Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cairstina
My heart aches so badly I feel as if I could welcome a swift and merciful death.
I never knew such poignant, vivid pain, but I’m in the throes of it now like never before.
I want so badly to be with him, to be his girl.
To believe all the beautiful things that he says to me.
I know what I brought to this family. I know who I am.
And I know now that I'm better off alone.
The first leg of the journey home is quiet, as he's driving, all broody and silent, and I have nothing else to say. I still can't believe that I actually spoke aloud. I don't know how I did it, except when I saw the other man coming at Leith and needed to warn him.
He looks angry again, just like he did when I first met him.
I watched him hurt my brother today. And my brother may be dead. I don't know what kind of a person I am to wish this, but I hope he is. I don't want to ever worry about my brother coming after me again.
I don't belong here anymore. I never did. I only wish I knew where I did belong. On instinct, I reach my hand to Leith’s leg, and give his thigh a squeeze.
I want him to know that I'm here with him.
I want him to know that even though I don't belong here anymore, I will always love him. Bailey’s on the other side of me.
He places his head in my lap. I close my eyes, and give myself away to my imagination once more.
I pretend Leith is special to me, maybe even my husband. I have him to my left and Bailey to my right, so I'm surrounded in a safe little bubble of love. A little cocoon of safety. I want this so badly there's a lump in my throat. I swallow it, and it doesn't go away.
Finally, he speaks. “Cairstina.” He only says my name, nothing more. I look at him curiously, wondering what he'll do next. I guess he just said my name? He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, the road in front of us clear so he can take a moment to give me a stern look. “Say my name again.”
I open my mouth so I can do what he says, so I can say his name.
I liked the feel of it on my lips. But the words don't come. They never do. I put my hand on my throat, grasping it, willing it to work. I’ve researched mutism and trauma heavily.
Mine was caused by brain damage. It was a fluke that I spoke at all.
“Perhaps this is in your head, lass.” His voice is gentle, but I don't know how to respond at first. I shake my head at him. It’s more than that.
“You said it once,” he says. “I know you can do it again." His voice is tremulous. And I don't know how to respond at first. I open my mouth again, but I can't speak.
"I know how to make you speak the truth," he said, solid determination making his jaw firm. He pulls to the side of the road, and for a moment I wonder if he's going to punish me again, or overpower me, somehow intimidate me into doing what he wants me to. He looks furious. Determined. I’ve seen him do violent, wicked things, and yet… I’m not really afraid.
He holds my gaze. “I love you.”
He doesn't say anything else. I stare at him, completely shocked at what he just said. He loves me? He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. "You've been through a lot, and I know this," he says. "But I also know that you are the bravest person I've ever met in my life. The bravest.”
He gives my hand another squeeze. "If you love me, you'll tell me this, too." I pull my hand out of his, and reach for my phone, because I need to tell him I love him too. But he takes my phone and throws it on the dash, so I can't reach it. I look at him, agape, and he only shakes his head.
"Say. It."
I open my mouth, and imagine the words coming out.
I will myself to do it, for the words to tumble out of my lips like they're meant to.
To tell this beautiful, strong, brave man that I love him, that I belong to him, and that I'll never leave him again.
That I never should've left him to begin with.
There're so many things to say that I feel almost paralyzed.
I shake my head and stare at him. I open my mouth.
And then he's in my space, crawling up right next to me.
He's yanking me over to him, his hand cradling the back of my neck.
His lips, insistent, tender, so soft I almost moan, but nothing but silence comes out, as always.
There's forgiveness in that kiss, and a desire so strong I feel it in my very soul.
When he pulls away, his voice is tortured. He whispers in my ear, “Now say it."
Nothing comes out of my mouth again. I can't speak. I haven't been able to speak for ages, what makes you think I can do it now?
He shakes his head, and turns away from me, facing the road again. He starts the engine.
“I thought it was only in my head, thinking that you loved me back."
Oh, God. Does he think I'm hesitating because I don't want to say it? Doesn't he know that I love him?
