Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mac
The day passes quickly, and yet not fast enough. I don’t want her to leave. I want her stay right here with me, and she ends up staying with me for several days in succession.
I’m surprised her father allows it, but he does, and I enjoy every fucking minute with her.
When I’m working, I want to get back to her. When I’m with my brothers or doing a job, I think of her.
She's in my mind, I can almost feel her. I can't think of anything with enough focus, unless I'm thinking of her.
She was terribly concerned about not having her mobile. It raises suspicions of my own. Is she hiding something from me?
Honestly, why would I think she wasn't? She's rival mafia. Doesn't much matter if she's hiding anything from me, I know what my purpose is.
But bloody hell, I can't do it now. I know I can't.
Does that make me less of a man? Or more of one?
We eat with my family and go back to my home. She calls her father, while sitting right in my lap, and tells him point-blank that she’s spending the night at the Cowen Clan home again. I expect him to lose his mind, or to get angry, but he doesn't.
Maybe I've misjudged Banner Aitkens.
There’s got to be another way to do what I’ve promised my family.
“Come here, lass,” I say, when she hangs up the phone. I’m hungry for her, dying to get my hands on her again. Craving a taste of her all fucking day.
She tosses the mobile to the end of the sofa and snuggles up to my chest.
“Now, where were we?” I ask, giving her a wink. “I think a certain little lassie made a promise this morning—”
Her eyes shine brightly, her cheeks faintly flushed.
“Aye,” she says, and she’s got the eager-to-please look again. She’s sliding off my lap to the floor, and I’m fucking hard already just knowing what’s coming next when my phone rings.
“Fuckin’ hell,” I growl, glaring at it. “They can wait.”
But Jaysus, God, it’s Leith’s ringtone.
She nods toward the phone. “It’s alright, Mac. I know you have to take it.”
“Won't be long," I tell her, even though I have no idea if that's true or not.
"Hello?"
“Got a situation, brother, need you at the main house immediately.”
I sit straight up.
“What is it?”
“We’ve caught a spy.”
“Have you? Who is it?”
“Aitkens Clan.”
“Bloody hell!”
I look sharply to the sofa, and Bryn’s eyes go wide. “Everything alright?” she mouths. I shake my head and hold up a finger for her to wait.
“I’ll be right there.”
“You’ve got Bryn with you?” Leith asks.
“Aye.”
“Do not bring her. She stays at your place. I’ve sent a man to keep her safe, lock her in tight. I don’t want her knowing what’s going on.”
I don’t reply at first. I was afraid something like this would happen. I have to do what my loyalty to my family requires, but I fucking hate leaving her. I want to take her with me. I hate the idea of somebody coming to watch over her.
The days with her have given me false promise, a false high. I know the expectation of normalcy between us can’t ever happen.
But even if she were mine, irrevocably, I couldn’t take her on a job like this. I know exactly what I'm going to be asked to do. And she couldn't come with me even if she did belong to me.
A knock comes at the door as I hang up the phone.
“Mac?” she asks, pulling the blanket up around her, her beautiful eyes wide in surprise. “Everything alright?”
I shake my head. “It will be. And I have to go.” I lean over, cup her jaw, and kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Will you wait for me?”
She nods. “Of course. Can you tell me what's going on?"
I shake my head. "I'm sorry, baby. I can't. You'll have to trust me. Leith has sent a guard down to watch over you. We’ll lock every door and window, and I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can.”
Her eyes darken as she looks to the door, frowning. She doesn’t like this plan any more than I do.
“I can’t come?”
“No, Bryn. You stay here. Now go quickly, lass, get changed.”
I point to her bag with all her clothes. She nods, sighs, and quickly goes to get changed as I yell to the door, “Just a minute!”
A few minutes later, I open the door to let Clyde in. He looks sheepishly from me to Bryn. “Sorry, boss,” he says, shaking his head. “Cap’n made me come.”
“Aye, it isn’t your fault.” I look over at Bryn, who’s watching us in the living room while we’re still standing in the doorway. I lower my voice so she doesn’t hear. “I can’t have her knowing what I’m doing or where I am.”
He nods. “Aye, boss. Of course.”
I blow out a breath and glare at him. “And I’m tellin’ you now, Clyde…” my voice trails off as I think about how I want to phrase this. “She means something to me. Her safety’s fucking everything to me, do you understand me?”
He blanches, hearing the sincerity in my voice. “Aye, of course.”
“Leith’s forbidden me from taking her back with me, or she’d be tied to my bloody side. For all I fucking know, her father sent a scout, and there’s more than one here. What do you have for weapons on you?”
