Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Hamish
He stared at the phone after hanging up with Badger.
Something was…off. But he had no idea what.
Something more than him being ordered to London on a flight he was already ticketed on that would leave in four hours from St. Louis.
Shit.
His ticket had been purchased by the pack, and Badger gave him a passcode to exchange with the driver who’d collect him from the airport in London.
The last place he wanted to go was the UK, especially with Faegan still on the loose, but the acting Pack Alpha required this of him, and he’d shown his throat to the Targhees.
It was the least he could do considering his tainted family had caused all this mess in the first place.
Resigned but moving quickly, he took care of a few business calls, grabbed his passport from his safe, packed, and then headed out to the airport.
After parking in the long-term lot and getting checked in, he discovered the pack had sprung for a first-class ticket, meaning he was able to enjoy the private airside lounge and other amenities.
Well, okay, then.
He still had nearly two hours until his flight and there were only a couple of other travelers in the lounge, so he opted for a stiff drink.
Not that it’d be stiff enough to get him drunk, but it was a start. He had a stopover in New York but wouldn’t change planes, fortunately.
If this is to be my last flight, at least it’s a posh one.
A bunch of alcohol and the better part of half a day later, he made his way out of Customs at Heathrow and into the main terminal close to midnight local time.
At first he didn’t see the driver. Then he spotted a man holding a sign off to the far side, with the adopted name that matched his ticket and passport, and Hamish had to fight the feeling of his hackles going up because, even at that distance, he sensed the man was a wolf.
Hamish walked up to him. “Any tall tales for me?”
He was about Hamish’s height, and his lips curled in a faint smile. “Ready to go hunting?” he asked in an East London accent as he took Hamish’s suitcase from him.
“Not really,” Hamish said, falling into step with him. “But a bloody lot of good it’d do me to complain now, wouldn’t it?”
“Probably not, sir. I’m Lancaster, by the way. I’m one of Trevor Clarke’s Enforcers.”
At least he wasn’t a Prime, as far as Hamish could sense. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Follow me, sir.”
In the car, a burner phone lay waiting for him on the backseat. The driver glanced in the rearview mirror. “Last number dialed, sir. They’re expecting your call. And that phone is yours to use while you’re here. Untraceable.”
Well, they likely weren’t going to kill him if they were setting this up for him.
Right?
“Thanks.” As the driver pulled out of the airport and whisked him through the night to his unknown destination, Hamish called the number. “I’m Hamish Faegan and was told to call,” he said when a man answered.
“Yes. This is Trevor Clarke, Pack Alpha of the Staffordshire Pack. Apologies for the cloak and dagger business, but I’m told you understand why.”
Hamish slumped back in the seat, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I know. What I don’t know is why I’m here. I haven’t set foot in this bloody country since I left. I don’t know what help I can provide here that I can’t from the US.”
“You’ll soon find out. You’re being driven to my house, and then I will tell you everything.”
“Will I at least get to see Tamsin and the baby one more time? Or am I being killed outright?”
Trevor hesitated, but when he spoke his voice sounded thick with emotion. “It’s doubtful any harm will come to you while you’re here. Not by me or mine, at least. And I hope both of us will get to embrace her and the baby soon enough.”
A shaky, relieved breath whooshed out of him. Trevor likely had no reason to lie about that. “All right, then,” he said, already recognizing he was trying to slip back into his old accent and struggling not to. “When do I arrive?”
“Less than an hour. Also, please don’t be nervous, but Lancaster has orders to make sure you’re not being followed, so he will likely take quite a long and winding route here.
And if you are hungry or need anything, I’ve instructed him to stop for you and purchase it for you at our expense. Anything you want.”
“That’s nice of you. I’d rather get there and get this over with.”
“We can have a meal ready upon your arrival, if you’d like.”
Hamish barked a laugh. “Not sure what kind of appetite I’ll have, but I’ll probably want to raid your liquor cabinet.”
Trevor chuckled. “Believe me, after recent events, I am well-stocked. See you soon.” He ended the call and left Hamish staring at the phone for a moment before he dropped it onto the seat.
Then he settled in, closed his eyes, and hoped he would be pleasantly surprised by whatever awaited him.
For once.
Hamish’s eyes snapped open when the car slowed to make a turn into a private, gated drive. The driver hit a button on a remote control and the gate swung open.
He hadn’t really slept during the drive and now sat up, staring over the front seats and through the windshield as the car’s headlights swept up the long and elegantly curved drive.
It was quite a large property, as much as he could see of it in the dark, and it took a moment to finally spot the house through the thickly wooded grounds.
A moment later, as they pulled into a parking area in front of the house, the front door opened.
He assumed the first man was Trevor, knew the second was Ken, didn’t recognize the third, and—
Hamish tore his seatbelt off and flew out the door with a happy cry to embrace Peyton. “You’re alive!”
