It was time she gave more in return.
Rhys
“Did ye find her? Is Hermione unharmed?”
The moment he saw Laird burst into the emergency room, Rhys leapt from the treatment table. The nurses stitching his wound protested and made a grab for him but Rhys shook them off.
“Aye. She’s well.” Laird’s expression was grim. “Hugh rescued her from Jameson. Unfortunately he took two bullets in the process. They’re taking him to the surgery to remove the one in his leg. The other passed through the side of his back. Claire and Emmy are waiting there.”
Hugh had been shot? Rhys cursed himself for allowing this calamity to go so far. There was some consolation in the knowledge they were safe, less in knowing he hadn’t been able to prevent what happened.
“And ye?” Laird clasped his uninjured shoulder, concern in his eyes. “Ye look hardy enough.”
“I am. The bullet went through the muscle they said wi’oot greater damage wi’in.” The pain meant nothing to him though. Not in comparison to what had been lost. “Did ye see Scarlett? Did she tell ye?”
“Aye,” Laird said, a wealth of emotion tainting the word. “I swear Halliday’s loss willnae be in vain. He sacrificed his life to protect Scarlett and Hermione. I owe it to him to avenge his death.”
“I’m sorry it wisnae me. It should ne’er hae come to this. My apologies, brother.”
“’Tis no’ yer fault, Rhys,” Laird reassured him. “My bairns are still alive because of yer efforts. I owe my life to ye and Hugh.”
“I disagree.” Rhys hung his head in misery and stopped Laird with a hand on his arm. “I failed ye. I let danger into our midst and failed to protect those we love.”
“Ye dinnae fail.”
The assurance did nothing to soothe Rhys’s regrets. He knew he’d made a serious blunder in not anticipating his enemy’s intent. As a result, blood had been spilled.
Not only his own.
“What next then?” he asked. “I take it Jameson got away?”
Laird’s lip curled. “Aye, he made it to his car before Connor caught up with him. Connor had Hugh’s keys wi’ him this morn, so he’s taken the car to try to find Jameson. He phoned me to let me know what happened. The police are searching as well. I’ve only come for the key to Scarlett’s car ‘ere I join in the hunt.”
“I’m coming wi’ ye.”
“Nay, Rhys. Stay wi’ Scarlett and the bairns. Protect them in case Jameson returns.”
“Ha! I dinnae ken how ye would trus—”
“Rhys!”
All the dejected sorrow his shortcomings stirred in Rhys burned away in a flash. Jack rushed toward him, concern stamped on his features. His feet carried him in that direction, a peculiar sensation Rhys hadn’t experienced in some time knotted his gut.
Most likely it wasn’t the one Jack anticipated.
“I heard shots had been fired here. Are yo—”
Jack’s head snapped to the side under the force of Rhys’s fist with a satisfactory crack that fed the burning rage in Rhys’s heart. Gasps and cries of alarm filled his ears, but Rhys wasn’t done yet. Yanking at Jack’s shirtfront, he jerked him forward and pulled his dagger from its sheath.
Laird’s hands were on Rhys, pulling him away. He wrenched the dagger from his grasp. “What are ye doing?”
Jack fell to the floor and stared up at him with the same question in his eyes. The blood on his lips did nothing to ease Rhys’s anger.
“He should ken well enough what he’s done,” Rhys raged and lurched forward, bent on beating the man unconscious.
Laird bound his arms behind his back and wouldn’t release him despite his struggles. “Calm yerself, brother. What has possessed ye?”
“He deserves it, Laird. I swear it.”
