Chapter 31 Arro
ARRO
Nothing existed for me but him and sensation.
The thick hotness of him inside me. His tight hold on my hips.
The musky smell of sex in the air. The cool metal of my bed frame growing hotter in my hand, the softness of the mattress beneath my knees.
My gasps and pants. His growls and grunts between pleasure-hazed commands for me to take him as hard as I could.
The coiling lust tightening deep inside with every powerful drive into my body as Mackennon took me from behind.
My chin dropped to my chest as my grasp on the bed became such it rattled with every thrust.
“Mackennon!” I cried, feeling that coil tense to near explosion.
His grip on my hips was almost bruising as he demanded I come in that deep, rumbling voice of his that turned me on no matter where we were.
Needing to see his face, I glanced over my shoulder at him.
Mac’s eyes glinted with fierceness I coveted.
He always looked like a conquering Viking when he was close to release, and that turned me on too.
Everything about this man made me mindless with desire.
“Mackennon,” I whimpered, holding his eyes as I pushed back against his thrusts.
Suddenly, I found myself pulled upward, forced to let go of the bed.
My back now rested against Mac’s chest, his arms wrapped around my torso, one hand slipping between my thighs to circle my clit.
His pumps into me slowed, sexy and languid as I rested my head on his shoulder and undulated against his arching hips.
His lips caressed my ear as he told me how beautiful I was, how perfect I felt around his cock, that I was everything, how his body was made for just this moment.
It was too much.
The tension inside me shattered into a million pieces, and the strength of my release was such Mackennon grunted with surprise as my inner muscles clenched around him, wrenching his own from him.
Once reality returned to me again, I tilted my head back to look up at him. He bent his to kiss me. When we released one another, I smiled at him, dazed.
Truly amazed at what existed between us.
We’d shared six of the best weeks of my life.
Mac cupped my cheek in his hand, his expression adoring. “I love you so much, Arro.”
He hadn’t told me he loved me since the beginning, and a part of me had dreaded it as much as I yearned for it. That confusion hadn’t worked itself out yet, and so a response caught in my throat once more.
Disappointment dimmed the light in Mac’s eyes, and I felt like the biggest arsehole in the world as he gave me a quick kiss before pulling out of me.
I thought he’d walk away, go lick his wounds elsewhere, but I should’ve known better.
Mac got out of bed and reached under me, lifting me into his arms. I wrapped mine around his neck as he carried me like a bride on her wedding night into the bathroom.
There would never be a wedding night for us, I realized glumly, if I didn’t get past this stumbling block.
What the hell was wrong with me? Could I really still fear him hurting me after all this?
Surely, I understood by now that Mac would rather die than hurt me again?
He saw his therapist every week without fail, and she’d even suggested I come along to a session with him in the future, something Mac was totally comfortable with.
He turned the shower on and gently lowered me into it. “You shower first, darlin’. I’ll make you a coffee.”
Those three words bubbled up inside, but he’d already left the bathroom by the time I got the I out.
Damn it.
The rest of the morning was tense. I knew Mac was trying to work us through the tension with small talk, but I kept waiting for my moment to tell him I loved him. The words just wouldn’t come out; I kept telling myself it had to be a perfect moment.
Instead, we readied ourselves to leave the bungalow to collect Eilidh and Lewis. I’d offered to take them into Inverness for back-to-school shopping to give Regan and Thane some time to themselves.
“Got everything?” Mac asked as he grabbed the car keys off my sideboard.
It might as well be our sideboard, I thought, as I nodded and followed him to the door.
We were practically living together. And doing it well!
I thought it would be an adjustment to give up my autonomy, but Mac wasn’t like any man I’d dated before.
Perhaps it was his age, but he was a million times more mature than any of the men I’d dated.
He told me when he was having a bad day, when he had to fight a little harder against the doubts in his mind that he wasn’t good enough.
He always asked about my feelings, and I knew he genuinely wanted to know.
Plus, Mac could compromise like nobody’s business.
Nothing was a hassle for him. He didn’t make the small things into big things.
And bonus points—the man was tidy! Years of looking after himself meant he cleaned up at his back.
There was no fighting over dirty laundry or dishes or anything silly like that.
The only thing we “argued” over was what to watch on television, and honestly, I didn’t care.
I just enjoyed teasing him. Life with Mac was easy, this miraculous, complex mix of serenity and explosive passion.
And the thought of him not being in my house filled me with dread.
Mac opened the door and stepped outside.
I had to tell him.
“Mac, I—”
A low bang sounded in the distance seconds before Mac grunted, his right shoulder flying backward.
Then he whipped around, face pale, expression haggard with fear as he threw himself over me.
Confusion slowed my thoughts, my understanding.
There was another bang, and his body jerked against mine.
Suddenly, I was flying back into the house, my head rattling off the hallway floor as Mac collapsed over me.
“Fuck!” he gritted out as he used his long legs to slam the door shut. “Stay down and crawl into the bedroom hallway!”
I could only watch as he locked the door, and then suddenly, there was a shattering sound and the glass pane at the top of my door rained down over Mac’s head.
“Mackennon!”
Understanding dawned.
We were being shot at.
We were being fucking shot at!
Mac was shot.
Terror filled me. “Mackennon!”
He slumped down behind the door, his color worryingly pale, his features etched with pain. “Arro, make sure the doors are locked, but stay low.”
“I’m calling the police.” I fumbled in my purse.
“Arro, doors!”
“I can do both.” My hands shook as I grabbed my phone. “We need to slow the bleeding.”
He nodded calmly. Too calmly. “Doors first. You can’t help me if you get shot too.”
