“Not so haughty now, are ye, Laird,” Broderick scathed.
“If only ye would let me loose I would gladly show ye how haughty I can be,” he mocked in a deadly tone, as another blow landed on him from behind into his kidney. This time the metallic taste of copper filled his mouth from his own blood.
“I see ye still have not learned yer lesson,” Broderick clasped his aching hand.
“What lesson might that be?” Gavin taunted as another meaty fist slammed into his chest and a rib made a sickening cracking sound from the impact. Instantly, he heaved, fighting to bring air back into his lungs.
“Just tell me where the lass is and ye can go back with yer men, where ye belong.”
Gavin fought to keep his eyes open, although doing so gave him an unholy view of dangling feet that belonged to his men, some who had only just become old enough to be called such. And he had failed them. He failed them all, including the lass.
“Not ta worry, I will find her,” Broderick boasted.
“I’d wish ye luck in that but I would prefer ye went back ta hell.”
Broderick’s face twisted as he flexed his fingers. “When I find her, and I will,” he promised. “We will see if the lass can do what the other failed to do.” A sneer broke across his face.
His words brought Gavin back from his slipping consciousness. “What are ye talking about? Jillian left of her own accord, she went back…”
“She sunk she did, like a rock,” Broderick jeered. “Well,” he amended chuckling. “She did once we weighted her skirts down with rocks.”
“Ye killed her?” Gavin felt ice pour through his veins, freezing him from the inside out. She didn’t leave him like he thought.
“I think that is too harsh a word.” Broderick rubbed his knuckles. “Ye see…she couldn’t swim with the extra weight, so she drowned.” He shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
“Why ye sorry excuse for a ….” Gavin fought against the restraints with renewed vigor.
“Watch the name calling, Laird,” he scathed. “I only did what ye didn’t have the guts ta do yerself.”
She didn’t leave him after all. A bone crushing sadness closed in on him and he could barely take a breath. “She was innocent.”
“Och,” Broderick snorted. “She was a witch, just like the one that’s here now.” He took a step forward and lowered his voice, leaning down close to his face. “Although I have to say she was a mite comelier than her replacement, aye?”
Rage tore through Gavin. Jerking forward, he freed one arm and slammed his fist into Broderick’s smug smiling face.
Stumbling back from the blow, Broderick clasp his eye that was already swelling shut. Letting out an earsplitting roar he charged forward and slammed his fist into Gavin’s jaw.
Gavin’s head snapped back like a whip from the impact. When the darkness came for him this time, he went willingly.
♦
Hidden in the bushes where she dumped the rushes, Paige stayed hidden and listened to the exchange between Gavin and Broderick. She couldn’t see the tree with the dead men, which she was glad for. The feet dangling above her head would be forever burned into her memory. Biting back the urge to be sick, a familiar ache settled upon her chest, not only for the men but because of what she just heard. Gavin knew about the so-called treasure all along. And he was going to sacrifice her. To what, though? She still didn’t know, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now she knew why Gavin acted the way he did towards her. He was in love with another. And Broderick killed this girl, just like he was planning on doing to Paige—if he found her.
Someone walked by.
Paige didn’t dare turn or move a muscle. Her hiding place was not the best. If someone looked over the side of the stairs, they would surely see her. But it was the only place she could find on short notice.
A blustery wind kicked up a good amount of dirt and debris. The tree limbs creaked in protest bringing the unholy sight of the men she had seen hanging from the branches back.
Her stomach lurched. Bile burned its way up her throat and into her mouth. Terrified, she would be heard she forced it back down.
♦
It seemed like hours passed but it could have been only minutes. Time didn’t have much meaning when a person was trapped. The men finally left the courtyard and made their way into the castle. Paige hunkered down behind the bush, burying herself under the dirty rushes, barely breathing.
It was already growing dark. Ominous clouds swirled above in the gray sky. Against the eerie backdrop, Gavin hung limply from one of the low hanging branches, with his arms stretched above his head. He wasn’t moving and his head was cocked strangely to the side. She didn’t know if he was alive or dead. She tried not to think about it.
Moving slowly as to not make noise, she crawled out from under the filthy rushes, pushed the branches of the bush open, and peered through. She could hear the men inside the castle, laughing and making a good amount of ruckus. She cringed from the sound. How could anyone laugh and carry on like that when such horror was right outside the door. Monsters.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, on her hands and knees she slipped out from her hiding place and came nose to nose with Elvis. He wagged his tail happily and then slobbered a good amount of spit on her face when he licked her with his tongue.
