‘And you thought confronting him there was a wise solution?’ I navigate around a delivery van. ‘What about letting a solicitor handle it?’
He has the grace to look ashamed. ‘I wasn’t planning anything. Just saw in his Instagram story where he was, and I snapped.’
My brain clicks back into strategy mode. ‘He confessed? We have a witness? That’s fantastic. We can sue him into the next century. Defamation, breach of privacy… Oh, that’s going to be some juicy legal action.’ I try to sound professional when all I really want to do is find Kit and run him over with my Fiat. ‘Revenge porn is illegal in Scotland. Recording without consent?—’
‘Naw.’ Finn cuts me off and shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. ‘The guy’s a mess, Theo. A sad, sleazy bastard. He’s fucked enough as is.’
‘You’re defending him?’
‘I’m not defending him. I’m just saying I don’t want to spend the next year of my life in court with him.’
I turn onto Queen’s Drive, the road curving upward. Finn frowns, peering out the window. ‘Wait. Where are we driving? That’s not where my car is, and that’s definitely not the way to Leith.’
‘I think it’s high time that we talk.’ The words come out way steadier than I feel. ‘And I know the best spot.’
He doesn’t argue, just watches the city lights spread out below us as the car climbs.
‘So, Lennox – what exactly occurred in that sinkhole for the financially advantaged and morally compromised?’
‘Found him in a booth and told him I knew what he’d done and what a disgusting, blackmailing cunt he is.’ A pause. ‘Was planning to leave it at that.’
‘But…?’
‘But he said something as I was walking away.’ His voice drops. ‘And I lost it.’
We’re approaching Blackford Hill now, the dome of the Royal Observatory visible against the night sky. I pull into the small car park, and kill the engine. The sudden silence feels heavy. Below us, Edinburgh is a constellation of gold and white lights against the deep black of the Firth of Forth.
‘What do you mean, “something” and “lost it”? Elaborate.’
Finn stares straight ahead, his profile sharp in the dim light. His jaw works, as if he’s chewing on words he doesn’t want to say.
I reach into the back seat, grab the tin of shortbread, and shove it into his hands. ‘Here. Eat and tell me everything.’
He pries open the lid, takes a biscuit, and puts it back without taking a bite. His eyes meet mine. ‘He insulted you. And I head-butted him.’
I glare at him, unable to process the words. ‘You…head-butted him?’ I repeat slowly. ‘Because he insulted me?’
Finn nods, the movement small and tight.
‘You got yourself arrested,’ my voice rises with each syllable, ‘risked your career and everything we’ve worked for because a bully said something mean about me?’
‘Aye. I don’t care what it costs me. Nobody talks about you like that.’
‘How old are you? Six?’ I stare at him, mouth slightly open, brain buffering.
He shrugs, his eyes on the skyline as if this isn’t the most confusing night of either of our lives. ‘He deserved it.’
‘Oh, no doubt. Grade A arsehole. But this is not medieval Scotland, and you do not have to defend my honour with brute force. You’re lucky that this kind of club doesn’t allow cameras or mobiles.’
His head turns. Slowly. ‘Wasn’t really a pro-and-con decision, Theo. He riled me up.’
‘Riled you up?’ My voice squeaks on the word you. ‘You’re a professional athlete.’
‘I won’t let anyone speak about you like that. Not in my presence. Ever.’
The words drop like bricks. No apology. Just that flat, gritty conviction in his voice. It should piss me off. It really should. But something strange happens inside me instead. I go weirdly floaty and warm. As if I’ve swallowed a hot-water bottle.
My fingers twitch on my knee. ‘Why?’
