Yes.
“Eat your dessert, Bella. And dinnae ye dare pretend it’s not your favorite.” He cups my cheek, kissing me with a surprising level of tenderness. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
I eat the sticky toffee pudding and dinnae taste a bit of it, staring out the windows in the great room at the other three houses in the square.
What aretheyall doing? Torturing people? Running drugs? Transporting guns? Just having dinner like normal human beings?
Who gets used to this life?
Chapter Nineteen
In which Logan and Uncle Lachlan spend some quality bonding time and Arabella is buried under a mountain of lingerie.
Logan…
Four hours later…
We’ve been working on the man my wife called Head Bastard in Charge, and he’s stubborn. Half his fingers gone. Most of his teeth and still nothing useful.
“Are ye thinking there’s gonna be a rescue? Ye truly think any of the scum ye worked with will risk themselves by coming to rescue your sorry arse?”
“Stykke lort…”It comes out a bit mushy, his face is a mosaic of red, blues and purples, but his eyes are alight with hate.
“What’s that? Ah, ye calling me a piece of shite, aye? I’m not offended. I can see why ye might not be feeling I’ve got your best interests at heart.” Looking over the table of instruments in the corner of the room, I select a power drill. He’s a tough bastard, but there’s a flare of terror in his eyes when I hold the drill up.
Hamish is yawning politely into his hand. He’d chained Head Bastard in Charge to the metal chair in the center of the concrete room when the Chieftain’s men brought him in tonight.
“I know what you’re probably thinking, mate. Do we really need the concrete walls, the hooks dangling from the ceiling and the drain under the floor? No, though it’s important to set the stage.” I press down on the drill’s button and the silver bit spins with a screech.
“I can always do the job with whatever tools are at hand,” I hit the button again. “Though there’s nothing like a DeWalt. Good, powerful engine. Ye can drill through anything, really. Shall we put it to the test?”
“He’s a stubborn one.” My Uncle Lachlan joined us during my session with the drill; he’s still in the suit he wore to take my Aunt Aria out to dinner. Taking off his jacket, he rolls up his sleeves. “Good tools, lad. The DeWalt is a solid contender, though I prefer my Makita. I use the diamond head drill bit. Ye can punch a hole through a steel wall with that one.”
Our guest’s eyes roll back and he passes out.
Uncle Lachlan scoffs. “Ye canna have a civil conversation without the wee bastard fainting on ye?” Eyeing my blood covered shirt, he adds, “I’d like to congratulate ye on your marriage. Your Da called to tell us the happy news. She sounds like quite the brave lass. Why don’t ye get cleaned up and go home to her? You’re newlyweds, after all. What did ye get from our guest here?”
“Not much,” I grumble, pulling off my shirt and heading for the big industrial sink. “He says there’s two other key players, and they’re gonna steam ahead like Anselm’s death dinnae even slow them down. I got something about ships and vacations just before ye showed up.”
“Ships and vacations?” Uncle Lachlan eyes the unconscious arsehole. “He could be hallucinating, but it seems a wee bit soon for that. Why don’t ye let me work on him a bit, see if I can jog his memory. I’ll call ye as soon as I get something.”
Once I’ve washed off all the blood, I pull on the t-shirt Hamish gives me and shake Uncle Lachlan’s hand. “Thank ye. Your work is legendary, Uncle. I’m looking forward to the results.”
“Off with ye.” He’s holding one of the scalpels up to the light. “Oh! I picked up an anti-tank rocket launcher, and she’s a beauty. We should take a trip up to the lodge and I’ll show her in action.”
“The FGM-148 Javelin? Just tell me when!” Uncle Lachlan does collect the best toys.
“There’s a good lad,” he says, putting down the scalpel and picking up some wire cutters. “Go spend some time with your bride.”
Arabella…
I pass by those damn lingerie bags four times.
Taking a shower.
Finding some lotion because air travel is apparently hell on dry skin.
Finishing off the rest of the sticky toffee pudding.
