Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
Gretchen
I never dreamed I'd get kidnapped and taken to an evil bastard's creepy manor.
But here I am, seated on a small couch in the sitting room of Dougal MacWraith's home with my hands and ankles bound.
Fortunately, the restraints aren't too tight.
But I would never share that information with Dougal.
The lord of the manor told me outright that he plans to kill Kirk, and that he intends to make me his girlfriend whether I like it or not.
Ohhh, I wish I could knee him in the balls. Wish it so badly.
Scratch that. I don't want to knee him in the balls. I'd rather grab them with both hands and yank hard enough to make him scream in agony and pass out.
My fantasy is interrupted when Dougal ambles into the room while whistling---and swaggering, of course.
He comes around to my side of the sofa and plops his ass down on the coffee table.
And he still seems obnoxiously cheerful.
Aren't evil masterminds supposed to snarl and issue evil, gruesome threats? He must be trying to psych me out.
No such luck, you rotten reptile.
Dougal glances around the sitting room and sighs contentedly. "Isn't Cairntorran Manor magnificent? I killed the previous owner since he refused to sell the manor to me. Did ye know the name means Cairn of Thunder? Fitting, dinnae ye agree?"
"If you mean do I that agree you're a loony tunes piece of shit...yeah, I do agree."
He chuckles. "You are wonderful, lass. Cannae wait to fuck ye."
"Kiss your pipe dream goodbye, because Kirk is coming for me." I slant forward. "Mark my words, Dougal, he'll murder you for what you've done."
Dougal bursts into a fit of uproarious laughter. "That's exactly what yer boyfriend will do." Dougal wipes tears of mirth from his eyes. "He will walk into this room, the conquering hero, ready to save his damsel---then I'll put a bullet between his eyes."
I force myself to maintain eye contact because I won't give this psycho the satisfaction of watching me cower.
"You've underestimated Kirk before," I remind the bastard. "How'd that work out for you?"
Dougal's smile falters for a second, opening a tiny crack in his confident facade that gives me a glimmer of hope.
And possibly leverage.
"Operation Tartan Glory was a temporary setback." He leans closer, setting his hands on his thighs. I can smell his expensive cologne. "But now I've had time to prepare. Ahmno underestimating anyone this time."
He reaches out to trail a finger along my jawline.
I jerk my head away, which only makes him laugh. "Don't touch me, you filthy pig."
"Yer a feisty one. I like that." Dougal stands up, straightening his immaculate suit. "Yer Highland stuntman will be here soon. I've got quite the show planned for him."
My heart races as I scan the room for anything I might use as a weapon if I can manage to get my hands free. The manor's sitting room is opulent but sparsely furnished with heavy antique furniture and a few decorative items that look expensive but lie too far out of my reach.
"Once Kirk gets here," I tell Dougal, "you'll regret kidnapping me."
"Your threats arouse me, Gretchen. Maybe I'll fuck ye to death and leave the bloodied corpse on the couch for Balfour to see."
I'm about to issue my scathing response to Dougal when a deafening boom rocks the manor.
That must be Kirk.
The explosion seems to shake the very foundation of Cairntorran.
Dust drifts down from the ancient ceiling, and I hear shouts coming from elsewhere in the manor.
Dougal's expression transforms instantly.
The smug smile vanishes, replaced by cold fury as he whips out a sleek pistol from inside his jacket.
"What the bloody fucking hell?" he snarls, and all pretense of charm vanishes. He grabs my arm, yanking me to my feet despite my bound ankles. "Move, ye stupid bitch!"
I stumble forward and nearly fall face-first onto the expensive rug. Dougal's grip is bruising as he drags me toward the door. My heart pounds, and I feel a touch woozy---from relief, I think. Kirk is here, but is this part of his plan? Or has something gone terribly wrong?
"Your boyfriend's more audacious than I thought," Dougal mutters, pressing the barrel of his gun into my ribs.
He grips my bound wrists and hauls me onto my feet, then starts hustling toward the door of the sitting room, which remains closed.
"Dinnae fash. I have a secret exit your beloved knows nothing about. "
Bam! The sitting-room door flies open.
And Keltie Ralston surges into the room wearing full tactical gear and shouting orders at my captor. "Drop the weapon and step away from the lass!"
