I glanced over my shoulder. Pete released my ankle, and I was just about to sag into the floor when he stuck his hand into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a switchblade. I sucked in a breath, cold shuddering through me as Pete raised his arms, eyes blazing down at me.
A shot rang through the air and Pete jerked. Another shot had the knife slipping from his hand. His mouth gaped open in shock as his entire body fell back onto the hardwood with a dull thud.
“Eilidh!” Fyfe moved toward me.
“Millie!” I cried, gesturing wildly toward her. “Millie first.”
Fyfe’s face paled. “Did he …?”
“No. But she’s scared.”
His hesitance to leave me was obvious.
Walker strode to me, kicking the knife out of Pete’s reach. I could hear his gargled breathing, but I didn’t want to look at him. Walker stood over him, putting his body between us. “I’ve got Eilidh. You see to your daughter.”
The muscle in Fyfe’s jaw clenched, but he hurried over to the cot. I watched him cradle Millie in his arms. Black dots started creeping in on the edge of my vision. “Walk,” I mumbled.
“Eilidh, are you okay?”
“Just … just warning you … I’m about to pass …” The darkness drew me in before I could even remember what it was I’d tried to tell him.
Thirty-Two
EILIDH
Everyone was afraid to let me out of their sight.
Feeling guilty for putting them through this, I’d fought my exhaustion as we crowded together in my parents’ living room.
But now it was almost midnight. Only my parents, Fyfe, Millie, and Mor lingered. Mor should be in bed, but instead she was cuddled into my side like a little girl. We lay back on the couch, feet up on the chaise, my arm around her as she snuggled against me. I stroked my wee sister’s hair in reassurance as our family milled around us.
My aunts and uncles had taken turns popping in to visit after I returned from a quick trip to the emergency room. I’d lost consciousness mostly from shock, though I did have a few bumps and bruises. My chin was swollen and bruised, along with my right eye and cheek. Mum kept bringing over a fresh ice pack to put on my eye until I waved her off, needing a break from the chill of it pressed to my skin.
The adrenaline coursing through my body had dulled the pain. It was only now, hours after the altercation, that the throbbing made itself known. I could feel Fyfe’s eyes on me thewhole evening, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He and Millie were staying at my parents’ tonight. I’d given them the annex. Millie was sleeping in a travel cot beside him while my family spoke in hushed tones. Lewis and Callie had reluctantly left a few hours ago to put Harley to bed. My aunts and uncles had slowly departed after that.
Mum and Dad were freaked out and attempting not to show how freaked out they were. I knew one of the reasons they’d secretly hated my career choice was because of the fame. Of the scrutiny it would bring. Of the strange folks who might fixate on me.
Their worst fear had come true.
Mine too.
Peter Pryor had hidden the darkness in him until he no longer could. He was under police supervision while he recovered from his two gunshot wounds (one in each shoulder). The police here coordinated with the Met Police in London. His attack on me was enough to get a hastily processed warrant, and they’d recovered his computer from his home this evening. Fyfe assured my family there was enough evidence on it to put Peter Pryor away for a long time. I despised the fact that there were strangers in the police department combing through recordings of me in my most private moments. And I dreaded the upcoming court case and the media frenzy it would cause.
Yet there was relief in knowing who was behind the violation. Relief in knowing he couldn’t hurt me again.
“I think Eilidh needs rest,” Fyfe said.
I still couldn’t look at him.
“Of course.”
“Will you sleep in my bed, Eils?” Mor asked quietly.
I also hated that this darkness I’d attracted had leaked into my family, affecting them too. “Aye,” I promised. I pushed to my feet and Morwenna came with me. Kissing my mum and dad,I waved in Fyfe’s direction without meeting his gaze and called good night to everyone.
Mor’s bedroom was a bookworm’s dream. Mor and Allegra McCulloch had painted a mural of a misty forest on the wall where Mor’s bed was placed. The largest wall in the room was filled with floor-to-ceiling custom shelves, stacked to the brim with books. There was even a ladder on a rail so she could reach the top shelves. Fairy lights were strung around her wrought iron bed frame. The room reminded me of innocence and magic, things I was sorely lacking this evening.
After we’d dressed for bed, we got in and Mor snuggled deep against me. Exhausted, she was out within minutes.
