Chapter 35 Arran
ARRAN
“If you want to leave, Arran, leave. But never come back.”
Eredine’s words pounded in my head over and over as I sat in Lachlan’s kitchen, nursing the beer my eldest brother had set before me.
I kept trying to tell myself that this was for the best and that once all this was over, I could convince Ery to give me another chance.
If I was worthy of another chance.
If I could learn to be less selfish and think before I took what I wanted.
My gut churned, and the beer didn’t help, but still, I swallowed another sip.
Arro and Mac had promised they’d go to Ery’s and convince her to stay with them for now. Arro said she would text to let me know once they had her home with them, safe and sound, but I hadn’t heard anything yet.
“I’m going next door to spend time with Regan.” Robyn brought my head up from my phone. I sat on a bar stool at their kitchen counter. Robyn gave me a worried look before leaning up to kiss the corner of Lachlan’s mouth.
His hand automatically grazed her belly as he bent his head for her, and I envied him as he shared a tender look with his wife.
When she was gone, Lachlan sat on the stool beside mine. He studied me, brows creased with concern. “Why are you here and not with Ery?”
“She’s safe,” I promised him. “Mac and Arro are with her.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Let’s wait on Thane.” I’d asked my brothers to meet me tonight because after that horrific showdown with Ery, I was desperate to solve this god-awful mystery. I wanted to know who was after me and why.
There was only one thing in my past I could think of that might have provoked this, and by not confessing it to my brothers, I was hindering our investigation.
I just hoped they didn’t think too badly of me once I told them the truth. I had to hope that I’d proven myself enough in the last year, that they’d know I was trying not to be such a fuckup.
And failing.
I was fucking things up to an epic degree with Eredine.
I missed her already.
The sound of Lachlan’s front door opening broke me from my miserable musings. “Just me!” Thane called a few seconds before he appeared.
He took one look at us, at our beers, sighed heavily, and yanked open the fridge. We waited as he took out a beer, popped the cap, and leaned against the counter opposite us. “What now?” he asked after a quick swig.
Lachlan gestured to me. “Ask Mystery Man here.”
Thane turned to me.
I exhaled nervously.
Before I could overthink it, I told them about what happened to Colin in Thailand.
By the time my words trailed off, my head was bowed in shame.
It didn’t matter that Brodan and Eredine had shown me compassion, that they’d tried to tell me it wasn’t my fault.
I couldn’t let go of the blame. And part of me was waiting for my elder brothers’ condemnation to validate my own messed-up feelings.
Instead, I felt Lachlan’s hand curl around my nape. He gave me a squeeze and bent to press his forehead to mine.
He didn’t say a word.
And I swear that act of quiet comfort and compassion broke me.
I turned into him, like I was that three-year-old who’d clung to him after our mother died or the twenty-seven-year-old who’d felt like a boy again when our father died.
I gripped my brother so tight as I tried to hold back tears. “I’m sorry,” I choked out.
Lachlan’s voice was gruff as he said, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
I wanted those words to be magical. To erase my guilt like I’d always imagined they might. They didn’t. But they eased my fear that I’d lose all that I’d gained with my family in the past year. Releasing my big brother, I sank back onto my stool and shot a look at Thane.
His eyes were bright. “I wish you’d told us you were carrying this around. But at least Brodan was there for you.”
“Aye. It’s actually a relief to hear that.” Lachlan sighed. “I can’t make you think you’re not to blame for this, Arr. You’ll need to work through that. But for now, we can look into the people involved. I’ll need Colin’s family name.”
I nodded. “And he had a pretty serious girlfriend. She outright blamed me for his death.”
Lachlan raised an eyebrow. “We’ll definitely need her name.”
“Does Ery know?” Thane asked.
“Aye, I told her before we got together. The night of the ceilidh when Lachlan and I got drunk … that was the anniversary of Colin’s death.”
“Fuck,” Thane huffed. “I wish we’d known.”
“We know now.” Lachlan studied me. “Have you told Ery you’re worried there’s a connection between Colin’s death and the harassment?”
