He stares into my eyes and I watch the floodgates open in his, but he sucks in a large, deep breath and nods.
I kiss his forehead, whispering, “Good boy.”
He beams. It’s nae anywhere close to the wattage I’d received before Samuel snatched him, but it’s enough for today, given our situation.
Doc pulls some sort of stool from the pack on his back and sits Tavish on the floor between his thighs. The seating arrangement makes the hair on the back o’ my neck stand on end as the ugly green beast rears his head.
“Have ye ever burped a baby?” Doc asks, his eyes glued to Tavish’s head, as he looks over the wound on the boy’s head.
It takes a bit to realize he’s talking to me. When I do, he walks me through the process while he continues looking over Tavish’s wounds.
“Okay,” he says, “all things considered, the only thing I can see without a more thorough exam is the head lac needs closed. Do you know when it happened?”
A blank stare covers Tavish’s face, and he dinnae seem to have heard the man, so I answer for him. “Nae long. It happenedwhen his head smacked the stairs. He pulled Tavish down them by his ankle.”
Doc hums before saying, “Then I don’t have a problem glueing that back together. If Tavish is okay with that?”
Tavish disnae respond. It disnae seem like he even heard the man. I step forward, putting a hand on Tavish’s shoulder. That was a mistake. The dissociative state he was in kept him from kenning who it was that touched him, and he lashed out.
“Noooo!” he screams as he punches and kicks at first me, then Ghost and Doc, who step in to help me with Tavish and the bairn.
Ghost wraps Tavish up in his thick arms. They circle the boy’s arms, pinning them to his side, as he holds Tavish up in the air.
Doc attempts to talk to the boy, but he kicks out at him, catching Doc in the chin with his heel. The man’s chin splits open, gushing blood down his front. I pull him away from Tavish before the lad can land another blow.
“Here, take the bairn,” I say, passing the wee one off to Doc.
The man does as I ask, handling him with care while pulling gauze from the kit in front o’ him to press to his chin.
“Lilla du, yer going to hurt yerself,” I say as I approach, but he disnae hear me.
He continues to thrash in Ghost’s hold and I say, “Let him go.”
Ghost looks at me as if I’m insane, saying, “It’s your funeral.” He lowers Tavish until the boy’s feet are on the ground before loosening his arms and letting Tavish go.
The minute Tavish is free, he bolts, running toward the bow o’ the boat, stopping when he realizes he’s pinned in. I catch up with him easily. My heart breaks when I glimpse the boy’s eyes. The wild, frantic look in them and the way they dart around remind me he’s been traumatized, so I approach slowly. Nae,liking my options, I grab him by the throat, pinning him to the wall. His hands come up to the one holding him in place, scratching and digging at my skin, leaving claw marks behind.
Ignoring the bite of pain and the burning as my skin rips, I lean into him, pushing his head to the side with my own, and whisper in his ear, “It’s me, pojke. It’s Draven. Daddy’s here now.”
I pull away to watch his face and, to my relief, realization blooms in his gorgeous eyes and he crumbles into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He’s trying to talk to me, to tell me something, but I havenae a clue what he’s saying to me.
I carry him back to where Ghost and Doc are, barely noticing Maeve’s and Samuel’s bodies arenae there anymore. I sit on the stool, and Doc hands the bairn to Ghost, who looks even more uncomfortable than I felt when Doc handed the wee thing to me.
“Tavish, Doc is going to close the cut on yer head. Okay, lilla du? Just hold still. Daddy has ye.”
The boy flinches when Doc touches him, but settles when I make shushing sounds in his ear. His hands sneak up around my neck, squeezing it tightly. I’m sure Doc is having a time o’ it, but he says nothing.
After a minute or two, Doc steps away and says, “All done.”
“Daddy, can we get out of here? I wanna go home.”
I glance at the guys and they both nod.
“Absolutely, min kara.”
CHAPTER FORTY
TAVISH
