Chapter Fourteen #3
Had it, maybe Devon Slater wouldn’t have been such a cuntwaffle.
Sarah nodded.
“She said she loves you, and she’s backed away so that Ceit can answer you.”
Good.
Now, they were talking.
“Her father stole it. Before she fell from the window, he ripped it from her. She never took it off. She promised him that she wouldn’t. Again, there’s that name again. Cathal. Cathal. Cathal. I don’t know why she’s giving me a location in Ireland.”
Apparently, that was going to be key.
“Is it in his grave with him?” Elizabeth asked for clarification to be sure.
She nodded.
“Yes. He stole her heart, and even in death, he holds it hostage. She needs your help. It’s like the rosary you wear from your love. You never take it off, and she never did either. Her father won’t give it up easily. It’s valuable.”
Well, she did actually take it off.
When she showered or when they were rolling around in bed, committing acts of kinkery.
It was weird to wear a rosary when you were in a four-man orgy.
“Okay, so Oison has it. One last question,” Elizabeth stated.
The woman waited.
“Were the letters created to protect all of them?” she asked. “Or were they genuine love letters?”
Sarah listened.
“From Duncan to his lover, yes. That was true love. From her to Duncan, no. It was Duncan’s idea to keep her safe while he was away at war.
He did love her,” she said. “There is one where she talks about his lover, and wanting him gone. At some point, she felt threatened. Like she would be sent away because of him.”
Oh, well, that was exactly what happened.
“And he loved her?” Elizabeth asked.
They waited.
“Yes, but more like a child. He had no desire to be with her, since he’d found his love.”
That was pretty much what she thought.
“Thank you, Sarah.”
The woman got it.
She was being dismissed.
“If you want to talk, I’m an excellent listener,” she offered. “Gabby knows where to find me.”
Well, that was kind, but she absolutely wasn’t trusting anyone outside of her circle to ‘talk’. If she wanted to get something off of her chest, she could go to Callie and have a therapy session.
Random conversations ended up sold to the tabloids, and she wasn’t burning her family that way.
Yeah, that wasn’t happening in her world because it couldn’t happen.
Unfortunately, people betrayed for the simplest thing, and it was only a matter of time before someone told the media she was in Scotland.
She didn’t put it past people.
“Thank you.”
And she left it at that.
Getting up, Graham knew it was time to escort Sarah out. Since this was Elizabeth’s home, too, and it was clear she wanted her gone, he’d handle it.
So, he held out his hand.
“Let me show you to the door,” he said.
The woman said nothing else, but instead headed out with him.
And Elizabeth was quiet.
“Well, I guess we’re definitely digging up a dead dude,” she finally said. “Oison’s grave it is.”
Because he felt the tension that hadn’t been there before, he focused on the others.
“Can I have a moment alone with my wife?” he asked, knowing she needed it. She definitely needed to talk. Elizabeth felt…rattled.
And he didn’t want her to be off balance.
Not because it was dangerous, this time, but because he loved her.
At his request, they got it.
Gabby kissed Elizabeth on the cheek, and both she and Michael headed out without a word. They closed the library door behind them to give them quiet to talk.
When they were gone, he moved so she could sit between his legs as he leaned against the arm of the couch.
Elizabeth didn’t hesitate to get comfortable, so he held her.
For a good three or four minutes, neither spoke.
Ethan just let her process everything that had gone down, and gave her time to adjust to her emotions. Sometimes, you wanted to just think in the privacy of your own haunted castle’s library.
This was one of those times.
Finally, after a few minutes went by, she was curious.
“Was I rude?” she asked. “Because I wasn’t trying to be that way toward her. I just don’t deal with this kind of thing well.”
Oh, he was aware.
To comfort her, Ethan had his arms wrapped around her as he shared that space with her.
“Nope. You were definitely not rude. I’ve seen you get angsty, punchy, and bitchy. That was more like skepticism and a neutral response.”
She was glad because Sarah hadn’t done a thing to upset her. She couldn’t imagine having the dead in her mind yapping at her all day long.
Instead, they were in her world, making her solve their murders.
“But I wasn’t friendly.”
He shared.
“You’re not responsible for being friendly in an interaction that you didn’t ask for,” he stated. “She came here, unrequested, and your response was appropriate. You don’t have to give people space in your life when you never wanted them in it.”
She was curious.
“Would you have wanted to talk to her more if it was your mother?” she asked. “If it was your Catherine?”
Ethan considered it.
