She blows gently on the coffee in her cup and takes a sip."I'll pass.But if I ever suffer the urge to plummet to my death, you'll be the first person I call."
We sit here in silence for a moment.It isn't uncomfortable but not cozy either.In the morning light, I study her hands and her slender but strong fingers.I almost miss the faint tremor she tries to hide.Something in my chest aches, and I realize it must be guilt clawing at me.
"I'm sorry about last night, Gretchen."The words felt strange as I spoke them, but I cannae be nervous.No, that's rubbish.
Gretchen lowers her mug just enough for me to see the angle of her jaw."Sorry for what?Kicking me out after we had sex, or for dragging me into your midnight Highland Game of Thrones?"
"Dougal will never harass you again.You have my word."
She squints at me as if she's trying to seem dangerous, but the lass cannae accomplish it.She's too kind and sweet."I have no idea whether I can trust anything you've said.I mean, you did ditch me seconds after we screwed.And now, you're turning on the charm.Give me one good reason why I shouldn't knee you in the balls and walk away."
I instinctively adjust my crotch.Why so many blokes like me do that after a woman uses the word balls, I can't explain.But I reckon it's ingrained in our primal instincts."Give me another chance, Gretchen.Please, I'm begging ye."
She twists her lips into the oddest expression, moving her lips from side to side.Then she blows out a sigh."Okay, fine.I'm a sap of the highest order, so I'll listen to whatever bullshit you want to spout."
"Thank you."Well, least she's talking to me, even if a curse word wasn't what I'd hoped for.
She stares at me until I begin to fidget in my seat, then she sighs."All right, go ahead.Lay it on me.If you can out-weird yesterday, I'll buy your breakfast for the next week."
I try to stare deeply into her eyes, but the sunglasses mask them.I sense she's bracing for some epic tale, the kind that ends with bodies floating in a loch or an arrest record in three countries.I almost laugh, because compared to that, my story is tame.
But it's not easy to reveal aloud.
"Dougal and I, we grew up in vastly different worlds.For most of our lives, we've disliked each other, but not enough to say we were enemies.Honestly, I never thought about him at all, and if I saw him on the street, I paid him no mind.Still, I'd heard the rumors about his shady activities."How should I explain the rest?It sounds like Hollywood rubbish, but I'll do my best."Then a year ago, a mate of mine, a young laddie who was only seventeen years old, got into serious trouble at an underground nightclub owned by Dougal MacWraith."
Gretchen leans toward me, her lips no more than a hair's breadth from mine.She seems enthralled by the story, not by my proximity.
"I had no idea what went on in Dougal's organization," I tell her."Kenny MacDonald was desperate to impress a girl and ended up owing money to MacWraith.Nobody would listen to him until he'd gotten in so deep that he was scared for his life."
"The poor kid."She gazes into my eyes as if she's already guessed the rest of my tale."Is Kenny the one Dougal was talking about?"
"Aye, he is."I hesitate, because I can virtually hear the gears in Gretchen's mind working, as if she's empathizing with this laddie despite never having met him."That was when Dougal swooped in and paid off the debt.Not because he's a charitable sort, mind you.He wanted leverage against both of us.From that day on, he held a marker over my head."
Gretchen lowers her mug.Her lips turn down at the corners, and for the first time since I sat my erse down on this chair, she's truly looking at me."Dougal blackmailed you."
"No, not blackmail.Dougal swore he'd cash in my debt at the appropriate time."I shut my eyes but then force myself to look directly at her."I assumed Kenny's debt and became Dougal's personal errand-boy, but it was more than that.He used my job to coerce me into doing stunts for his entertainment.The more hazardous, the better."
Chapter Eleven
Gretchen
"Oh, Kirk.That's awful."I reach out to touch his arm, but he pulls away just enough to keep me from doing that."Even I could figure out that Dougal is a dirtbag like no other who belongs in his own special corner of hell.But you can't just do whatever he says.Don't you have cops here in Scotland?In Loch Fairbairn?"
"Aye, but---"
"No buts, no excuses.Let's go to the police station now."
He fists his hands on the tabletop, and his jaw grinds."I cannae do that.I told you why.So, please, go back to America and forget you ever set foot in Scotland."
"I won't do that I can't.You'll have to tie me up with duct tape---hands, legs, and mouth---if you intend to stop me from staying in this country."
"Gretchen---"
"No, I won't leave."
He slams his palms onto the table, rattling my coffee mug so violently that a few drops slosh out and glisten in the morning sun.People at neighboring tables stop mid-bite to gawk."Dammit, Gretchen, ye dinnae understand.If I rat him out, Dougal will destroy everything---and everyone---I care about.This isn't an American movie where the villain always gets carted off in handcuffs and the heroes go home unharmed."
I won't mention that in American movies, the hero also gets the girl and rides off on a motorcycle into the sunset.Instead I say, more gently, "So you'd rather play Dougal's game than risk...what, exactly, Kirk?Your pride?Your family?Or something else?"
