Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
CALLIE
TWO WEEKS LATER
Icouldn’t sleep.
Tomorrow Lewis and I were taking time off work to travel into Inverness for our gender scan.
Knowing the sex of the wee peanut growing in my belly was going to make it even more real.
My bump was still more of a swell, but Verity said that was perfectly normal at twenty-one weeks.
Not everyone had an obvious bump at this stage and sometimes it took until the end of the second trimester for it to be noticeable.
Lewis had been working long hours on a project with his dad these past few weeks and between that and watching over me like a hawk, I knew he was exhausted emotionally too.
I didn’t want to wake him as I’d lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, stomach churning with anticipation.
So, I quietly slipped out and left a note for him that I’d be at the bakery.
I had a couple of new creations in mind to try out.
There was one that was inspired by the Hungarian Esterházy torte, which was a cake made of layers of buttercream sandwiched between almond meringue.
Mine consisted of hazelnut dacquoise and chocolate too.
I wanted to recreate them into little miniature desserts topped with chocolate ribbons.
The Gloaming hadn’t shut its doors yet, so there was still a hum of noise spilling out from the building into the village as I drove past. Cars were parked out front and a few people still strolled down Castle Street.
I let myself into the bakery and began working on my version of the Esterházy.
First, I wrote down everything swirling in my head into a coherent list and drew a picture of the dessert.
Then I started finessing the idea on paper.
Of course, I wouldn’t know for certain if the recipe worked until I baked it, but I had a good palate, so I had an idea of what would and would not work.
I was barely there twenty minutes when I heard the sound of rattling.
I jolted, pulse leaping as I turned and stared at the back door to the bakery. I locked it behind me, hadn’t I? The blinds were drawn on the window that overlooked the car park, but a shadow flickered behind it.
“Lewis?” I called.
There was silence.
And then the door rattled more fiercely.
My stomach dropped.
I didn’t even make it to my purse for my phone when the back door suddenly flew open and two strange men strode inside, closing it calmly behind them.
The men from the break-ins.
Had Nathan sent them?
Chest heaving, my eyes flew to my handbag. It was too far away.
There would be no option but to fight, if it came to it. I got into a defensive stance, holding my arms up.
One of the men raised an eyebrow.
The other sighed heavily. “No fight.” He had an accent. “Où est-elle?”
He was French? “What?” I gestured with my fist. “This is private property. Get out.”
“Où est-elle?” he insisted, menace flashing in his eyes.
“Get. Out,” I repeated, chest heaving.
The other man gave a quick swipe of his head and pulled out a switchblade. “Où est-elle?” he repeated. “Easy way? Or hard way?”
Fear shuddered through me as I glanced down at my belly. I had more than me to protect now.
I threw myself across the room at the magnetic strip on the wall where we kept a large kitchen knife and turned in time to block the swipe of his blade.
His companion started ransacking the bakery shelves as I fought off his clumsy swipes.
I nicked him with my knife, and he dropped his switchblade, surprise flaring in his eyes as I abandoned the knife behind me and began punching out with force.
Everything I’d been taught for the last fifteen years coalesced into this moment.
My breathing centered as I used body hook punches to attack and then defend his blows, forcing him toward the door.
He had strength, but I had speed and skill he wasn’t prepared for.
When he kicked up with his leg, clipping my hip way too close to my belly, fury flooded through me.
It fired me up, and I spun around on my left foot, launching into him with a jump-back kick that sent him flying into the rear entrance door and slumping to the ground, stunned.
I felt his friend come up behind me. I sidestepped the blow he threw to the back of my head, panting and grunting as I fought him off now.
He was sprier, quicker, as he corralled me toward the front store.
I kicked out, a front kick into his solar plexus, knocking the breath out of him.
But suddenly, his companion was on his feet again, and I backed around the counter into the bakery store, my hands up, gauging how to fight them both off in such a tight space.