“No. I don’t think I would have. I’ve spoken to her at her grave and in my head. If she’s around, she knows how much I love her. She wouldn’t need me to keep dwelling on it. I think you gave an appropriate response considering she’s been gone for almost forty years, Elizabeth.”
She relaxed.
He had a point.
“Honestly, EJ, I’m tired of dwelling on it. I’m tired of having that wound reopened.”
Then, she went there.
“I lied.”
He waited.
“When I told Devon Slater that digging them up didn’t hurt me, that wasn’t the truth.
Seeing my father’s skull…it devastated me.
Her, not as much, but Charlie. God. I miss him so goddamn much.
Not a day goes by when I don’t think about him and wish I’d saved him.
He’d be Wyler’s age, and he’d be here busting balls like a champ. I miss my father.”
Oh, he could tell.
While she’d not lost her shit when Devon dug up her parents, he knew it still hit a sore spot. Elizabeth was damn good at masking her feelings—even if it cost her a lot.
There was no way on earth that seeing her father’s grave disturbed didn’t kick the shit out of her heart. She just wasn’t going to let Devon win on that one.
“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish the same thing for you, and for myself, Elizabeth. One of the hardest things in life is saying goodbye to your parents, especially when they were your whole world. I just wish I could have met Charlie, and that you could have met my mother.”
Her too.
Now, though, she didn’t want to hurt anymore. It had been a rough year, and her heart had been kicked all over the place.
“How much do I owe you, Doctor Blackhawk?” she asked knowing he was psycho-analyzing the hell out of her, and playing the role of shrinky dink.
Oh, and she appreciated that.
“Maybe a kiss, a roll in the hay later in the barn, and a rousing game of slap and tickle,” he said, as he proceeded to tickle her.
After she laughed and tried to get away, she snorted.
“Goofball.”
Yes, he was when it came to her.
“Thanks for calming me down, buying me some space, and giving me peace to come to grips with it. I really wish the dead would stay dead.”
Yeah, him too.
But then again, they wouldn’t have their adventure if that was the case.
Now, would they?
“Anything for you. I’m glad I was here for you to lean on me. It feels nice.”
She agreed.
Then, she blindsided him.
“Then why aren’t you sharing with me what is bothering you? Because I can feel that tension in you. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Oof.
Well, she’d nailed that.
Clearly, she wasn’t nearly as distracted as he’d believed, or she wouldn’t pick up on it.
“Is it me?” she asked.
He sighed.
“No. It’s something not related to you, but it does affect you. It affects all of us, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
She turned and faced him.
“What is going on?” she asked. “You heard what my mother said. Secrets are a problem.”
Deep down, he knew that. He just didn’t know how to tell her or what to do about the whole Shaman situation, but he trusted her.
So, he was honest.
“I don’t want to burden you with more. You’ve carried all of my bullshit already.”
She stopped him.
“But you want me to share, but you don’t have to? That doesn’t seem productive, Mr. Blackhawk, now does it?” she asked. “We’re here to rebuild, not stay broken.”
And she had him there.
“You’re right.”
He took a minute and Ethan considered how to tell her about it.
Then, he opted to just go there.
“The new reservation chief came to us at the FBI. He’s not happy we didn’t come to him directly when Rayna and Lance were killed. He wants me to choose. It’s either the FBI or Shaman. I can’t be both. In their eyes, it’s betrayal to my people due to the issues in the past.”
She listened.
And didn’t judge.
“So, I’m here not only to be with you, but because in a way, I’m also running again, and it doesn’t sit well with me. That seems to be what I do best.”
Oh, hell.
She’d said that to him when they’d been arguing, and now, she regretted it—like he regretted what he’d said about his faith in her.
Apparently, this was proof that nothing good came out of saying shitty things when you were pissed.
Here was the reason why.
“I’m sorry that I said that to you. If I could, I’d take it back. We were both in the wrong,” she said, hoping he’d let her help him, like he helped her. “What are you going to do?”
He laughed.
Honestly, he had no idea.
“Well, if I stay with the FBI, we can go back to DC. If I stay as a Shaman, I can’t work cases with my family, and will need to turn in my badge. Only, that’s important to me too. Once more, I’m straddling both worlds, and I feel like I’m not in either one.”
She understood that.
Oh, more than anyone.
“So, I figured I’d work through it at some point and make up my mind when I had no other choice. I’ll wing it, I guess.”
She didn’t judge and didn’t give him a suggestion because he hadn’t asked her what to do, he’d wanted someone to listen.
“I support you either way. I know that no matter what you choose, it will all work out.”
Honestly, he’d been waiting for advice. This was NOT advice.
So, he was curious.
“What would you do?” he asked.