My stomach lurched. “No. I … uh … I fucked up again. Just like with Colin.” I explained about my need to be public with my affection for Eredine after weeks of having to keep our relationship hidden.
“It was so fucking caveman of me. I wasn’t thinking about anything else but what I wanted.
And I should have known better. I put us out there. ”
Thane scowled. “Wait a minute … Does Eredine not have a part to play in this? Is she not a grown woman who knew exactly what she was doing kissing you in public?”
“It’s not the same.”
“I’m pretty sure she’d feel like it was,” Lachlan said, raising an eyebrow. “Or were you not present when she gave me that speech?”
Renewed guilt flickered through me. “I … I broke things off with her today.”
The mood in the room changed swiftly, and I could feel my brothers’ combined anger.
I hurried to explain, “If I put distance between us, then maybe whoever this is will back off Ery if they think she’s not important enough in my life to use against me.”
My brothers shared a knowing look that annoyed the shit out of me. “And what did Eredine say to that?” Lachlan asked.
“If you want to leave, Arran, leave. But never come back.”
I flinched. “She told me not to bother coming back. Ever. But that’s just the heat of the moment. I can convince her after this is all over to take me back.”
They were silent for so long, my already weak confidence crumbled.
“Right?”
Lachlan took a sip of beer before saying, “We understand more than anyone the guilt and need to protect the woman you care about. Thane and I have been there. But from our experience, all you’ll do is push her away.
She specifically said she doesn’t want to be treated like glass.
I think that infers she also doesn’t want to be treated as a problem that needs solving.
You don’t want her to get hurt, and I understand that.
But”—he laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed as he offered harsh words in a gentle tone—“you probably just hurt her more than anyone could. She probably feels more alone now than ever.”
EREDINE
When I woke, I had a moment of panic. The pillow didn’t smell like my perfume or Arran’s cologne, and the room was darker than it should be. As my eyes adjusted, I remembered where I was.
Arro and Mac’s guest room in the bungalow, currently filled with boxes. Their new house was almost ready, and they’d started packing for the move.
That meant Arran’s house was almost ready too. We hadn’t talked about anything as serious as me moving in, but the fact he’d wanted my opinion on fixtures and finishings had given me hope he was contemplating the idea.
A wave of profound sadness flooded me.
And with it, indignation.
Shoving off the duvet, I sat up and swung my legs out of bed. According to the alarm clock on the bedside table, it was just past five in the morning. Plenty of time to go for my morning jog.
I’d been beyond wounded when I’d returned home to the lodge to find Arran gone and Mac waiting for me. He asked me to pack a bag and pulled the “Arro is pregnant, and I don’t want her stressing about you being here alone” card. So I grabbed what I needed and spent the night here with them.
Not once did Arran call or text.
So I guessed he’d made a decision regarding my ultimatum.
I rubbed the pain in my breastbone, fighting back tears. Reaching for my phone, I switched the screen on, and I froze at the sight of Arran’s name on a notification banner.
Despite the fact that I sort of wanted to ignore him, I didn’t. I swiped open the text message. It was long.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out. I just didn’t want to be the reason you got hurt. I have a meeting this morning, but can we meet for lunch? Let me apologize in person?
The tears I’d been blinking back spilled over as relief flooded me.
I’d never really been one to hold a grudge, unless the act committed against me was completely unforgivable.
Kia had been the grudge holder between us, which was why I’d been shocked it had taken her so long to recognize Ezra Jefferson’s toxicity.
But once she’d made up her mind about something, she stuck to it.
And she’d made up her mind about Ezra. She was never taking him back. He’d killed her for that.
Arran Adair was Ezra Jefferson’s opposite in every way. While I was afraid he’d used the harassment as an excuse to get out of our relationship, that was just my own insecurities talking. It didn’t mean I wasn’t still hurt—I wanted an apology. But I didn’t want to lose him either.
I hit the reply box.
Okay. Let’s meet at my place, though. I don’t want to talk about this in public.
