I tugged my phone out of my pocket and quickly typed up a sentence on my notes, then handed it to Ramsay.
His eyes glanced over the words.
I think I know who is behind all of this: Eoghan McCall.
My friend handed my phone back to me. “Tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
I nodded, the guilt and dread all-consuming.
The smart thing would be to tell the police, but I didn’t want to point fingers at a grieving man if I was wrong.
Once PC William had taken all the statements he could, he left with Cammie and Forde to go take photos of her Defender and collect statements from her neighbors.
I hugged my sister close and only let her go when Forde promised he’d make sure she was safe. Trusting my friend to do just that, I reluctantly bid her good night. Laird hovered over his wee sister until Taran insisted he take Finella and relieve my mum and Greg from babysitting duties. I knew I was in for a phone call from Mum within five seconds of Laird and Finella returning home. Murray left with them since his mother was looking after Kelly, and a local would more than likely have already texted her to let her know about tonight’s events. He didn’t want her to worry.
Ramsay and Tierney departed too, but Taran and London hung back. London kept her distance as Taran approached me. Most of the cars had left the car park, but Aodhan was still talking to another community council member outside the building.
“How are you doing?” I asked Taran.
It was difficult to read her expression in the dim light flooding from the building’s entrance. “A wee bit shaken. Worried about your back.”
“It’s fine. Just bruised.”
Taran shifted restlessly on her feet. “You saved me tonight.”
Guilt suffused me because I’d most likely saved her from a monster of my own making. “Taran?—”
“Tomorrow. I’ll meet you at our cove. You can tell me your side of the story and I promise to listen.”
I knew her change of heart was because of my actions here. As much as I wanted to be the hero in her eyes, she had to know that I might be the reason she’d gotten hurt tonight. “Taran, I?—”
“I can’t promise anything, Quinn. But your first instinct was to protect me and … I guess maybe I need to know. I just need to know if you …” She looked away, the muscle in her jaw ticking. “I’ve spent the last nineteen years believing you fell out of love with me and moved on so easily with Kiera.”
Anguish and fury at her words mingled, but I clamped my lips shut.
Taran seemed to have to force herself to look me in the eye. “It probably won’t change anything … but I need to know what you were thinking when you chose Kiera.”
“Taran—”
“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.” She turned, her ponytail whipping around with the movement as she strode quickly back to London. The American threaded her arm through Taran’s and together they strolled off into the night.
“I’ve spent the last nineteen years believing you fell out of love with me and moved on so easily with Kiera.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. If only she knew. If only she fucking knew.
24.Quinn
October, Ten Years Ago
Band practice with Laird Macbeth was the last place I should be tonight. It had been a constant battle between my mind and heart not to delve back into past history, and I was losing it this week. It was seeing Heather skip off to school with her friend Lochan. The way their heads bent together, giggling at something, in their own wee world together. She was eight years old.
She was Taran’s age when Taran and I became best mates.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
The problem was this happened every few months. Not once in a blue moon. For nine years, I’d missed her so much it hurt.
It wasn’t fair to Kiera, so Itriednot to think about Taran.
