As I approach the back door, I see Tavish through the doors, being carted off by Samuel. He’s dragging Tavish down from the patio into the gardens. Tavish is struggling in the man’s grasp, and it looks like they are both bloody. Tavish has smears of it on him. Samuel does too. I dinnae ken where it’s coming from, but the sight o’ it enrages me. The sheer force of my anger becomes a physical thing, making pain scream through my body.
Knocking open the French doors that lead to the garden, I plunge into the night. My already frantic, thundering heart pushes blood through my body and head so savagely as I chase after them, my head throbs. The blood rushes through my brain and skull like the “Drums of Drakkar”, setting up a beat that is both welcoming and painful.
It’s a foot race through the gardens toward the coast that surrounds the castle as I pursue Samuel and Tavish. I push myself through the flora and fauna in the most direct route I can, foregoing the landscaped paths. The hedges and bushes snag my clothes, tearing at them and my skin. The mild stings add fuel to the fire burning in my belly as I keep pushing through the panic that’s warring within me. I fight to keep my cool, battling the regret and guilt so I dinnae lose my head.
Tavish is fighting Samuel. He’s dragging his feet, pulling and pushing at the hold Samuel has on him. It’s slowing them down but nae enough. They’re still too fucking far in front o’ me. Pulling at every bit o’ strength I can find within me, I push harder, faster, refusing to admit defeat.
The landscaping slowly begins giving way to the lawn that sits between the garden and the rocky cliffs that set the house and grounds apart from the shoreline. The grassy area is slippery, but I push and push, faster and faster, racing toward Tavish and away from the panic that feels like a rabid pack o’ wolves bearing down on me, as determined to catch me as I am to catch Samuel before Tavish disappears from my life.
As the gardens give way to the rocky outcroppings and cliffs leading down to the sand, I realize I’m fighting a losing battle. I’m not gonna make it in time. There’s a boat waiting, and they are hundreds o’ steps ahead o’ me. Dread and déjà vu and fear combine within me as the hell I went through the last time I dashed through the house looking for someone I care for flashes in my mind.
Pushing the terror o’ those thoughts away, I keep going. My feet never stop moving. Even as I watch them toss him into the boat. Even as I listen to Tavish screaming for me. I never stop moving.
“DADDY!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TAVISH
Once we’reout of the enormous, plant-filled atrium, Samuel hurries us through the house to the back door. It’s like he knows exactly where he’s going and how to get there. How he knows, I don’t know. At the glass doors, Samuel pauses, throwing them open and dragging me down the steps into the gardens.
“Daddy!” I scream for Draven.
Where is he?
Did he really leave me?
Every step I take feels like a knife to the gut and heart. I scream my head off, yelling for Draven, begging for someone to help me. In the distance, I can see a boat coming toward the shore. There’s a couple of people in it. Dread and fear flood my system at the sight, if it’s even possible to be any more scared than I already am.
If Samuel gets me to that boat, my chance of escape is gone. And along with it, the likelihood I'll ever set foot in Scotland again, that I'll ever set eyes on Draven again, is next to zero. Less than.
“Draven! Mack!” I scream for them both this time.
We’ve been sending the staff home, but Mack, along with some others, live on the property. If Draven has left me to fend for myself, maybe they’ll help.
“Help! Someone, help! Mack!”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Samuel demands, jerking on my arm.
His order falls on deaf ears—I refuse to go meekly, quietly. I drag my feet every step of the way. Despite that, he gets me through the gardens and down the rocky outcroppings of the shore.
“Tavish!” Draven’s screams reach my ears from behind me, and I turn.
He didn’t leave!
Daddy’s racing down from the house after us, but he’s so far away. I catch another glance at the boat Samuel’s aiming for. It’s even closer, even though I’m fighting him every step of the way. I curse my diminutive stature. If I wasn’t such a fucking shrimp, maybe I could protect myself better, maybe I could escape.
Looking back at Draven, I accept the fact he won’t reach me in time. I let my eyes drift over him, absorbing every inch of his big, hulking frame. Samuel gives me another shake, yanking me toward the sand. I turn back toward Draven, tripping Samuel and me in the process. The boat is so close, and Draven is still so far away.
“Daddy!” I scream for Draven again, my voice hoarse with the force I put behind it.
“Help me get the little cockstain in the boat before he raises the dead,” Samuel yells to the two people with the boat.
The guy standing on the shore at the bow of the boat rushes toward us. He grabs my other arm in a firm grip. He’s not nearly as rough as Samuel, but between the two of them, they’re nearly carrying me. The tips of my shoes drag through the sand.
This is it. I’m done for. There’s no fucking way I’m getting away from them both.
My chin trembles and sobs bubble up. I turn my head back toward Draven. I have to have one last look at him.