The sprier one jumped forward, rage contorting his features. I ducked his punch, swerving around the blow, only to grab his hair as I came up. Screaming with fury, I smashed his head into the counter, glass breaking beneath the strength of my adrenaline-fueled dunk.
“Fucking bitch!” The bigger guy rushed forward as I reversed, but he tripped over his downed companion and as he tried to stabilize himself, I twisted with my right side, throwing out a high side kick, snapping my knee back and then out.
I felt the power of the blow to his head reverberate down my shin.
It didn’t knock him out, but it stunned him long enough for me to rush to the front entrance.
My hands shook as I hurried to unlock the door, throwing it open, cool summer night air drawing me out.
“Help!” I screamed as soon as I ran onto the street.
However, Castle Street was quiet, not a soul in sight.
Except for the Gloaming. There was still light at the Gloaming. Still a few cars. Relief crashed over me as I moved to run toward it.
“Take another step, and you die.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I found the bigger of the men (the one not smashed into my bakery counter) standing on the pavement, a gun in his hand.
“I did not want it to come to this.”
In an instant, I was a child again and Nathan was waving a gun in my face.
Fear caused my knees to tremble, and I couldn’t stop shaking as I began backing out onto the road. “P-please.” I raised my hands defensively. “I don’t know what you want.”
“It. Where is it?” he asked in guttural French, walking onto the road to keep the gun pointed in my face.
Just out in the open. Where anyone could see. His recklessness terrified me even more than the gun.
Sweat dripped down his forehead. “Where is it?”
“Nathan didn’t send you, did he?” I whispered in horrified realization.
The man frowned in confusion. “Where is it?” he repeated.
“I don’t know what ‘it’ is,” I replied with surprising calm. “Tell me what ‘it’ is.”
“No. No games.” He waved his gun. “Or I shoot you.”
Tears burned in my eyes. “Please. Please. I’m pregnant.”
“Don’t care, bitch. You have five seconds.”
“You’re really going to shoot me in the middle of the street? There are cameras on this street.”
“My employer will take care of that. Five. Four—”
Oh my God. Terror threatened to buckle my knees now, and I tried to think, think, think through it. Lewis.
Lewis.
I tried not to sob at the thought of what this would do to him.
“Two—”
A loud roar suddenly caught our attention, both of our heads whipping left. I winced against the glare of car headlights, heart jumping into my throat as those lights sped toward me, the sound of the tires squealing, the engine growls filling my ears.
Those lights swerved past me and straight into the Frenchman.
The impact threw him into the air as brakes shrieked on tarmac and the car skidded to a stop. My attacker crashed into the road a good thirty yards from us with a gross-sounding thud.
He didn’t get back up.
The car door flew open, and a stilettoed foot appeared, followed by an ashen-faced Carianne.
I gaped at her as she wobbled out toward me on shaking legs. Her eyes were wide as they met mine. “Did I just bloody kill a man?”
My eyes flew to where he was still lifeless. “Well, let’s hope so.”
“I’m going to be sick.” Carianne bent over and vomited onto the road.
I hurried to her, pulling her hair away from her face as my neighbors began poking their heads out of their doors and windows.
“I’ve called the police!” someone shouted.
“Are you two okay?” someone else asked.
I couldn’t stop shaking, but I was alive.
Carianne stood up, wiping her mouth. “What … I just saw … I was coming out of the pub.” She gestured toward the Gloaming, clearly in shock. “And he had a gun pointed in your face … so … I didn’t know what else to do.”
I grasped her cheeks in my hands. “Carianne, you saved my life and my baby’s life.”
“Did I really?” She wrapped her hands around my wrists, still wide-eyed, so much so I was genuinely concerned she was going into shock. “Well, that’s quite something, isn’t it.”
I laughed tearfully. “Aye, my friend. That’s quite something.”
We embraced hard while our neighbors hurried over to us. I was vaguely aware of explaining the attack and informing them of the man still inside the bakery. So intent on Carianne, however, watching her for signs of shock … I hadn’t realized I was going through it myself.
I didn’t even remember passing out.