Clatty - Scottish slang for revolting or disgusting
Doolally - Scottish slang for deranged
Chapter Thirty-Four
In which we find that sometimes, perhaps forgiveness is possible.
Isla…
It’s only five minutes later when I hear voices outside the door.
Shite!I think.Not enough time! Not yet!
The monitor is flashing as Ian’s tracker virus is sifting through the files, looking for theMuñoz transactions. That can take a while, and then downloading even more. Scrabbling through the pen drawer, I find a flash drive and shove it into my pocket and darken the computer screen.
They’re unlocking the door, get out get out get out…
Looking around wildly, I see the heavy draperies for the French doors extend out into the room a bit. It’s my best hiding place, which is only slightly better than terrible.
I can’t see a thing, but Gideon’s voice is familiar, and the other one with a slight accent must be Muñoz.
“You moved too fast, taking the MacTavish girl,” Muñoz chides him.
“She’s not a MacTavish,” Gideon snaps, “she’s a Blackwood, and she’s mine.” There’s a clink of glasses and he toasts, “To my union and our partnership!”
There’s a slight grunt of amusement from Muñoz, but he drinks.
Gideon must be trying to get the upper hand, because he says, “What happened last night? You promised the MacTavish’s would no longer be a problem.”
“A minor setback,” Muñoz lies smoothly. “Now, show me the results from the deposit last week and we’ll move on with the plan.”
Shite. He canna’ go to the computer!I twitch the curtain slightly, wincing.
Muñoz, at least, is alert. He rips the curtain back.“Maldita sea,goddamnit!I knew you couldn’t manage this without fucking up!” He yanks me into the room, and I’m relieved that Gideon is still sitting on the sofa, looking shocked.
“Isla,” he growls, “what are you doing down here?”
“Looking for a way out.” I would almost feel bad for him, seeing his stricken expression. Then I remember he drugged and kidnapped me and that also,Muñoz is prowling around the desk like the freakish little ghoul he is.
“Search her,” he orders. Gideon scowls at him for ordering him around like a servant, but he hurries over. “Tell me you didn’t do anything, darling.”
I let him search me, more thoroughly than necessary, the creeper, and he triumphantly holds up the flash drive. “You thought you could steal from me?” Gideon says, wounded.
“You need to let me go!” I pleaded, “Trust me, you don’t need the Blackwoods and the MacTavish’s after you. Dealing with this lunatic is bad enough.”
Oh, good. I’ve enraged Muñoz enough to leave the desk and he strides toward me, hand lifted. “What did you call me,puta?”
I turn to Gideon, who’s looking between the two of us like he’s at a particularly strenuous tennis match. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”
“Isla, stop making things worse!” he says, stepping between me and the enraged Muñoz.
In the back of my mind, there’s a clock ticking. Ian needs every possible second.
“He’s calling me a- a-” I sniffle prettily, “a whore! How can you let him talk to me like that?”
Muñoz starts moving toward me again, his face is twisted into an ugly mask of rage and this time, Gideon steps away.
“You need to learn your place,puta,”Muñoz says, grabbing my throat and squeezing it hard. I can hear Gideon yelling at him, but there’s a roaring in my ears and my knee comes up hard, right in this bastard’s - most likely - micropenis. My forearms break his grip on my neck and I yank his head down as my knee comes up again, smashing in his nose and knocking him back. His head hits the back of a chair and he’s out before he hits the floor like a bag of dirt.
