But idiots with weapons were still dangerous.
Disdain and wrath settled over me, but I kept a lid on it.
“Twenty minutes away.”
“Does she know about it?” He pointed at London.
“No one knows about it. That’s why you haven’t been able to find the watch.”
Pollock sneered but nodded. “Kick your phones to me. Now!”
Quickly, we did just that.
“Are there any other phones?”
We shook our heads.
With a grunt, he turned around and marched over to the curtains, ripping off the curtain ties. He strode around us and pulled a dining chair out into the room. He jerked the gun at London. “Sit.”
My instincts roared to stop him, to protect her, but London squeezed my arm as she passed and sat in the chair. She winced as the imbecile roughly tied her hands behind her back.
He thought this meant he was safe?
He did realize he’d shot a gun in a residential area, right?
Numpty.
Pollock gripped my elbow in a bruising hold and hauled me out of the room. “Lòchran Dòchas!” I called over my shoulder to London.
“What the fuck is that?” He shook me angrily.
“Gaelic for I love you,” I lied.
He grunted and tugged me so hard out the door, I nearly stumbled down the stairs. Praying one of my neighbors proved to live up to their nosiness, I struggled just enough that if they were watching, they’d know something was wrong. Pollock shoved me into the unfamiliar black car parked in front of mine. “Tell me where we’re going.”
And so I shakily directed him to the one place that had the highest guarantee of isolation so no one else was in danger of being hurt.
I just had to hope the Leth Sholas Police would reach us in time before Pollock used that gun on me.
49.Quinn
The drive from Scaris to Oban seemed to take forever in the early hours of the morning. But finally, we were on the ferry and Leth Sholas was in sight. The colorful row of buildings on Main Street grew more visible as the boat cut through the water. Relief, as well as urgency, thrummed through me as we neared home.
Taran. It had only been two days, but I missed her.
The thought elicited a spearing pain under my sternum that I still wasn’t used to, my hands tightening around the railing as our boat bobbed across the water, drawing us nearer to home.
I was grateful the weather was calm enough to allow travel back to Leth Sholas. Ramsay and I had driven to Scaris to assess whether we wanted to take on the job of fixing the mistakes made on the Montrose development.
The Montrose brothers had started work on the distillery right away since it takes so long to get a whisky distillery up and running, but the hotel and auxiliary cabins were a mess, and we could definitely fix them. Since it took five hours to get there and another five hours to get back, the Montroses would pay extra for us to stay in the temporary cabins the previous construction company put up to accommodate the crew. We would have tostay on Scaris four nights a week to finish the hotel, and I just wasn’t sure if I could do that right now.
All I could think of was Taran.
Until the sound of sirens blared across the noise of the bustling harbor filling me with unease.
The boat jerked as Gillie, the driver, drew it to a stop by the dock.
The blood rushed in my ears as the only two police cars and ambulance on the island flew off Main Street and out of sight.
