“I know you’re remarkably skilled at getting people to spill their guts,” I say. “Sometimes, literally.”
“Aye, it can be quite a mess,” he agrees.
“I dinnae think she knows anything about the Frostbite files. Has Xenia had any luck so far?”
“No,” he says sourly. “And I’ve seen that womandisable the encryption codes for six military satellites in orbit in less than an hour. You’re sure Scarlett couldn’t help us with the files?”
I take a big swallow of Macallan, giving myself a moment. “I think she was there in the office building, searching for dirt on her Wicked Steps.”
“There was a lot of speculation about the car crash that took her da,” he says. “They might be holding something over her head. She comes into a rather large inheritance when she turns twenty-three, it makes sense that they’d want to keep her pinned down. I think there’s more to it, though.”
“Ye look concerned,” I say, frowning.
“We just discovered that Kyle’s making an alliance with the Kholodov Bratva,” he says heavily, rubbing his eyes. “The fecking eejit dinnae realize that the Russians will crush him and take anything of value from the Banner Syndicate.”
“Does that include Scarlett?” The flame’s growing brighter inside me, looking for more fuel, trying to take me over.
“Ye know how the Bratvas are with arranged marriages. Kyle signed an agreement to marry her off to the Pakhan. It’s good ye brought her here. She needs protection. And…” he admits, “this holds off any alliance between Banner and Kholodov, it gives us time to strengthen our base in Boston.”
“Ye are the most cunning of Chieftains,” I compliment, even though that blaze twisting around my spine is urging me to punch him in the mouth for thinking that Scarlett’s only value is strategic.
Hold back. This isn’t the time.
“You’re fine with taking care of her?” He’s being polite, Uncle Cormac, but I know he sees past my bland expression.
“I saved her life,” I say tonelessly. “It is now mine to protect forever.”
There’s silence for a moment. I wish there was the crackling of flames in the fireplace to fill it.
“I understand,” he finally says. “I do, Wallace. There are some things a MacTavish canna change about his fate; this seems to be one of them. Introduce her to the cousins, they’ll make her feel welcome.”
“Aye,” I stand, hoping this meeting is over.
“One last thing,” he says, rising from his chair. “Are ye going to tell her about Kholodov?”
I remember the terror on her face when I burst into that burning office. I never want to see it again. She’s been through enough. “She dinnae need to know as long as she’s under myprotection.”
“Very well.” Uncle Cormac puts his hand on my shoulder, “Go look after your lass.”
My lass.Mine. My Scarlett. I like the sound of that.
I know exactly what I need to do.
Stonner - Scottish slang for an erection
Chapter Twelve
In which there are revelations and a lot of crying.
Scarlett…
The car ride is silent on the way back to Wallace’s house. His face is expressionless, but I think he’s processing something.
Murder Mittens is waiting by the door, looking deeply displeased. “Poor girl, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” I croon, picking her up and holding her like a baby as she wraps her tail around my arm. She agrees with a pitiful and deeply manipulative meow.
Wallace’s helpful cousin Sloan even remembered to drop off cat food, toys, and a litter box along with my clothes last night. Murder Mittens put up her little nose at the kibble, maybe Scottish cat food tastes different, though it looks and smells the same to me. Nonetheless, I’d slipped bites of lamb to her at lunch as she sat on my lap and Wallace had pretended not to notice.
I know Murder Mittens has won him over - at least a bit - when he pulls some chicken out of the fridge and chops it into tiny pieces.