He didn’t respond right away, but he could be sleeping or showering. If he was already awake, maybe he was planning a run on the beach. Maybe I would bump into him there, and we could discuss everything so I wouldn’t have to wish my morning away.
As quietly as possible, I dressed and left the bungalow. When I pulled up to the car park on Ardnoch Beach fifteen minutes later, it was empty.
Arran’s SUV was nowhere in sight.
I tried not to lose hope because he could still show up while I was running.
Long summer days meant the sun was already well on the rise as I jogged onto the lonely sand. There wasn’t a person in sight as I ran along the shoreline. Today’s morning dawned brighter than yesterday’s, and I took that as a good omen.
I used to run with earbuds in before I started running with Arran. But our jogs together had gotten me used to enjoying the sounds of the coast, a perfect symphony not even the best song in the world could beat.
A few miles down, just as I neared a break in the sand with nothing but rocks and water, I turned and started back toward the car park.
The sight of a figure in the distance made my pulse race faster with hope, but as I drew closer, I could tell by the person’s shape it wasn’t Arran. In fact, it wasn’t a guy at all. Another woman jogged down the beach toward me.
Robyn was the only other person I knew who ran along the beach, but Lachlan had asked her not to run without him while she was pregnant, and it was a concession she’d made for him.
They’d taken to running together along on the estate’s shoreline after the doctor said it was safe for her to keep up the exercise since she’d always been a runner.
So it wasn’t Robyn up ahead. Disappointed it wasn’t Arran, I kept my eyes trained on the path in front of me where some of my footprints were still visible from my race along the shore.
My calves and thigh muscles burned, as did my lungs.
It was always worth it, though, for how it felt once I finished.
There was nothing like that adrenaline. Dancing was the same.
That reminded me—Lachlan had agreed to install a ballet barre in my studio (we were still fighting over who would pay for it), and it was arriving next week, which was exciting.
I hadn’t danced since that night with Arran, but once the barre was installed, I planned to practice there in the evenings.
The stranger on the beach drew near enough I could make out her blond hair and navy workout clothes. I didn’t recognize her face, so I assumed she was a tourist. As we neared, just about to pass, I gave her a friendly smile, but she wasn’t looking at me.
It was a shock, then, that as we passed, I saw movement in my peripheral and reflexively turned toward it just in time to see the woman swing at me.
Stumbling out of the run, I raised my arms on instinct to block the punch and cried out at the stinging pain that sliced across my forearm. That was when I saw the knife, now bloodied.
She slashed me, I thought, stunned.
No time to freak out, however, because she lunged again with the knife. Like the muscle memory that had come back while I danced only a few weeks ago, the memory of Robyn’s self-defense lessons took hold, and I dodged her attack and spun around her to slam my foot into the back of her knee.
She cried out, falling to the sand and losing her grip on the blade.
I didn’t hesitate.
I pinned her chest down to the sand and grabbed the weapon to throw it behind me, out of reach.
“Get off me!” the woman yelled.
Time for questions would come. For now, I struggled to keep her secured while I fought for the phone in my yoga pants pocket. Every time I loosened my hold to do it, though, she almost fought free.
I ignored her insults, railed at me like a banshee, and my eyes darted around us as I tried to think.
Then, like heaven-sent angels, a couple walking hand in hand approached in the distance.
I yelled, glad there wasn’t too much wind to carry my words away from them.
After what felt like forever, the couple seemed to realize I was screaming for help. They picked up their pace, running toward us.
Relief made me tearful as I tried to explain what had happened over the ranting denials of the insane woman beneath me.
When they gaped at my arm, that was when I realized how much I was bleeding.
Until that point, I hadn’t even felt the pain.
But as soon as I saw the long wound, a blaze of fire shot up my arm.
Deducing I was not lying, the couple called the police, and the man helped me hold my attacker down until assistance arrived.
Unfortunately, just as we saw the police Jeep driving along the beach toward us, the blood loss and shock became a little too much. At least I assumed so because one minute I was sitting on the crazy woman who’d slashed me, and the next I was waking up in an ambulance.