the floor below us as well.
I walk down the stairs, heading out to see Mac, when I see someone scurrying into another room. Blast it, it’s the same girl I caught up here. What on earth is she doing?
I open the door and head out, shivering when a quick wind makes the leaves by my feet swirl past.
I hate this duplicity. Hate it. I want to believe that Mac’s sincere. I want to believe that the feelings we have for each other aren’t make-believe. But I’ve only just met him. How can this be anything more than infatuation?
And then I see him.
My God, he’s bare-chested, swinging an ax to chop the broken bit of fence. With the mountains behind him and his muscled, inked chest glistening with sweat, he’s a fucking vision. A real man of the mountains, the stuff of fantasies. So strong. So powerful. So fucking alpha.
I watch as he swings the ax, and the wood goes splintering to the side.
One of his brothers shouts out and says something, and they all burst out laughing, deep bellowing laughs, all masculine and rugged.
And I feel a wee bit guilty because right then, I don't want to leave this clan.
My family isn't like this, and I want to know these men better.
He sees me when I near and leans against his ax.
His eyes shine at me, and he grins, that dimple showing on his cheek making my heart flutter madly in my chest. I wave at him, like a silly little girl, then immediately feel embarrassed by my outward display of affection.
My family doesn't do that. We know better than to show any type of emotion.
He grins and waves back. Leith and Tate look up to where I am, and suddenly, with the sun glaring behind them, I know. I’ve seen these men before.
When I first saw them all together, I felt a strange sort of recognition. But I didn't really know how to reconcile it, or how I would know these men. But now I remember.
“Last year,” I say, shaking my head from side to side as I approach. “You three were in the petrol station in Inverness centre, weren’t you?”
Mac laughs, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. He turns to grab his shirt from the fence.
“Aye, perhaps, lass. But you have to understand that we were likely in the petrol station in Inverness centre about fifty times last year. Why would you remember one time?”
For some reason, Leith doesn’t meet my eyes but just keeps working, and Tate does the same.
“Because it was the first time I saw any of you.
And now, seeing you all together like this…
I just remember." I turn to Leith next. “Do you remember?
You were asking how to find the Cathedral.
" I shake my head. "But why would you need to know how to find the Cathedral?
You've lived here all your life, haven't you? "
I don't miss the way they all look at each other. They don't want to answer my question. They know exactly what I'm talking about.
And when it all becomes clear to me, I wish I could take my words back. Of course they knew where the Cathedral was. I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and they were probably doing something illegal.
Mac puts down his ax and walks over to me. He smiles, but there’s warning in his eyes. “Are there things your father doesn’t speak of, lassie?”
I nod. “Aye, of course.”
His voice lowers, and his hand comes to my lower back, gently pushing me away from the others, his voice low in my ear. “There are things we don’t speak of either. And I think it’s time you dropped the subject.”
I nod, caught halfway between embarrassment for speaking so boldly, like a child asking questions she shouldn't, and a tiny bit of fear at the reminder that these men do things they shouldn't. I don't want to think of what they do, but if they’re anything like my father, I know that they’re violent, and they break the law.
But those thoughts are very fleeting, because I like the way his hand feels on the small of my back. I like the way his deep, commanding voice sends a shiver of delight down my spine. And for some reason I can't understand at all… I like that I'm a wee bit afraid of him.
“Lads, I reckon we’re done here for now, aren’t we?” Mac asks over his shoulder.
“Aye, thanks, brother,” Leith says, as Mac grabs his shirt from a nearby tree branch and slings it over his shoulder. “Call me later.”
“Aye, will do.”
“Aren’t you freezin’ your bollox off?” I ask Mac. “I feel cold just looking at you.”
“Nah, lass,” he says with a teasing wink. “Not when you’re beside me.”
I grin. “You’re a shameless flirt, Mac Cowen, you know that?”
“Me?” he asks in mock surprise. “A flirt? Never.”
I roll my eyes as he takes my hand in his. Now that we’re a good distance away from his brothers, he brings the conversation up again.
“Aye, lass, you saw us at the petrol station. We were looking for someone, and we didn't want anyone to know who we are. There's something you need to know, Bryn. We like to stay anonymous. It's very important to us that nobody knows who we are, or what we do.”
Has he put himself at risk here with his family, for me?
“I see,” I say, nodding. “I can respect that. Hell, I’d even prefer that to what my father does.
” I hate how he flaunts his money and name, inspiring fear in anyone we meet.
He wants every single citizen of Inverness to know who Aitkens is.
He wants preferential treatment, respect, fear.
I know this now. And I despise it. I reckon I'd like to have a quiet little retreat in the mountains like this, where no one knows my name.
“I wish I remember meeting you. Did we meet, then?” he asks.
“No, I just saw you from a little ways away. The details are very vague.”
He grins. “Aye, love. I know if I met you, I wouldn't have forgotten who you are."
I flush pink. “You flatter me, Mac.”
“I don’t. I simply say the truth.” He pulls out his mobile and looks at the time. “We’ve got to get the work you need to do from town. Bring it back here. Have you gotten in touch with your father today?"
I like that he’s concerned, that he doesn’t want to cause issues between me and my dad.
“Aye, and we’re good for now. He thinks I’m at a friend’s house.”
Mac scowls, and I feel guilty for lying to him. So bloody guilty.
“And he also thinks your bodyguard’s with you, doesn’t he?”
I nod. I do feel guilty about that part, and tell Mac about the conversation I had earlier with Michail.
We reach his chalet when I finish the story. Truth is, the way Mac’s face flushes in anger satisfies the hell out of me.
“I’ll kick his fuckin’ arse, if he talks to you that way again.”
“And I’d like to see you do it, but the problem is, what if he goes to my father? We have to make sure he stays quiet.”
“Aye,” Mac says. He opens the door, and we go in.
I sigh. The smell of the wood-burning stove, the faintest lingering scent of coffee, and the clean smell of the pines makes me feel like I never want to leave this place.
It's so homey, the most comforting place I've ever been, even including that beautiful flat he has in town. I don’t ever want to leave this place. I’ve never had a place I liked coming home to.
My conscience troubles me at the thought of what I must do, why I’m here. I’ve got to find a way out of this. I must.
But I don’t know how.
I’m going to tell him. I’ll tell him the truth, all of it. I have to. I can’t hide it from him anymore.
The next second, I’m distracted, though, because Mac turns to me, fierce possession in his gaze. His blue eyes flash, and he’s in my space.
For one brief moment, I wonder if the gig is up, if he’s brought me here to hurt me, for there’s nothing gentle in his gaze or touch.
“Clothes off,” he grates in my ear, his hands already scrambling to help me strip. “I want you fuckin’ naked. I want you on your knees. I’m gonna fuck that sweet, pretty pussy of yours until you scream, darlin’. So when we go into town, you don’t forget who you belong to.”
I don’t need to be told twice.