“Where the bloody hell’d you go?” I ask when we reach them, not bothering to hide my anger.
Clyde looks abashed, and Tate shakes his head apologetically.
“Sorry, brother, we tried the normal way we have in the past, but the door was bloody locked, and we didn’t have time to pick it. If we broke it, we’d risk the weekend crew finding the body before our contact did.”
I grumble, but he has a point.
“We found a second option, though, Leith,” Clyde says. “Found another place to leave him but it took longer than expected.”
“We’re sorted then?”
“Aye,” Tate says. “Where’s the girl?”
I hear voices at the back of the cemetery. Jesus, all we need is another fucking witness. “Back in the car. Fuckingmove.”
My brothers may be big and bulky, but we’ve trained hard and thoroughly, having learned stealth at a young age. We move like ghosts in the night. Not so much as a twig snaps as we make our way to our car.
Feels surreal taking a prisoner back home with us, especially someone as pretty and intriguing as this one. I scowl as we push past the low-hanging tree branches. I can’t fucking let myself get weak. I’ve seen more than one of my men fall for a pretty woman who was more dangerous than she first appeared.
She’s there, though, still sitting with her back ramrod straight and her eyes fixed ahead. She doesn’t even turn when we open the door.
Clyde and Tate go to get in the back, but I shake my head.
“Clyde, you’ll drive. I want to interrogate our prisoner on the way back.” It’s partly a lie. Interrogation is only one of my reasons. I don’t want Clyde sitting beside her, but my brother’s another story. He’d never touch a woman that belonged to me.
Jesus.
Why the bloody hell am I even thinking along these terms? She doesn’t belong to me. She isn’t mine.
But when she looks to me, and her eyes meet mine, I can’t help the instant reaction.Mine,my instinct says. They say the call of the bagpipes is our call to arms, deeply woven into our very DNA. My attraction to this woman is every bit as innate and instinctive, like the lonesome wail of the pipes, and there’s no point bloody fighting it. For now, I’ll make her my prisoner, no need to explain to anyone beyond that.
My men obey, Clyde taking the driver’s seat and Mac sliding in beside him. Tate gets into the back to her left and I get in to her right.
“Fucking go,” I tell Clyde, when suddenly the woman starts shaking her head and rocking beside me. She smacks at my leg. At first, I’m too surprised to react, but when she does it a second time, I grab her wrist and restrain her.
“Stop that,” I mutter. “Jesus. What the hell is it?”
She looks out the window to her right, and my eyes follow hers. I blink in surprise when I see a dog running to us. What the fuck is this? He paws at the door and begins to bark, the bloody bastard.
“Go,” Mac says. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”
Clyde gives him a sidelong look, half surprise, half anger.
“For my Captain’s fucking orders,” he growls. Good man. He’ll be rewarded for his loyalty.
I’d leave the mutt if not for our prisoner’s agitation. Even now, I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing. I open the door, and the dog leaps straight into the crowded back seat, goes to the woman and licks her face. She grins at him. Bloodygrins.
“What the hell, Leith?” Tate asks.
“No fucking names,” I snap.
“Doesn’t matter, brother. We’re taking her prisoner, aren’t we?”
He’s right.
I shake my head and shut the door.
“Leith?” Clyde asks, looking at me in the rearview mirror. He’s as bewildered as I am.
