Chapter 8 Robyn #2
“Thank God she didn’t see anyone,” Lucy spoke up. “Can you imagine what might have happened if she’d turned up while that person was there? Look at what happened to Mac.”
Eredine inhaled sharply.
“Lucy,” Adair admonished.
The actor winced. “I’m sorry. I just meant it was a good thing Ery didn’t see anything.”
I studied the way Eredine seemed to fold in on herself, frowning angrily at the coffee table.
Call it a cop’s instinct, or a woman’s instinct, but she was definitely afraid of something. Possibly frustrated by that fear too. Maybe I was projecting.
Whenever I was afraid, it pissed me off, and I’d find a way to arm myself.
When I was fifteen, I’d gone on a fifth date with a junior I’d been crushing on forever. That night in his car, he’d pushed me to go to third base. When I’d said no, he’d fought me and touched me without my permission. I was furious, humiliated, violated … and scared.
But instead of letting the little shit win, I told my stepdad what happened.
Seth dealt with the boy’s parents, but he also enrolled me in a mixed martial arts class.
Because his parents came down hard on him, that boy and his friends taunted me for months.
Then one day, near the end of the school year, he came at me in the parking lot.
I took him down with what I’d learned, and he was so humiliated, I never heard a peep out of him again.
It empowered me.
And it had given me more confidence as a female cop to know I could handle myself against stronger perpetrators.
It wasn’t the answer for every woman.
But it could be.
“Eredine.” My softer tone drew her eyes back to mine.
“I know when something like this happens, we feel violated. It’s not just our space that’s violated, it feels like we have been.
” Her eyes narrowed, and I could feel her drawing away so I hurried on.
“I do mixed martial arts. I started training when I was fifteen after some shithead got the better of me.” Her expression relaxed into understanding.
“I’m going to be here awhile, visiting my dad, figuring all of this out. I could teach you self-defense.”
Her surprise was obvious.
Adair butted in, “Teach her?”
I didn’t look at him. This wasn’t about him.
“Teach you some self-defense moves that actually work in real-life situations. I know it made me feel better prepared going out on the streets of Boston every day. It’s not just about self-defense.
It’s about the confidence it gives you. I took back my power when I started training. ”
Interest lit her eyes but was just as quickly shut out by mistrust. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”
I kept my expression neutral, my tone relaxed. “Well, you know we could train in your studio between your classes. It’ll be fun.”
She scowled ferociously.
I was losing her.
“Eredine …” I leaned forward. “Let me help you take that space back. We’ll make it yours again in no time.”
There was that flicker of fire in her eyes again. Her chin jutted stubbornly—she reminded me of me. “The studio is my space. I don’t need to take it back.”
“You heard her.” Adair’s tone had a slight bite to it. It was then I recognized his expression. He looked at Eredine much the same way he did Arrochar. Like a sister. My curiosity pricked. How had they come into each other’s lives?
“If Eredine won’t train with you, I certainly will,” Lucy said.
All three of us looked at her in surprise. “You want to learn MMA?”
“Sure. I’m taking a year out from working after an exhaustive eight years of nonstop filming, and Ardnoch is my favorite place.
” She smiled sweetly. “I’m going to be here, so why not?
It might come in handy for future roles.
I could play a badass with authenticity.
And what’s more authentic than a real-life badass female cop teaching me how to defend myself? ”
Something told me Lucy only offered to train with me in an effort to convince Eredine too.
In that moment, I decided I liked Lucy Wainwright. A lot. And not just because she’d called me a badass. Though I loved the sound of it.
“Maybe Ery would be kind enough to let us use the studio when her classes are out?”
Eredine, for her part, looked thrown by Lucy’s decision to train with a complete stranger. “Well … it’s not technically my studio.” She glanced up at Adair.
“It is your studio. Your decision.”
“Then it’s okay with me.”
“You should stick around to watch.” Lucy grinned at her. “I’d like you there.”
I kept my smile to myself when Eredine silently agreed.
Leaving Lucy to look after Eredine, I followed Adair. I’d collected my camera from Jock who left to greet the police. Knowing the cops would probably take umbrage to a “civilian” nosing around, Lachlan and I made sure we’d left the studio before they showed.
After I’d brandished the key card that opened the desk in Mac’s office, Adair reluctantly led me back to the castle. We walked the entire way in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts.
I’d had to retrieve the key card from Mac’s house. His place surprised me. He lived in one of the cute row houses near the quieter end of Castle Street. It was small and cozy inside, the house tastefully decorated in a masculine palette with hints of tartan here and there.
I hadn’t stayed long. It felt weird and invasive to be in Mac’s house—for the first time—without him.
