I shake my head. “I said on the way down we needed a bloody fucking watchdog,” I mutter. “Take us home.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Cairstina
When I left home tonight,I had no idea I wouldn’t have to go back. At least for now.
The men I’m with are brutal and savage. I mean, I actually saw the man sitting next to mesnap the neck of another man.But he did it because that other man was going to kill me.
That’s something, right?
No one’s ever killed someone who was trying to kill me. I mean, I suppose most people can say that. It’s like something straight out of fiction, but if you watch the news you’ll know it actually does happen.
Too bad it wasn’t my brother.
The moment the thought comes to me, I hang my head in shame. My brother might be an abusive arsehole, but he doesn’t deserve to be killed. My father, on the other hand…
I don’t know how Bailey got out tonight, but my heart soars with hope when the man sitting next to me —Leith, did they call him?— said they needed a guard dog. My hands are bound in front of me, so fortunately I can stroke Bailey’s silky ears and kiss his nose.
Good boy,I think, praising him silently. But dogs are unlike people. Bailey licks my hand in appreciation for the praise. He understands me even though I don’t speak. He understands me even sometimes before I understand myself, that gift of intuition or something.
I should be afraid. I don’t know who the men in this car are or where we’re going. I have no idea what they’ll do to me when we get there. If they were going to rape me, wouldn’t they have done it already? Why take me to a remote location? Are they going to dispose of me because I’m a witness?
You are so naïve, Cairstina,I berate myself. Very few people talk to me, so I sort of make up for it by talking a lot to myself.
Of course I’m being far too naïve. They very wellcouldbe planning to take me somewhere to rape me, or kill me, or both, couldn’t they?
They’re talking amongst themselves, and at first it seems like they’re arguing, but clearly the man who bound me and took me is the leader. When he raps out sharp commands, the others fall into line. I’ve even heard ayes, sir,andright away, sir.Who is he that he commands these big, strong men so? Who are they that they defer to his authority?
They don’t want to take Bailey. “Good fucking guard dog,” the man one of them called Mac says. I don’t like him.
God, I shouldn’t likeanyof them. What is wrong with me? Am I so starved for protection that I’ve deluded myself into thinking that I’m safe with these men?
But Leith saved my life.
I blink when I realize Leith is talking to me.
“What are you called, lass?”
I shake my head. I would actually tell him my name if I could speak. A part of me would like to hear him sayCairstinain that rich, velvety voice of his. The accent’s a little thicker than you typically hear in town. So I’ve deduced at least one thing about them: these men are from the north. Highlanders, even, like the men of old. Rumor has it around here that no one lives there anymore, that the highlands are uninhabited, but that’s exactly where we’re pointed.
For some reason, that makes a little thrill of excitement shiver straight down my spine.
I realize suddenly that everyone in the car’s silent, and all eyes are on me. Even the driver’s eyes are on mine in the rearview mirror.
“Name,” Leith snaps, and this time he rests his hand on my knee and gives me a none-too-gentle squeeze. The man to my left stares down as well, both of us looking at the large, strong hand resting on my faded trousers. I haven’t gotten new clothes in ages, and for some reason, the realization I’m wearing clothes best suited for rags makes me intensely self-conscious. These men might be my enemies, but they’re good-looking enemies, goddammit.
I shake my head and don’t respond.
I blink in sudden surprise when the grip on my knee becomes painful, his voice no longer just stern but angry. “You’re coming with us as our prisoner. You’ve seen things you shouldn’t, and we’ll make certain you don’t tattle.”
“Should fucking do away with her,” the man in the front passenger seat mutters. Does he mean kill me?
The driver rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “That’s not our way, Mac, for the love of Jesus, you think we’re the bloody Aitkens or Wrights?” He shakes his head.
I tally my mental notes. Surly man in the front, Mac. And they’re not the Aitkens, but whoever the Aitkens are, they’re not someone these blokes here respect. Maybe they even hate them. The Aitkens are the Inverness mob, the bad guys. And these men deny they’ve anything to do with them.
The large man to my left is squashed up against the door, I realize, as if he doesn’t want to taint himself by touching me. He’s staring out the window, but when he speaks, I realize he’s speaking to me. “You know we could hurt you, lass?” His voice is almost a whisper. “In fact, there’s no way we won’t.”