Dougal freezes for a split second before tightening his grip on me, digging the gun harder into my ribs. "Who the fuck are you?"
I've met Keltie Ralston once before, and Kirk mentioned she's ex-SAS, deadly as they come. Her presence here means Kirk did not come alone.
Damn, I love that man.
"Last warning," Keltie says, her voice steady. She has her weapon trained squarely on Dougal's head without even a hint of hesitation in her stance. "Release her now, MacWraith."
Dougal laughs in an almost maniacal manner. "Ye think ahm afraid of you? Do ye have any idea who I am?"
"Aye, MacWraith, everyone knows what a nasty cacan you are." Keltie takes a step closer, her gaze never wavering from Dougal. "A dead man walking, that's what ye are."
Dougal tenses up, and his eyes repeatedly shift left and right. He isn't used to being challenged, especially not by a woman. The cretin's grip on me becomes painful.
"Where is Balfour?" he demands, his voice losing some of its smug confidence. "This is between him and me."
Keltie aims her merciless stare at the bastard. "Oh, he's here, trust me. But you should be more concerned about me right now."
Another explosion rocks the manor, this one closer than the first. The chandelier above us sways precariously, and I hear shouts and gunfire from somewhere deeper in the building.
"Your men are a bit occupied," Keltie continues, taking another calculated step forward. "It's just us now, MacWraith. Do yourself a favor and surrender."
"To a woman? Never," he huffs.
I can tell the asshole is getting nervous thanks to the slight tremor in his hand on my arm.
He presses the gun harder against my ribs, making me wince. "This changes nothing. I still have the leverage."
Keltie doesn't even blink. "You've miscalculated, MacWraith. Ye think yer the predator here, but yer just prey who doesn't realize it yet."
Another explosion shakes the manor, sounding even closer this time. Dust and small bits of plaster rain down from the ceiling. Dougal jerks his head toward the sound, and in that split second of distraction, I make my move.
I slam my elbow backward into Dougal's gut as hard as I can.
Keltie seizes the chance to take him down, rushing forward with lightning speed.
The gun discharges with a deafening crack, but the bullet goes wide, embedding itself in the wall behind us as I throw myself to the floor.
I hit the ground hard, rolling away despite my bound ankles.
My shoulder slams into the leg of an antique table, but adrenaline numbs the pain.
Keltie and Dougal become a blur of violent motion.
She moves with chilling precision, each strike calculated and devastating.
Dougal is no slouch, though. He fights with the desperate fury of a cornered animal, but Keltie's training is evident in every movement.
I scramble to get upright, hampered by my restraints. "Keltie!"
Spotting a letter opener on a side table just a few feet away, I struggle to reach it, praying I can cut myself free.
With one brutal move, Keltie slams Dougal against the wall, twisting his arm behind his back until something cracks. His scream pierces the air as the gun clatters to the floor. Keltie kicks it away, then forces Dougal face-first onto the ground, driving her knee into his spine.
"I've got him," she says calmly, as if subduing psychotic crime lords is a normal Tuesday for her. "Are ye hurt, Gretchen?"
"A little bruised, that's all," I assure her, still inching toward that letter opener. "Where's Kirk?"
One final explosion rocks the manor, this one so close it makes my teeth rattle. The sound of gunfire intensifies.
"Clearing the way," Keltie warns me.
She efficiently zip-ties Dougal's wrists behind his back The man beneath her is cursing in Gaelic.
Blood runs from his nose and the corner of his mouth, but all I feel is savage satisfaction.
This is the man who threatened to kill Kirk and who planned to force himself on me.
I hope Keltie broke something important.
"Are ye okay to stay put while I secure him properly?" Keltie asks, her eyes darting to the letter opener I'm still trying to reach.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." I strain toward the table but my fingertips barely brush its edge.
Keltie reaches down with one hand, yanks the letter opener from the table, and tosses it within my reach, all while keeping Dougal firmly pinned with her other hand and knee. Keltie is a one-woman wrecking crew.
I snatch the opener and saw awkwardly at my zip ties with the plastic cutting into my wrists as I work.
Kirk bursts into the room, his face a mask of righteous fury. His chest heaves, and he must have run at full speed through the manor.
Now that he's here, I know I'll be safe.
And Dougal is going down hard.