I chuckle. “They’re going to need a new job after this, because he slipped his detail two days ago. I’m sure they’re frantically trying to find him. I’m willing to vet them for you, but since you know Cato, I doubt you need my help.”
“Since ya’ll’ve been outta touch for a while, I tapped into your mics. Little Bird and the Viking are right. This baby’s gotta blow. As for the detail, I can and will vet the guys. We need more personal protection guys at Holt. As for our friends who need to disappear, we won’t miss one corrupt politician in Washington when there’re at least ten others waiting to take his place. Same with the pretty Hollywood boys.”
Ghost and the other dude shake their heads as I chuckle at the looks on their faces. Draven’s hands come to rest on my shoulders, and he leans down, whispering in my ear, “He’s a fucking menace.”
I agree with a hum in my throat and remember that there’s a baby we need to find.
“I’d really love to get off this fucking ship, but there’s something we need to do first.”
“Yeah, like figure out who the fuck the baby we found belongs to.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
DRAVEN
Baby?
What the hell… oh, shit.
It takes my mind a wee bit to catch up with what they’re talking about. Maeve’s bairn. Dillion.
“He belongs to her,” I say, pointing at my sister.
“Sludge, get everyone who is staying on the boat into a stateroom and lock them in. Post someone at the door so we don’t have any squirters. And send Doc come down here to help me with Draven’s sister and Tavish.”
Sludge?
The guy mutters under his breath and walks off, calling over the mic for someone named Doc. I assume they’re nicknames, because they’ve been very cautious about divulging any information about themselves, but it’s the first time I’ve heard Ghost mention anyone by any kind o’ name.
Sludge disappears up the stairs and Tavish turns back to me, burying his face in my vest. He makes an aggravated sound in the back o’ his throat. I pull open the straps on the vest. As soon as I pull it over my head, he’s buried in my chest, arms around my waist.
I want to relish the feel o’ him against me and relief he’s alive, but every time I do, I catch sight o’ my poor sister, laying in a pool o’ her own blood, her sightless eyes staring off toward the stairs. It’s a morbid sight. One I ken I’ll never unsee.
Footsteps sound on the metal stairs, and I move to push Tavish behind me, but the boots and tactical pants on the person’s legs relax me. As he slowly descends the steps, a bairn comes into view in the person’s arms just before we get a glimpse of the person’s face. It’s someone I recognize from the boat ride from the castle out to the ship.
“Hey, boss, Sludge said you needed me. My hands are a little full at the moment. What do you need?”
As Doc walks closer, I can see the swath of blond hair on the bairn’s wee head. He cannae be very old. Doc is holding a bottle for the wee one, and the bairn’s tiny hands are gripping it.
Tavish turns at the sound o’ the guy’s voice and he gasps, “He’s so little.”
Doc replies, “I’d put him in the ballpark of eight months, maybe a little more or a little less.”
Jesus fucking Christ!
I watch the guy stare down at the bairn with a small smile on his face, and I’m at a loss. I dinnae have a clue how or what I’m gonna do with the wee one. Being gay and active in the lifestyle both Simon and I enjoyed, a bairn and parenthood hadnae been on the radar for either o’ us. I had hoped to find Maeve and let her offspring be my heirs.
Tears roll down my face as Ghost’s movements draw my attention back to my sister. She’s on one side o’ the room, and the bairn is on the other, with Tavish and me standing between them. I ken this wee lad will change my life forever, just as the boy in front o’ me has.
I drop a kiss on Tavish’s head, then ask, “May I?” as I reach for the bairn. Doc hands him over, helping me settle the lad inthe crook o’ my arm. Tavish looks at him from where he stands at my elbow.
“He’s cute,” Tavish whispers.
There’s something on his face I can’t place. I ask iffn he’s okay, but Ghost interrupts my train o’ thought, saying, “Doc, check the boy out. He’s got a gash on his head and there’re more bruises, cuts and scratches under that shirt that could do with a looksee.”
Tavish shrinks back behind my shoulder subtly. The tiny step behind me gives away his fear and insecurities. I squat down so we’re eye to eye.
“Let him check ye over, min kara. Daddy needs to ken yer okay. I’ll be right here.”