The man grinned. “Yeah, thankfully. And yes, Gillian, Badger, Dewi, Duncan, and Trent all know.” His smile faded. “But they’re the only ones of ours in the States who can know, for now. Not even Tamsin can know yet.”
Hamish didn’t understand but knew Peyton must have a good reason, so he didn’t question it.
After a quick hug with Ken and being formally introduced to Trevor and Jake, and Trevor’s wife Elizabeth, Trevor waved them inside. “Lancaster and I will bring your things in. Let them catch you up.”
Ten minutes later, Hamish was seated at the table, his appetite restored as he tucked into the best shepherd’s pie he’d had in decades, a large glass of Aberfeldy at hand, and listened to Peyton, Ken, and Jake update him.
“Your son is a wonderful man,” Hamish told Jake. “I’ve seen how attentive he and Mateo are toward Tamsin and the baby. They’re both good men. Mateo’s sister, Brianna, is brilliant as well.”
“So Ken and Peyton have told me.” He had his own glass of Aberfeldy. “And I’m damned anxious to see him again and meet my new family.”
“I’m sure you understand some of my need for secrecy,” Peyton said to Hamish. “But here’s where we’re at…”
Hamish listened as he ate, struggling to stay in the present and not let sour memories take over and distract him. When Peyton finished updating him, Hamish sat back in his chair.
“So you want me to look around the house?” Hamish clarified.
“Yes. We’ll go tomorrow. Trevor has a chopper.”
“Yay,” Ken unenthusiastically snarked.
“I want to move quickly,” Peyton said. “Trevor’s men are at the house. He’s kept a presence there ever since this started.”
“Where’s Hyacinth?” Hamish asked. “Frankly, I want to give her a piece of my mind.”
“We have her in protective custody at an undisclosed location,” Peyton said. “We don’t want anyone knowing where she is, so Faegan can’t find her.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to use her as bait?” Hamish asked.
“That is a possible future contingency,” Peyton said. “But I don’t want to risk her safety. She’s been through too much already. Not to mention, we aren’t certain Faegan might not just kill her or have her killed.”
Hamish snorted. “Considering what’s happened, living safely’s too good for her, quite frankly.”
Trevor sipped a glass of wine. “I know,” he wearily said, “but I’ve personally spoken with her. I agree with Peyton. It’s…complicated. She had no part in this and did, in fact, lobby Faegan to settle and take the dowry. He severely beat her for that ‘disloyalty.’”
Hamish struggled to rein in his own emotions. “Well, she was already checked out when I knew her. An alcoholic.”
“I guess that’s something she overcame before Tamsin was born,” Trevor said. “Tamsin told us her mother has never touched alcohol, as far as she knows.”
“Perhaps you two can forgive her, but excuse me if I don’t hold the same charitable thoughts. Faegan isn’t a Prime. You can’t tell me that, throughout all these decades, at any time when he was asleep she couldn’t have gutted him like a fish and let him bleed out.”
“It’s complicated,” Elizabeth quietly said from where she sat next to Trevor.
“I can see both sides of this. I’m blessed I’ve never experienced any abuse, but I’ve seen it countless times in others.
That many decades beaten down by him? She was in survival mode.
I can feel pity for her while neither absolving nor forgiving her. ”
After more talking, Hamish finally bade his leave and retreated to the guest room the Clarkes had assigned him. There he stripped, took a long, hot shower, and tried not to think about Corrine.
One of the things he’d planned to do before returning to Florida was spend at least a week staying near her nursing home so he could visit with her every day before it was too late.
What if she really was my mate, and I was so fucked up because of my family that I ignored the signs?
That thought had plagued him since all the revelations.
It was also guilt he’d carried throughout the years, shoved down except during the turmoil with each failed relationship he’d attempted since that night with her.
But especially so now that he knew what had happened. Because had he claimed her as his mate, she wouldn’t be rotting in a nursing home with more of her mind slipping away by the day.
All her children would’ve been his, the ones he always secretly wanted but never had.
Not since she’d walked out of his life that night.
Because he wasn’t there for Imani’s birth, her first giggles, first words.
First steps.
First shift—which wouldn’t have been her only one had he been there to help raise her.
He didn’t “blame” Corrine—she had no idea. He blamed himself.
Imani might carry his DNA, and he already loved her as her father, but the time lost between them and her love for the man who raised her would never allow her to see him as her “father,” and he damned well knew it.
Fucking Faegan. Everything the man touched withered and died, a toxic weapon of mass destruction, leaving carnage in his wake.
Of all of them, Hamish hoped their little sister had enjoyed life after escaping Faegan’s clutches.
I hope Bryn and Callum found happiness.
If for no other reason than the mighty “fuck you” that would be to Faegan and his “legacy.”