Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“If you’re to be a man of this Clan, and the fucking leader, you don’t hesitate to mete out punishment that’s due, nor do you ever back down in the face of taking a life for the protection of the Clan.” I know it, don’t I bloody fucking know it. I didn’t take the job as a damn cobbler or stone mason, or one of the men of the mines. Sometimes I wish I had.
Tavish was fearless. He’d have known exactly what to do. It seems Tavish always made the right decision, the brave decision, the one that made my father proud and strengthened the Clan. I don’t know if it’s something like hero worship or if my memory’s flawed, though. It was his fearlessness and bravery that led him to his death.
I stride to the window at the furthest end of the room, the one that overlooks the small Cowen family graveyard behind my family home. The grave in the furthest corner of the lot is bordered with the hearty purple heather native to our land, sturdy enough to withstand the bitter cold. Mum visits every damn week.
I’ll visit soon. I’ve been telling myself that since he died, but for some reason I haven’t done it.
A gentle knock comes on the door seconds before Islan barges in.
“Here you go!” she says with a grin, holding a sleek white box. “You were damn lucky Paisley was in town when you called, brother.” She rolls her eyes at Cairstina. “We live here in the bloody boondocks, takes ages to get there and back for an errand.” She winks at her. “You’ll thank me later, lass, I had her get a top of the line phone there. Better than my own damn mobile.” She tosses it to me and I catch it mid-air. “Since you were buying, I had her pick up a wee pressie for myself, too,” she says with a grin. In her palm lies a small white box. Of course I’ve no idea what the hell it is, and I don’t fucking care.
“Thanks, Islan, this is brilliant. Thank Paisley for me. Now off with you.”
“This is brilliant,” she repeats to Cairstina as she heads for the door. “It’s the kindest thing he’s ever said to me.” She opens the door and yells over her shoulder just before she shuts it. “You should be happy you’ve found yourself a mute woman, Leith. The one and only that’ll never talk back to you.”
Slam.
My father spoiled the fucking lot of them.
I look over to Cairstina, shocked to see her shoulders are shaking. Is she crying? Why the hell is she crying? I walk to her, as she wipes her eyes, and I suddenly realize she’s laughing.
“Don’t even think about following her lead, woman,” I say with warning in my voice. “She gets herself in plenty of trouble.”
Cairstina scribbles on the pad.
No doubt.
I mutter to myself as I call William, our tech help, and minutes later, her phone is working.
Cairstina’s fingers fly over the keys as she sends me a text.
Oh this is so much easier. Thank you, Leith.
I can’t explain why a little thrill of excitement goes through me at seeing her words on a screen, like I can almost hear her voice. It’d be pretty and soothing, feminine but strong.
“You’re welcome.”
She smiles at me, but I turn away.
I brought her here as my prisoner. I can’t help it if everything about her attracts me, even if I know we’re in danger. I can’t soften, even for someone like her.
“Who will miss you while you’re away?” I ask, not telling her I have no intention of ever returning her.
A shadow crosses her features, as she texts me her response.
No one, except maybe Father MacGowen, but weeks go by without us seeing one another, so I’d be surprised if even he misses me.
I’m not fucking made of steel, so that makes my heart ache for her.
“I see. Good. I don’t want anyone following you.”
No worries then.
I stand abruptly. “I want to take you outside. Can’t stand being in the fucking house this long, drives me mad.”
A text buzzes on my phone.
Okay. Sounds good. Do you have something for me to wear?
“Of course.”
I have the staff fetch us an overcoat, boots, and a hat for her, and I get into my own warmer wrappings to go outside. I have no plan as to where to take her, but find as we’re walking that I’m heading to the cemetery. My phone buzzes.
Where are we?
“I won’t tell you that, and you’re not allowed to speak unless I’ve spoken to you first.” She frowns but doesn’t reply, but before I can speak again, her boot hits a patch of ice. Her mouth parts in a silent gasp, as she pitches forward. I grab her by the elbow and quickly right her, holding her body up to mine to steady her. She pants hard, surprised from the near fall, and stares into my eyes.