“Aye. Ye can come out. I will not blast ye,” Latharn grumbled. “Perhaps I can bear this hell a few more days.”
Crawling out from under the furniture, Trish dusted off her knees. “By the way, I haven’t seen Nessa this morning. But I noticed the jeep is gone. Did she say where she was going? It’s Sunday. I figured we’d just laze around here today.”
Fiona straightened her skirts as she crawled out from under the table, retying the strings of her apron. “She didna say. She was just out the door with a smile and a wave. But come to think of it, she was dressed as though she was going someplace nice.”
Brodie nodded in agreement as he dusted off his trousers. “Perhaps she was going to church?”
Trish shook her head as she closed the journal and pushed her chair under the table. “I doubt that. Nessa views religion as a cultural enigma. I really don’t think she follows any specific faith herself.”
“Someone needs to find where she went. I’m trusting ye all to take care of my Nessa.” Latharn bounced warning lights around the room. They needn’t stand around gaggling like a bunch of geese.
Trish paused, tapping her fingers on the back of the chair, ignoring Latharn’s display as she mused aloud. “Gabriel seemed unusually disappointed yesterday and very determined to meet with Nessa sometime soon. It’s strange. I’m not saying he shouldn’t be interested in her but he’s just a hair shy of being completely obsessed.”
Brodie straightened the chairs around the table. “It would be unwise for the fool to try to get too close to Nessa. Latharn may not be able to speak to his love but there’s not a power on earth that will keep him from protecting her.”
“I will kill the bastard if he so much as stirs the air in which my Nessa breathes,” Latharn stated.
With a look on her face that said she was clearly fed up, Trish squared off between Fiona and Brodie. “Okay. Out with it. What’s the story on Gabriel Burns? I have the distinct impression here that there’s something I need to know. If he’s a serial killer, I think I have the right to know. After all, Latharn has officially inducted me into the MacKay Mystery Club.”
Latharn couldn’t resist a chuckle at Trish’s comment but he dreaded hearing the story that was about to ensue. If he hadn’t been trapped in this accursed globe, he would’ve rendered justice himself.
Fiona bit at her lower lip and rubbed at an invisible spot on the table. “Before I became Brodie’s wife, Gabriel and I were engaged to be married.” With a trembling voice, Fiona swallowed hard before she continued, “Gabriel seems kind and wonderful at first until he’s positive that he has ye in his snare. Then he becomes quite controlling…even cruel, some might say.”
Latharn itched to clench his hands around Gabriel’s throat as Fiona’s hands trembled at her side.
“Are you saying he’s physically abusive?” Trish leaned closer, her hands tightening around the back of the chair.
Latharn’s heart went out to Fiona. That was another reason he’d chosen her for Brodie. The lass had suffered so.
That was also why the bastard deserved to die. Latharn still didn’t understand this twenty-first-century justice.
Fiona nodded. “I think, given enough time, he might even become truly dangerous. Thankfully, Brodie came along before I found out just how much damage he was willing to do.” She wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and buried her face in his chest.
As he clutched Fiona to him, Brodie sneered, “She’s saying that the night I found him in the alley, he had his hands around her throat. I almost beat the bastard to death until she begged me to stop. To keep him from pressing charges against me, Fiona promised not to tell anyone of his abusing her over something as minor as running thirty minutes late. His pub wouldna do too well in Durness if people found out he enjoyed beating women.”
“Thirty minutes late?” Trish repeated, “Just being thirty minutes late was enough to throw him into a rage where he thought it was okay to strangle you?”
Fiona sniffed and pulled a tissue from her sleeve to dab at the corner of her eyes. “Aye, my car had a flat tire. I was thirty minutes late to our wedding rehearsal. He felt as though I had shamed him in front of all our friends. Gabriel Burns is verra concerned about the perceptions of others. He not only demands to be respected, but he also prefers to be revered.”
Trish stormed about the room. “The man seems so nice. Everyone seems to like him. He can’t go around abusing women! Why in the hell isn’t he in jail? Latharn, did you know about this?”
Latharn remained silent. His fury raged too strong right now. The energy blast would destroy the entire building.
He would have killed the bastard a long time ago if they had consulted him. He missed the days when the laird settled such things.
Justice had gone to hell.
Brodie pulled his wife back against his side and dropped a tender kiss to the top of her head. “The man is careful, and that was over six years ago. He pretty much keeps to himself. Cordelia says he’s been seeing a professional counselor. Perhaps he’s been able to change.”
Trish whirled and shook her hand in his face as she yanked up her shirt to reveal a jagged scar running up her side. “Bullshit! Men like that never change. The only cure for their disease is a slow and painful death.”
Both Brodie and Fiona averted their gaze. Latharn bathed the room with a calming glow. He would cleanse the room of Gabriel’s poison. “I will keep my Nessa safe. I have surrounded her with protection spells. But I would still like for ye to watch over her as well.”
A knowing grin spread across her face as Trish smoothed her shirt back down over her scarred body. “No one had better make the mistake of underestimating Nessa. She might be small but she packs a punch.”
Brodie put his hands on his hips as Fiona eased out of his hug to clear the table. He tucked his chin to his chest in disbelief. “That wee lass?”
With a nod, Trish handed Fiona the extra dishes and napkins from her side of the table. “That ‘wee lass’ has been practicing kick-boxing for years and is single-handedly responsible for saving my life.” A faraway look crossed Trish’s face. “I won’t bore you with the gory details. But let’s just say our little Nessa can take care of herself.”