“Bloody everything,” he says, and I’m reminded why he was inducted in the Cowen Clan to begin with. Keenan McCarthy, our mate in Ireland, was the one who suggested him to us. Loyal and fierce, and one of the toughest in a fight one could imagine.
He opens his coat to reveal a vest with a bevy of weapons.
“Got me guns, packing a blade in my boot, and if it came down to it, I have my own bare hands that could do some serious damage as well.”
It’ll damn near kill me leaving her in the care of another.
“Excellent. I’m trusting you, brother.”
He nods, standing straighter. “And I won’t let you down.”
I’ve left my sisters and Mum in the care of my brothers before.
I've been the one in charge of protection, making sure the younger and weaker in our clan were well cared for.
Until Cairstina had her baby, we didn't have any bairns, but my sisters are younger than I am, and we have cousins as well.
I know how important it is to keep the more vulnerable safe, and I know it's important to trust Clyde. But I fucking hate it.
I want to be the one that protects her. I want to be the one she leans on when she's afraid. I want to be the one that slays anything that will come to hurt her.
Still, I want it so fucking clear who I am and what she means to me. So before I leave, I go to her. She’s dressed in joggers and a hoodie, her feet bare and her hair arranged in an adorably messy bun.
I stalk over to her, intent on making my point. To him. To her. To bloody fucking anyone who could be spying on us.
The look on my face makes her eyes widen, and she takes a step back involuntarily. Is she afraid I'll hurt her?
I reach for her bun, fisting the silky locks in the palm of my hand.
I yank her head back, and when her mouth opens in a gasp, I slam my mouth on hers.
Her hands come around my shoulders to anchor herself as I kiss her, my tongue meeting hers, demanding she yield to me, and when she does, I slide my hand along her lower back, yanking her flush against me as I kiss her.
I release her, loving the way her lips are swollen and slightly parted, her hair spilling out of her bun down the side of her face and in her eyes.
“Mac,” she whispers. I kiss her again to quiet her.
“Behave while I’m gone,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She nods dumbly, and I let her go with great reluctance.
Clyde looks away when I turn to him, as if embarrassed to see such an intimate moment. I don’t fucking care.
“Call me if you see or hear a single fucking move out of line, you understand me?”
“Aye,” he says, nodding. “Of course.”
I leave my house fueled with rage at whoever’s come to threaten us. If they’re here because of her, I’ll fucking kill them.
I call Leith. He answers on the first ring.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“Basement. We saved him for you.”
I hear muffled curses in the background as I increase my speed, jogging to the main house. I enter the house to find the fucking housekeeper, the girl called Aisla, watching me with large, wide eyes.
“What the fuck are you staring at?” I know I’m being a douchebag. I don’t usually treat any of them this way, but I’m so pissed I hope I get the chance to beat the crap out of someone tonight.
“Nothing, sir,” she says, but as she scurries away, a notebook falls out of her pocket.
I wouldn’t think anything of it, if she didn’t react with utter horror. She gasps when she sees it, picks it up, and shoves it back in her pocket.
“Give that here.”
She freezes, her hand on the notebook. “G-give what, sir?”
“Give me that fucking notebook.” I’m stalking over to her, ready to tear it out of her bloody hands.
She turns to me, “There’s nothing in it, sir, but my private diary.”
Lies. She’s lying.
I snap my fingers. “I said give it here.”
If she’s snooping, I want to know.
She shakes her head. “I-I can’t do that, sir.”
I look at her in surprise. No one on our staff questions us. Ever.
“If you don’t, I’ll fire you.”
Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head from side to side. “You can’t do that, Mr. Cowen. You can’t!”
“I fucking can and will. Now this is your last chance. Give it here.”
With trembling fingers, she hands it to me. I don’t have time to look through it yet.
“Stay right there,” I tell her, then I dial Islan.
“Yeah, Mac? What’s up?”
“Your guard with you?”
She blows out a breath. “Of fucking course,” she mutters. “Always. Why?”
“Send him down to me, and you join Paisley in her room tonight.”
There’s a pause before she answers. “Everything alright?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll tell you when I know.”
She’s quiet, then agrees. “Alright, then, will send him down straight away.” I hear her talking to him. “Mr. Cowen wants you downstairs. Mac. Says you’re needed and I’m to join Paisley.”
A moment later, her guard comes to join us. I gesture to Aisla. “This one’s under house arrest until further notice.”
“Mr. Cowen!”
Aisla looks abashed.
She’s hiding something, I fucking know it. She looks from me to him and then back at me. She takes a step toward me. “Sir, please, I promise, I would never do anything to betray the Cowen family.”