30. Murray
There were so many things I would rather have been doing that morning.
Foremost in my mind was London and the electric air of anticipation that buzzed between us.
Last night after Kelly interrupted us to inform me about my impending performance at open mic night, my daughter had insisted on helping me practice.
London sat with us for a while until exhaustion had her excusing herself.
Her early mornings at the B and B meant early nights in bed, which equaled not very much time for us in the evenings.
No time at all to tell her that I wanted to make a go at a real relationship with her.
I didn’t want a rushed conversation with her in the morning, so I decided on a different route to tell her how I felt. This method had worked for us before, so I was willing to give it another chance.
First, I had to face Joshua Hughes for the second time.
The psychopath came over on an early-morning ferry to meet with me and Fraser at Fraser’s holiday let. It was a small cottage on the eastern peninsula where no one would notice us coming and going.
The vengeful, wrathful side of me I’d vowed to crush the day I’d beaten up my father attempted to rear his violent head as soon as Hughes walked into the cottage. Because I was pretty sure I could kill this motherfucker right here and now and Fraser would help me get rid of the body.
It was an awful, desperate thought, but that’s what happened when evil threatened everything you held dear.
We handed over our devices like last time, but Hughes gestured toward the door. “Let’s talk outside.”
Had their paranoia finally set in? The recording device DC McCubbins had provided was taped under the kitchen breakfast table. There was nothing else for it but to head outside or draw suspicion.
“You made the right decision,” Hughes stated as soon as Fraser and I had joined him in the front garden. It was less of a garden than a small field that abutted Farmer Kippin’s land.
I held Hughes’s gaze, refusing to be intimidated by him despite his apparent lack of conscience.
“Let’s make things clear … I’ve agreed to do this, but Fraser and I will be captaining the crew on that first boat.
And if you or either of the Walsh brothers come for my family again, and that does include Jill, I will take as many of you out as I can before you get to me. Do you understand?”
The younger man considered my warning. “I’ve explained to the Walshes that you’re not a man to be crossed.” He leaned forward. “But neither are they. So, here’s the plan …”
It was as Hughes had explained last time but in more detail. He’d written down dates, times, and the name of the boat we’d be intercepting off the coast of Ireland. The Iris.
“The bloke captaining the Iris is called Russo. Italian bloke. If he smells anything fishy going on—pardon the pun—he will take a machete to your entire crew.”
“Charming,” I murmured.
“Once he’s delivered the packages, he’ll help you hide them properly.
Your contact at the port in Dublin is a woman called Siobhan Cosway.
Of course, you’ll need to register your plan to dock at the port for commercial delivery, but as an upstanding, established fishing company, that should be no problem. ”
“Except I’ve never delivered to Dublin before or delivered directly off the fishing boat. I have refrigerated boats that do that for us.”
“Very fancy.” Hughes rolled his eyes. “Look, the port inspectors won’t give a shit about that.
Just get your boat registered to dock and Siobhan will be there waiting for you with a refrigerated van ready to be loaded with fresh fish and coke.
They’ve already got a guy in place working customs and excise so the boat won’t be searched.
You do not transfer anything until Siobhan transfers money over to us.
We’ll call you to let you know it’s done and then you begin delivery.
Don’t worry about them taking it without paying.
Siobhan knows if she tries anything, the Walshes will mount her head on a fucking stick. ”
My jaw clenched so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t shatter as I glared out toward the mainland of Scotland.
Never in my wildest nightmares would I have ever thought I’d find myself mixed up in the grimy, violent world of drug trafficking.
I wanted to take a shower and scour this meeting from my body. From my mind.
“We done here?” I asked gruffly.
“We’re done. Next time, you meet me on the mainland. I hate this fucking island.” Hughes walked over to his vehicle and jumped in. Neither Fraser nor I spoke until he disappeared out of sight.
“You don’t have to do this.” I turned to my cousin. “I know you’ve got Eileen and the kids to think about. I can do this alone.”
Fraser shook his head. “No way, cuz. You changed my life when you took me off the fishing boats and made me head of charter. And not just financially.” He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable as he stared out at the water.
“Who knows what our fathers endured at the hands of our grandfather to make them such unlikable bastards. We don’t talk about it, but I know what your dad was like, Mur.
Mine could give you a cuff around the ear every now and then, but he didn’t need to lift his hands to do damage.
Why do you think Alana left as soon as she turned eighteen? ”
Alana was Fraser’s big sister. I hadn’t seen or spoken to my older cousin since she’d fled the island all those years ago.
I’d always suspected my uncle was as much of a prick as my father had been.
He died two years after Dad, and no one really missed him either.
My aunt Doreen, Fraser and Alana’s mum, had moved back to the mainland after my uncle’s death.
“Every day of my life, Dad called me stupid and worthless and made me feel like I wouldn’t amount to anything.
” Fraser shrugged helplessly. “You trusting me to help build this company into what it is did more for me than you’ll ever know.
” My cousin faced me, his countenance more sincere than I’d ever seen it.
“There is no way I’m letting you go this alone. Eileen understands I need to do this.”
Gratitude overwhelmed me. It took me a few seconds to speak through the emotion. “I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
Fraser clapped me on the shoulder. “And I you.”
We had to wait for confirmation that Hughes had left the island before DI Paul came out to the cottage to get the intel from us. He was frustrated by the lack of recording but told us he’d relay the information to DI Smith and DC McCubbins and we’d go from there.
The event was to take place the week after London’s trip to Glasgow for Taran’s bridal shopping thing. It reassured me that London would be safe and back on the island while it all went down.
I didn’t want to think too long and hard on what I’d have to do in several weeks’ time. I just wanted to forget for a while and bury myself in something good.