Rubbing his balding head, she pushed him back and stood up, pressing her body against the wall. “Stay,” she told him in a low voice so she wouldn’t be heard. Thankfully, for once he listened.
Gathering her skirts in her hands, she crouched down and sprinted across the yard to the other side of the tree. The door was open and there was a straight view to where she was. She ducked around the side. Hoping against hope they wouldn’t look outside, she crossed over to Gavin. He looked so white. Blood dripped down the side of his face. “Please don’t be dead,” she prayed as she lifted her hand to his neck.
After a few moments of freaking out—she finally found his pulse—it was faint but at least he had one. Thank God!
Standing on her tip-toes, she reached up to unbind the leather strips on his wrists. The limb creaked and bobbed under his weight.
She nearly got him untied.
His body jerked against and knocked her off balance. She fell backward against the tree. A dangling foot was just above her head. Stifling the urge to scream, she looked back at the castle to make sure she was still undetected. Thank the Lord they didn’t seem to see her.
“Gavin, it’s me,” she whispered.
His eyes looked crazed, frantically searching for where her voice was coming from.
She tentatively reached out and placed her ice-cold hand on his heated skin.
He flinched.
“It’s all right,” she lied. Nothing was all right.
“Lass?” He shuddered out a breath of air.
“Shhh, don’t waste your breath. I’ll have you untied in just a minute.”
“Ye have to run. Run as fast as ye can,” he was talking quickly.
“Not without you.” She finished untying his wrists.
His full weight fell down on her and she had all she could do to keep standing. Shouldering him upward, she slung his arm around her neck. “Can you walk?”
“Aye, I think.”
“You have to do better than that. Come on,” she used her sternest voice hoping it would spur him to move faster.
“I thought ye were dead,” he rasped, sounding surprised that she wasn’t.
A surge of annoyance shot through her. “Well, I’m not. So come on.” She jerked him and he immediately gasped in pain. She felt bad but they didn’t have time to dawdle, or make small talk.
“Aye, I can see ye are not dead,” he griped, and took another long shuddering breath.
“If you don’t get your ass moving we will be,” she snapped. Her anger was dwindling fast and fear was creeping back out to grab hold of her, and if that happened, they would both be screwed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
Sometime during the reign of King James
“Lass, listen ta me,” Gavin said with urgency, which didn’t seem right.
Her head listed to the side, trying to get away from the insistent tapping against her face. Paige finally opened her eyes and immediately screamed.
“Shhh, lass, do not scream,” he warned as a hand promptly covered her mouth.
“Gavin?” she mumbled past his fingers
“Aye lass, it’s me,” he said softly, lifting his hand from her mouth.
Paige got her bearings and the horror of what she had seen came rushing back. “All those men…they’re dead…” A fresh wave of tears slipped from her eyes as the cloying feeling she had felt earlier came back to take hold.
“I know, lass.” His voice carried the weight of a great pain and sadness as he spoke.
“Why?” It was the only word she could manage.
“They want the treasure.”
“The treasure…”
“Aye, the treasure,” he repeated.
“I thought you said there wasn’t a treasure.”
“I lied.”
“Why?” A sickening feeling settled in her stomach as she remembered a bit too clearly what finding the treasure entailed. She scooted away from him.
“What is wrong?”
He sounded so concerned she almost caved. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t have much choice.”
“You didn’t have much choice…” she sounded like a broken record.
“Aye.”
“You had a choice. You just chose not to tell me.” She stood up and stepped into water.
She gasped, shocked by the frigidness of the water. “
Gavin didn’t move. “I know. I lied. But I didn’t know….I didn’t know…” he repeated, quieter now.
“What didn’t you know?” She sloshed her way through the water back over to the ledge she was on moments before and climbed on top.
“I made a deal.”
“What deal?”
“With the witch,” he mumbled.
All her fear went to the wayside again. “What witch?”
“The one that sent you here,” he said and she could hear the strain in his voice. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was upset or in pain.
“What about her?”
“The King is superstitious. He thinks witches are making his boats sink and stealing his gold.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything. Don’t ye see?”
“No. Gavin. I don’t’ see.”
