Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
BECKETT
I have my lips buried in Skyla’s damp hair, quietly simmering with rage. She’s needed me to be gentle tonight, to care for her, to love her, and I’m happy to do that for her, but I’m ready to tear someone apart.
A specific someone.
Skyla startles when the doorbell rings, and I sweep my hand down her spine and back up again.
“That’s them,” I whisper and slide out from under her, then I make my way to the door and open it to find Skyla’s parents, Connor, and Mik, all still dressed to the nines, all with worried scowls on their faces as they walk past me and into the suite.
“Someone’s going to tell me what in the bloody hell is going on,” Patrick insists, his hands fisted at his sides.
I still can’t believe that her parents don’t know about The Asshole. How could she keep this from them, and for all this time?
Mik crosses to Skyla and tugs her up into a hug, then pulls back and holds her face in his hands.
“Did he hurt you, malishka?” Mik asks.
“No,” Skyla says, shaking her head. “No, I was creeped out, but I’m okay. And I need to tell my parents before my da has a stroke.”
Maeve wrings her hands as she sits on the edge of the chair next to Skyla’s.
“You’re scaring me, a stór .”
Skyla’s eyes find mine, and I see the distress in them, so I cross back to her and sit next to her on the sofa. She leans into me and begins telling them the same story she told me when we started this relationship.
I keep my eyes on Patrick and Maeve, who go from scowling, to horror, to fear, and back to anger again. Maeve begins to cry, but Patrick looks like he wants to murder someone. His face is red, and his hands are fisted.
And I know how he feels.
“Tell me your men found him,” I say to Connor, who’s stood back with his hands in his pockets, grinding his teeth this whole time.
“No,” he says quietly, and Skyla’s hand tightens around mine. “Not yet, anyway.”
“He was here ,” Maeve says, shaking her head. “Tonight? But we have the best security money can buy. No one not on the guest list could have gotten in.”
“We’re running an internal investigation,” Connor says, pulling his hand down his face as his phone rings, and he answers it.
“I want to know why I’m just now hearing this tale,” Patrick says. A vein protrudes from his temple, and his face is hard with anger. “If my fecking daughter has been dealing with a bloody stalker all this time, why in the name of all the saints wasn’t I apprised?”
“Because I asked that you not be,” Skyla says. “Because there was nothing you could do.”
“Nothing I could do?” he roars. “You listen to me. I’m Patrick fucking Gallagher, and I have contacts that you’ve never even dreamed of, mo mhuirnin . I’m worth more than fifty billion euros, and I can make that piece of shite disappear from the face of this earth, and no one would ever question it.”
Good. His rage matches my own.
“I can’t prove that he’s done anything illegal,” Skyla continues. “The police told me that he’s a nuisance at worst, and I should ignore him. He used to go away for months at a time. This is the first time that anything has happened since I moved to Montana. I’m not lying about that, Da. I’d hoped that he’d finally lost interest.”
“But he’s why you’re not in New York,” Maeve says. “And he’s why you can’t dance.”
“I’m happy where I am,” Skyla insists as she reaches for her mom’s hand. “No, it’s not how I would have chosen to leave, but I have a full life, and I’m happy. I just need him to stop.”
“You don’t have to say that for my sake,” I tell her, but she turns to me and shakes her head.
“It’s the truth of it, Beckett Blackwell. Bitterroot Valley is my home. I have friends and a home, and a business. And best of all, I have you. I don’t want New York City. I just want him to stop. I don’t want his fecking hands on me.”
“He touched you?” Patrick asks, his voice eerily quiet now, and I can see that that is what had to have terrified his competitors early in his career. Patrick Gallagher isn’t a man you want to cross. “Tonight. He laid hands on you?”
“He touched my back,” Skyla whispers, and I release her hand to wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her against me. “And he whispered in my ear, which gave me the creeps, and I had to wash him off me.”
“He’s a dead man,” Patrick says as he paces.
Mik also paces the room, looking like a pissed-off brother.
Connor’s taking calls across the room and scowling, and then he hangs up and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“I’m putting a team of four men, twenty-four hours a day, at your house,” Connor announces, still looking down at his phone. “We’ll add more cameras to the exterior as well.”
“No.”
All eyes turn to this fiery Irish girl at my side.
“What?” Connor asks, scowling.
“No, I’ve told you before, I don’t want strange men wandering around my property. It’s my home , and I won’t have it. I won’t feel like a prisoner.”
“It’s not to keep you bloody in,” Connor says with more emotion than I’ve seen from him before. “It’s to keep that psychopath out. It’s not up for debate, Skyla Maeve.”
“Don’t think you can use my whole given name and have me folding as if I were a wee girl,” she replies, getting hot now as she sits forward on the sofa, pulling out of my arms.
God, she’s fucking gorgeous when she’s pissed.
“You’ll do what you’re bloody told,” Conner retorts, and I think I just saw steam come out of my girl’s ears.
“He’s right,” Mik interrupts, speaking for the first time. “Malishka, you can’t be stubborn and careless.”
“Careless?” Skyla stands and stomps across the room, shaking her head. “You think I’m fecking careless? I moved my whole life because that arsehole threatened you. Threatened all of you. I disappeared from everything I knew and loved to keep everyone safe, and he finally went away. It’s been almost a year without any contact of any kind, and it’s been the best year I’ve had in so long. Everything was finally starting to feel normal again. If you call living in what might as well be Fort Knox with a highly trained attack dog normal. ”
“Back up,” Connor says. “Who threatened who?”
Skyla’s mossy eyes, so full of emotion, widen, and she clamps her lips closed.
Jesus, I want to hold her.
“What are you talking about, a stór ?” Maeve asks.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, it does,” I reply before anyone else can. “It all matters, Irish.”