I’d stayed awhile at the hospital in Inverness, and we’d talked about the Ardnoch stalker case and joked and made small talk.
But we hadn’t delved into our relationship.
It would have to wait until he was well enough.
I didn’t look forward to it. Despite the horrible circumstances, it was nice just hanging out with Mac, and I was afraid our issues would come between us permanently once we aired them out.
It took me a moment to realize we were at a door opposite Mac’s office. “What are you doing?”
“The key to Mac’s office is in my office.”
Ah.
Adair retrieved the key card while I stood outside in the hall, noting his space wasn’t much bigger than Mac’s and almost a mirror image in design.
I would’ve thought Adair would have a huge office with a roaring fire and wall-to-wall bookshelves.
As if he’d read my mind, he smirked as he moved past me, closing the door behind him.
“This is my real office where I work when I don’t want to be interrupted. ”
Adair swiped the key over the pad on Mac’s office door, and it lit up. He pushed it open, glancing back at me with that twinkle in his eyes I’d only ever seen in his films. “Mac and I call my other office my stage office. It’s where I go when I’m happy to be interrupted by members.”
“And where is it?”
“Just off the members’ library. It’s more in keeping with the rest of the castle.”
I could picture it—said roaring fire and wall-to-wall shelves. I wanted to see it just to see if I was right.
“Why do you need a stage office?” I asked as I veered past him into Mac’s space, avoiding touching Adair.
“Ardnoch is a product. The members are here because they love the traditional aspects of the escape we offer.”
“And to them, you’re not just the owner, you’re the lord of the manor, so to speak?”
“Exactly. That’s the environment they want to see me in.”
I nodded because it made sense. But it sounded exhausting. “So it’s a retreat, but it’s still a show. I guess you never gave up acting after all.” I rounded Mac’s desk.
At Adair’s silence, I glanced up. He looked caught off guard, stopping me in motion.
“Adair?”
He blinked quickly, a blank mask falling over his features. “Did you find his laptop?”
Going with the change of subject, I found the slot in the desk that matched the key card and slid it in. It beeped and a drawer in the middle of the desk popped out. Mac’s laptop sat neatly inside it. I chuckled. “How very James Bond.”
“Mac is a private man.”
My humor fled and I muttered, “Understatement.”
“What happened to you when you were fifteen?”
Now it was my turn to be caught off guard. But Adair’s blunt question deserved a blunt response. I picked up the laptop and slid the hidden drawer back into place. “I was assaulted by a boyfriend.”
He looked stunned as I rounded the desk toward him.
“What is it?”
“Mac doesn’t know about that, does he?”
“It wasn’t worth trying to track him down. And my stepdad took care of it.”
Anger glittered in Adair’s eyes. For a so-called actor, he wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings. “Mac would have wanted to know.”
“Why? So he could feel bad but not bad enough to come to Boston to check on me?”
“He would have been there in a heartbeat.”
The old hurt flared. “You don’t know shit.”
Adair stepped into my space, his spicy cologne distracting as the heat and size of him threatened to surround me. I tilted my chin up, refusing to back down.
“If you think so little of Mac, why are you here? We don’t need your help.”
“Well, you have it,” I snapped, losing my cool. “I’m helping my father. What is your problem with me? Because you’ve been a bastard from the moment I got here. I’m the one who should hate you, not the other way around.”
His nostrils flared. “Hate me? For what? You don’t even know me.”
“Because of you, I rarely saw my father. He missed birthdays and graduations and all because he was protecting your ass while you gallivanted around the world as Mr. Big Shot Hollywood Actor. Guess a skinny, boring little kid from Dorchester couldn’t compete with that.”
Adair stared at me in utter disbelief. “How can you even think that?”
I shrugged, trying to cover my pain with nonchalance. “Whatever. It’s done now.”
“It’s done? Clearly, it’s not done.” He studied me like it was the first time he’d really seen me. “It’s not my place … but I suggest when he’s up to it, you have an honest conversation with Mac about your relationship. And about your mother’s part in the lack thereof.”
It was automatic to want to defend my mother. But this wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned her. Uneasiness shifted through me. “I … I plan to. But for now, I have a new case to work on.” I motioned with the laptop.
Adair nodded and moved toward the door. But before he opened it, he looked back at me. “I don’t hate you, Robyn. I don’t know you.”
“Then what’s with the attitude?”
“I don’t trust outsiders. And I’m protective of my family.”
Aggravated, I nudged past him and opened the door myself. “Not a good-enough excuse for being an asshole. Now … have you got places to be, or do you have time to take me around the estate? I want a tour of every crime scene.”