That had me moving. Staying low, I called the police as I scrambled into the kitchen toward the patio doors. A reassuring dispatcher assured me police and an ambulance were on the way and told me to find somewhere to hide. I couldn’t. My mind reeled.
Mac. Who was shooting at us? Why?
I’d just locked the kitchen door when my kitchen window blasted out behind me. I stifled a fearful shriek as it lodged in my throat and huddled against a kitchen cupboard, hiding.
Then I heard a click and an exasperated curse. Another click. Another curse.
Was the shooter’s gun empty of bullets?
In retrospect, it was sheer stupidity, but all I could think about was Mac bleeding in my hallway. Rage filled me as I stood to look out the window, and I saw someone in a black ski mask staring furiously at the house, gun dropped at their side.
At her side.
That was definitely a female figure in the tight black clothes.
What the hell?
I raced for the patio doors and unlocked them. And as I stepped outside, our attacker looked over at me in shock … but then raised her gun.
“I know you’re empty!” I snarled like an animal and flew at her.
It was almost comical the way she reared back in fright. Not so tough now without her gun.
But me? The fury inside me was equal to a loaded weapon.
The shooter ran around the corner of the house and I gave chase, shrieking my wrath like a woman gone mad.
She was fast, but I was bloody faster. Once she hit my front garden, I launched myself at her back, my teeth crashing against my top lip, the taste of blood on my tongue, as I hit her with my full weight.
Her garbled shout died as I slammed on top of her.
She tried to wriggle free, but I pressed my knee into her back.
“Stay down!” I yelled. The gun had scattered out of reach.
“Arro!”
I looked up to see one of my neighbors racing across the street toward me. A quick glance told me a few had come out of their houses at the noise.
Paul Wiley, a teacher at our small high school, lowered beside me and helped hold the shooter down. “What the hell?” he asked, eyes behind his glasses round with shock.
Suddenly, the whole situation hit me, and my tears welled. “She shot Mackennon. I need to check on him.”
Paul turned green but nodded before shouting over his shoulder. “Ronnie! Here! We need you!”
Ronnie, another neighbor, was a recently retired computer engineer. Older, but a big man, and he loped quickly across the street to help, holding down the screeching bitch beneath us as Paul took my place without losing his hold on her.
“Have you got her?” I double-checked, already walking backward toward the house.
“Yes, go get Mac.”
“What on earth?” I heard Ronnie ask as I fled around the side of the house and inside.
“Mackennon!” I called out as I grabbed towels and hurried back to him.
He’d moved away from the door. Blood smeared my hallway walls.
Hysterical tears threatened, but I forced them down as I raced over to him.
The dark navy of his T-shirt was soaked from a shot to the shoulder. But there had been two shots fired. “Where else are you hit?” I demanded, shaking as I pressed a towel to his shoulder. So much blood. It coated my hands.
“The shooter?” he asked, the words too faint in my ears.
“We’ve got her. My neighbors have her pinned in the garden. Her gun ran out of bullets or jammed or something.”
“Her?”
“I don’t know who it is yet—ski mask. Mackennon, other wound?” I caressed his face, trying to get him to focus on me.
His eyes met mine, but they weren’t right. They were glazed over, the light in them dimmed. Tears fell before I could stop them. “Back,” he told me.
He’d been shot in the back.
Because he’d covered me with his body.
“Mackennon.” I leaned down and kissed him, my tears falling onto his chest. “Stay awake, Mac.” I pressed harder on his wound to stem the blood, and he grunted. “Sorry.” I scattered wet kisses along his jaw. “Please.”
“Arro,” he whispered, just as his eyes closed.
Frantically, I searched for his pulse. Too slow. Thready.
“Where is that ambulance?” I cried.
As if in answer, I heard the sirens in the distance.
But Mac’s pulse was fading beneath my fingertips.
“No! Mackennon.” I sobbed over him. “Don’t leave me.
I love you. Please don’t leave me. Please.
I love you.” Time held no meaning as I begged and pleaded with him, hoping he could hear me, hoping he would fight.
The world bled out as I lived inside my fear.
Not another man I loved. I couldn’t watch another man I loved die in my arms. “Mackennon!”
“Miss, out of the way.”
“Miss?”
“Get her out of the way.”
Hands grabbed at me, pulling me from Mac. I raged in fury at the shadowy figures holding me back until the picture in front of me started to make sense.
Paramedics moved quickly over Mac.
“Still got a faint pulse. Let’s go.”
I watched as if through a piece of warped glass as they struggled to get his big body onto a stretcher. I saw the blood all over my hallway floor and smeared across my walls. Mackennon’s blood. Sounds grew muffled in my ears as I followed them out into the garden.
Men, policemen, blocked my way as I tried to get into the ambulance with him.
Questions, they had questions.
Fuck their questions!
Then my neighbors were there, and two other police officers had the shooter in their hands. Her ski mask had been removed.
A young brunette I didn’t recognize glared back at me with all the hatred in the world.
“I hope he fuckin’ dies,” she snarled. “His lot took ma Craig, and naebody else gave a fuck. But we did. We never forgot whit happened. And I hope the bastard dies fur it.”
I flew at her.
I think I broke her nose before they hauled me off her.
It wasn’t enough.
At that moment, I wanted to kill her for what she’d done. I didn’t care about her pain. All I felt was fear and rage. In fact, I’d never experienced rage like it.
I heard the threat coming out of my mouth, the words that I’d end her if Mackennon died.
In all my fury and viciousness, it was no wonder I ended up in handcuffs right alongside the bitch.