She sighs and looks so weary, but then she squares her shoulders and lifts that beautiful chin. “He made it clear that he’d get rid of everyone else in my life, so it was only him and me.”
“What the fuck?” Mik asks. “You did not tell me? Malishka, between your family and mine, we just take care of him.”
“Right, because I want the Russian mafia in my business,” Skyla says with a huff.
“None of this matters,” Connor interrupts. “You’ll have protection, and that’s how it’s going to be.”
Skyla shakes her head, and I cross to her now, taking her face in my hands.
“Baby.” My voice is firm, but I’m not yelling or raising my tone. “I want you to hear me loud and clear right now. Everyone here loves you. We want you to be safe.” Her eyes well as she stares up at me, and her chin wobbles.
“It’s an invasion of my privacy, and I won’t give him that,” she says, her voice rough with emotion.
“I understand. So there’s only one solution to this.”
“What?” A tear falls from the corner of her eye, and I catch it with my thumb.
“You’ll be moving in with me.”
Her brows pull together. “In one of the rentals?”
“Fuck, no.” God, she’s adorable. I can’t help the bark of laughter that slips out. “No, Irish, you’ll be living with me. On my farm. The chickens are now your responsibility.”
She catches that pillow of a lower lip in her teeth and, for the first time since everyone got here, her shoulders drop, and she lets out the breath she’s been holding all evening.
“I love those chickens.”
“I know.”
“But not as much as I love you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“What in the bloody hell is happening?” Connor asks the room at large. “You’ve known each other for two minutes.”
“More like three and a half,” I reply without looking away from my girl. “She’ll be safe with me. I have security on my property, and no one can link her there.”
I wrap my arm around Skyla, tuck her against my side, and turn so I can look at the others in this room, not wavering in my gaze.
If they have a problem with me, they need to speak up now.
“I don’t love it,” Patrick admits. “You’ll need to close down your studio.”
“It’ll be a cold, bloody day in hell before I do that,” Skyla retorts, and I tighten my hold on her. “I have students. I can’t do that.”
“Miller will escort you to and from work then,” Connor offers, but Skyla’s already shaking her head.
“No need,” Mik interrupts. “I’ll be with her at the studio.”
“What?” My girl shakes her head. “You have a life in New York City.”
“We have to rehearse,” Mik says with a shrug. “I might as well come to Montana a couple of weeks early. We will get a head start.”
“What about Benji? Are you telling me your husband won’t have an issue with you living across the country?”
“He’ll come with me for a chunk of the time. This is the best offer you’re going to get, malishka. Take it or leave it.”
“I’d take it,” I murmur before kissing her temple.
“I’m not pleased that those I love are being inconvenienced,” she admits with a huff. So adorable. “But I love you all so much, and it’s grateful I am that I have you. I’ll live at the farm, and Mik can join me at the studio. We might very well kill each other in the first week.”
“You love being with me all day, every day,” Mik says with a satisfied grin. “You can’t wait.”
Maeve, who’s been listening and fighting her own tears, crosses the room and takes her daughter into her arms.
“My darlin’ babe.”
I pull away and gesture for Connor to follow me out of the room. When the door’s closed, I turn to him and finally let my anger show.
“I want some fucking answers.”
“Aye, so do I. Just what exactly is happening between you and my sister?”
“I’m in love with her. As soon as she’ll let me, I’m going to marry her. And right now, I want to know why the fuck you’ve known about this for three goddamn years, and that son of a bitch is still breathing?”
Connor’s nostrils flare, but before he can reply, the elevator dings, and Miller strides off, his face a stony mask.
“Report,” Connor says as Miller approaches.
“We have him on the security footage,” Miller says. “He had an invitation when he came to the door. Under what name, we don’t know yet. He mingled all night, staying close to the edges of the room, and I can see that he was watching Skyla.”
I push my hands through my hair. I’ve never been a violent man, but I want to punch a hole through the goddamn wall.
“We have him approaching her, and it all happens the way she said. Then he leaves.”
“Where the fuck did he go?” I ask.
“First, he went into the restroom, and then he returned to the party, looked for Skyla, and when he didn’t find her, he walked away.”
“Out the front door,” I mutter, shaking my head. “But he’s not anonymous. You know who he is. So follow him to New York and take care of him.”
Connor lifts a brow. “You want me to commit murder?”
“Of course not. Talk to him. Threaten him.”
“Do you think I haven’t tried that?” Connor demands. “Regardless of what my sister asked, of course I did that. I spoke with the cops. I hired a private investigator to follow him. He still follows him, but somehow, the son of a bitch lost my tail on his way here. He’s slippery, and he’s connected.”
“To who?”
“Politicians. The chief of police of New York City. Enough people that they look the other way.”
“Until he kills her.”
Both of the men before me tighten their jaws.
“You know I’m right. They all look away while he terrorizes a woman and potentially hurts her. Because what is his endgame in all of this?”
“He’s convinced that Skyla belongs to him.”
“Yeah, well, he’s dead fucking wrong.” I shake my head. “If you can’t figure this out, I have other contacts who can. You’re not the only billionaire I know or who I have ties to.”
“Are you fucking threatening me?”
“Not at all. I actually like you, so I’m telling the truth. Figure out a way to hit this asshole where it hurts. Make him lose all of his money. His home. Report something interesting to the IRS. What does he do for a living? Fuck that up, too.”
“I like him,” Miller says to Connor, then clears his throat when Connor glares at him. “Sir.”
“There are ways to destroy a man without killing him. But rest assured, he’s going to wish he were dead when we get through with him.”
Connor blows out a breath. “It’s been almost a year. Why is he back now?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s back. And now he’s done.”