If I’m being honest, as much as I thought I missed this space and the Society, it has nothing on how I felt when we boarded the plane in Scotland. It is my homeland. My birthright, and the lush green countrysides and the craggy mountains, speak to my soul. They called to me. That’s my home.
Draven is my home.
My mind speaks to me as if we’re two separate entities and he’s right. Or maybe it’s right? I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. Either way, what was said speaks more truth than anyone has ever spoken.
Draven is my home. This place didn’t feel like home until he came into my life. This big, broad, blond, larger-than-life Highlander descended from the Vikings is my home and wherever he is, is where I’m most at home. It’s where I want to be.
Always.
Now that the threat of Samuel is gone, I’m free to live my life, but the Order is still out there. There are still people like them out there and I cannot rest until I’ve helped rid the world of them. All of them. Not just the ones who hurt me and Maeve, but every single last one of them must be dealt with. The fortunes they’ve used to hide their dark deeds and amassed at the expense of their victims must be appropriated and put to right their wrongs.
Draven and I came here so he could ask for permission to walk away from the Order. I know he’s hoping Everly will release him to raise Dillon in Scotland away from all this. She will. I know it in my heart of hearts.
He’s also hoping I’ll return with him. And that was my plan. At least, it was until I walked off the elevator and into my rooms. Looking over my space here, I know I can’t leave. I can’t walk away from this. It’s my purpose in life.
I have to keep working. I have to ensure the world is safe for Dillon and all the other children out there. I won’t stop until they’re stopped. I know that will never happen. This is a fight I’ll fight for the rest of my life. I can only hope someone will come along to continue it when I’m dead and gone.
Trailing my fingers over the surfaces of the room, I smile forlornly at the memories Draven and I made in this room. The chuckles and kisses. The spankings. The sex. I close my eyes, letting all of them wash over me. I’m more thankful than ever that I demanded we reconnect after my shower the other night.
I hadn’t known it then, but if we were going to have a last time together, we couldn’t have had a better one.
My heart crumbles at the decision I know I must make. As much as I want to be with Draven, I can’t give up my mission. I have to stay the course. I don’t know how I’m going to get him to understand. I barely understand it myself.
What I do understand is that I will have to make him hate me to get him to leave me here without him. But I refuse to let Dillon have the life I had, even in small measures. The Order took his mother from him and from Draven and I will not let this life rob him of anything else.
That means, when Draven returns from whatever the errand is he wanted to do on his own, I will tell him about Simon.
“It’s time I told the truth.”
“The truth about what, lilla du?”
I swivel, spinning on my heels so fast I make myself dizzy and nearly topple over.
“Hey. How long have you been there?” I ask as I grab onto the bedroom doorframe to keep myself upright.
He chuckles, walking toward me. The man is sex on a stick, and I want to climb him like a tree. Well, not with him carrying Dillon, and with what I’m about to do. Never again.
“Nae long. I actually just got here.”
“Are you going to tell me what your errand was about?” I ask again.
“Nae, anything nefarious. I met with Bridget, my neighbor, and asked her to be Dillon’s nanny and teach me how nae to kill the lad and to clean out my house. That is all.”
My mouth drops open in an “O” for a moment before actually uttering the word.
“What secret are ye keeping, Tavish, that needs to be divulged?”
“I’ve been keeping something from you since the beginning. One you’ll hate me for once you find out the truth.”
“What is it, lad? Because I cannae think o’ anything that would or could change the way I feel about ye.”
“I watched them beat Simon.”
I pause, looking at him, trying to digest what he said. He swallows, then asks, “What do ye mean, ye watched them beat him?”
“I was there.”
He walks past me into the bedroom, laying the baby down before facing me. “Ye were there when they killed him?”