Therefore, I decided to practice my song change for open mic night. Hopefully, it would lead the way in transforming what was between me and London.
The day dragged as the sky sprinkled intermittent spells of drizzle in between outbreaks of mild sunshine.
After practice, I returned to the office to catch up on work.
Distracted, I texted back and forth with London, checking in to make sure she was recovered from yesterday’s panic attack.
When she didn’t respond to my last inquiry, I called her.
“Is Kelly okay?” she asked without preamble.
It gratified me that her first thought was for my daughter. “Kelly is fine. You didn’t respond to my last text. I wanted to make sure you’re okay. And I want an honest answer.”
She’d blown out a shaky breath, making the line crackle.
“He used to warn me—Nick. He used to insinuate that his family could get away with murder. Being this far away from him makes me feel somewhat safe but, despite Ramsay’s assurances, I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe until …
I don’t know. Ramsay said something big was coming for the entire family.
Maybe if the Hustons have less power, I’ll finally feel safe. ”
The very idea that London always felt like she was looking over her shoulder made me desperate to take that fear from her. “You are safe, London,” I insisted. “But I can come get you right now if that’ll help.”
I thought I heard a smile in her voice. “No. I’m good. I really am. I’m stronger than I look. Like you said, I’m safe. I’ll see you soon.”
Deciding to wait until we saw each other at dinner, I left it at that.
The next step for us would be one I’d have to learn to navigate in balance.
Clearly, I’d been treating her like she was fragile, and I had to stop that.
But I never ever wanted to cross a line with her either.
London would have to get used to letting me into her thoughts, letting me know what she needed and didn’t need. I was a quick learner.
Mum picked Kelly up from school and insisted on making dinner for us all. Kelly tried to insist she didn’t need a babysitter while London and I were out at the Lantern, but I wasn’t taking any chances with her safety now. Not until the Walshes were permanently out of our lives.
While I had a moment to check in with London, it wasn’t until we were in my SUV heading toward the Lantern that we could speak about the Hustons.
Thankfully, London seemed much less shaken up than she had earlier.
“Ramsay can’t say what’s happening, but I keep reminding myself that Nick is under house arrest. He’s not going anywhere …
One day, I know I’ll feel like I’ve rid myself of him forever.
But for now, he’s the boogeyman. The monster in the closet.
All I can do is trust Ramsay is right and that hopefully Nick and his whole family will one day find themselves stripped of all their power, and it will finally, finally be over for me. ”
“Whatever happens, London … I would never let Nick get to you, even if he wasn’t in prison,” I promised. “He has to get past me now.”
There was a moment of tense silence, but I felt her eyes on me, and when I glanced over her lips were parted, her expression confused … but hopeful, perhaps. “Murr—”
My phone rang through the car, blaring and cutting her off.
It was Kelly.
I laughed under my breath because my daughter was becoming a bit of an unintentional block between me and London. “M’eudail?” I answered as I pulled in the carpark off Main Street.
“Just calling you to remind London to film everything.”
London chuckled beside me. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Cool, cool. Have fun!”
“Go to sleep.”
“Dad, I’m fourteen, not six. Nana and I are bingeing an interior design program and it’s giving me lots of ideas for the house.”
“Ooh, yes.” London leaned in. “I’m up for some decorating.”
“Great. Because I was thinking—”
“Why don’t you two talk about this later?” I interrupted, amused at their plans to redecorate our home without me, apparently. “London and I need to get to the pub if I’m to go through with this open mic stuff.”
“Go, go! We’ll design later. Hey, maybe we can ask Ms. McQuarrie if she’ll help us.”
“She’ll charge a fortune, so please don’t. ’Night, m’eudail.” I hung up before she could delay us further, and London giggled.
That sound scored an ache through me.
As I grabbed my guitar from the back of the vehicle, London rounded it to meet me. “It’s so great to see Kelly bright and bubbly.”
I locked up the car, that ache intensifying at the genuine delight on London’s face. “Aye, and I know who we can thank for that.”
“Who?”
She really didn’t know? “You.”
London stumbled to a stop in the middle of the street, the breeze from the water blowing back her hair from her gorgeous face. “Me?”
“You make her feel seen. You reminded her that while her mum might have failed to show her affection, she has lots of people who love her.”
“Oh.” London’s lips twitched, her pleasure obvious. “I … well … I’m glad.”
Anticipation thrummed through me and I almost decided to abandon my plans and just tell her right there and then how I felt.
But I wanted it to be bigger than that.
I wanted London to know she was worth putting myself out there in front of everyone. For her.
Once we met our friends in the Lantern, I was surprised to feel a wee riot of nerves in my gut.
Truthfully, I’d never gotten stage fright.
While I wasn’t an extrovert by any means, I did enjoy performing.
Usually, my preference was behind a drum with four other lads around me, but I wouldn’t have thought I’d be nervous sitting in front of my village with a guitar in hand.
It was the London part of things that made my palms a bit clammy.
The teasing and banter of our friends went over my head as I tried to remember the chords of the song I’d chosen to convey my message. I’d heard London listening to this song a few times since she’d moved in with me, and the lyrics were perfect for what I wanted to say to her.
Our friends all cheered and clapped louder than everyone else when Aodhan announced I was up next.
I grabbed my guitar, shot London a meaningful look, and then took my seat in front of the mic stand.
After I’d adjusted it and settled myself with my guitar, I found London through the dim light of the pub.
“This one is for … my wife.”
Forgetting everyone else, my gaze fixed firmly on the woman who had captivated me from the first moment we met, I strummed the opening chords to Marc Scibilia’s “More to This,” hoping she’d hear every word, that the moment I finished the song it would mean the moment our life together truly began …