But if I loved him, why would I leave him? I can't. I bloody fucking shouldn't. I reach for his hand, and yank him back over to me. I stare at him and open my mouth. Nothing comes out at first, but I give my heart a harsh talking to.
You’ve done it before. You can do it fucking again.
This time I open my mouth. I stare at him, wanting to tell him so many things, it suddenly feels as if I can’t hold it back anymore.
“I…” the first word tumbles from my lips. My voice sounds hoarse with disuse, as if I've taken it out of an old trunk in the attic, and I have to dust it off and make it new again. But just hearing that one little word inspires me for more, so much more.
I'm determined not to let my expectations diminish my results. I'm determined to tell him how very much he actually means to me.
I draw in a cleansing breath, imagining it gives me the energy and ability to do what I need to, to say what I need to.
Sometimes you need to just do, and not think. Sometimes you need to trust the process, and not focus on the steps. Sometimes you need to simply live.
My lips part. Like a toddler taking her first step, I stumble, but continue forward determinedly, not allowing my faltering to keep me from doing what I want to. What I need to.
“I… love… you.”
And then I laugh.
I laugh.
The first laugh I’ve laughed out loud in over a decade, and God, but it feels so good, tears prick my eyes.
“You did it, lass,” he says, pulling me to him for a hug so tight it almost hurts. I can’t breathe, trapped in his arms as he cradles me to him. “You did it.”
I blink.
I did it. I really, truly did it.
When I see tears shining in Leith’s eyes, my own follow without a second thought.
“I did it,” I whisper, this time the words coming easier than the first.
“You did,” he says back, holding me to him as he strokes his fingers through my hair. “And hell, if that isn't the most beautiful voice I've ever heard. I love you so much, doll. So bloody much. And there’s no fucking way I’m going to let you leave, do you understand me?"
I speak haltingly. It takes so much effort to make my voice work that I’m out of breath. “I… don’t want to cause harm.”
His eyes narrow, and he gives me one of those teasing grins that makes my belly flip. “I’ll cause harm across your pretty little arse if you say that again.”
I don’t know how or why he turns me on with that caveman growl, but my whole body tingles. I turn to him, framing his face in my hands. The prickle of the scruff on his chin tickles my hands and makes my heart beat faster. Everything about him is rough and stern… except when he’s with me. With me.
Leith is mine as much as I’m his, and somehow, against all odds, we’ve brought out the best in each other.
I know this now. Before I met him, I hid in fear of being hurt.
I was friendless and lonely, my only solace my imagination and loyal Bailey.
I didn’t know I needed him. I was wounded, scared to become vulnerable. To be hurt and more.
And though he lived such a very different life than I did, his true self was hidden as well.
Damaged by the death of his brother, forced into a position he didn’t want, he wasn’t ready for.
He grew hardened to the world, to the power of love, and now…
I kiss him, my lips meeting his in a silent vow, the world melting away as he wraps his hands around my waist and holds me to him.
I sigh into his mouth and he breathes me in, before we pull away. I rest my head on his chest.
“Let’s go home, Cairstina. It’s time for us to go home.”
We drive home, my two hands in his as he drives the winding, icy road back to the Highlands.
There are so many things on my mind, and no doubt as many on his.
Are his sisters safe? Will his father recover from his fall?
Is Dougal gone forever, and is Father MacGowen safe?
And what will the goddamn Aitkens pull next?
But as snow falls gently around us, the inside cab is warm and cozy.
Whatever happens, we’ll handle it. Not me. Not him. But all of us, together.
And for the first time in so long, I actually allow myself to imagine a different reality, deeply entwined with the one that we have.
A reality in which his sisters become mine, his mum mine as well.
Where I have a place in the family, a family that cares for me, a home that I’m happy to return to.
That for once in my life, my handicaps don’t hinder me, but are simply a part of who I am. Welcomed. Loved.
Night’s fallen over the lodge when we return.
My stomach growls in hunger, and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast. It seems so long ago now, a different lifetime even.
The house looms ahead of us, golden light filtering from the windows onto the snowy ground around us.
Smoke rises into the evening sky, shimmering against the moon, and I note Lachlan’s back with the others.