“I was…am, supposed to retrieve it for him in return for my freedom.”
“So what is the problem? Why don’t you get it for him?”
“I would but there is a wee problem.”
“What is this wee problem? Surely you…”
“It is protected by the monster,” he added quietly.
“There’s a monster? There’s no such thing.” Even as she said it, she had a hard time swallowing it because there was no such thing as traveling to the past, and yet, here she was.
“Aye, lass,” he said, seemingly knowing she had just come to that very same far-reaching conclusion.
“What do I have to do with this…monster?”
“I was supposed ta sacrifice ye ta it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She pushed farther back up on the rocks.
“Lass, stop fretting, I was not going ta do it.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Other people want the treasure and they will stop at nothing to get it.”
“So let them take it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I still don’t get what that has to do with me?”
“Everything, lass,” he said so quietly it was only a whisper of air.
“Wait? What? I don’t understand.” A rush of water slid inside the cave and lapped against the rock she was standing on.
“Lass ye made a deal with a witch ta come here.”
“I did not!” she was adamant. “It was that damn Gypsy or…wait…are they the same?”
“Aye, lass,” he sighed. “Did she draw yer blood?”
“Well, yes. I already told you that.”
“Then ye made a binding deal, then.”
“I did?”
“Aye, lass, ye did.”
“So this is my fault? All the men…it’s my fault?” She had a hard time standing. She felt like her legs were going to buckle.
“Nay, lass,” he soothed. “Broderick would have found another reason to do what he did. I think he is trying to take the gold for himself and in doing so, double cross the King.”
“Are all of the men…?”
“Not all, but most,” he said answering the rest of her unspoken question.
Her heart constricted with heaviness. “Why?”
“They were in the way.”
“I don’t understand,” she told him and she didn’t.
“Lass, there is no time.”
“But if I didn’t come here…if I didn’t make the deal with the Gypsy…”
“Nay, lass.” He shifted to the side. “It still would have happened sooner or later. If it was not ye than it would have been someone else.”
“Like it did to…” She almost told him what she heard earlier about the girl he loved, but her heart constricted, making it hard to catch a breath, let alone keep speaking.
“I know lass,” he sighed. “She tricked us all.”
“Did the…” she swallowed hard, “the witch, kill all those men?”
“Nay, not the witch,” he said.
She felt him shake his head.
“Who then?” she asked.
“It was that bloody bastard, Broderick.”
Icy fingers of dread crawled over her skin. Just hearing his name made her feel sick. “But how could one man get so many of the others?”
“He must have drugged the ale. It was easy after that. The poor bastards didn’t even see it coming.”
Even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel his body grow rigid. “How did he get you?”
“I heard the commotion as I was heading downstairs…I saw what was happening, I tried to escape…”
“You just let him…”She couldn’t finish. It was too horrible to consider.
“Lass,” his voice was hoarse as he spoke. “Sometimes ye need ta make hard choices in life that are not the best, but sometimes, it is better ta run so ye may fight another day than ta stay ta fight and die in vain.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Aye, I tried but didn’t make it very far.”
“Laird…” she said, out of habit, still trying to come to terms with what he was telling her.
“Gavin,” he said.
“What?”
“Call me, Gavin, for I am not worthy of that title any longer.”
“Yes, you are,” she argued, feeling his pain.
“Nay, lass, a laird protects his men, he doesn’t let them….”
“It’s not your fault,” she cut him off before he could say the rest.
“Aye, it is,” he admitted. There he had said it out loud and even though he had damned himself and his men, he still felt a bit of tension ease from his chest from the admittance.
“Why are you saying that?” Her voice hitched in her throat.
“It does not excuse my actions, or lack thereof.”
“You had to, you said so,” she argued, feeling desperate.” She felt as though she was freezing from the inside out. She couldn’t breathe right; she couldn’t even think straight. “Stop, please,” she begged.
“Listen ta me.” He grabbed her arms and shook her slightly. “Ye have ta listen ta me.”
“I am listening to you.”
“When I tell ye ta run, run as fast and as far as ye can. Stay hidden until the mist comes and then slip insid
e of it and ye can get home.”
“Home…”
“Aye, lass…” he said. “ The moon will be full soon, and the mist will come as it always does,” he tried to explain. “Ye must get inside of it, let it take ye when it pulls, do not be afraid.”
“But you’ll be with me, right?
Silence that stretched between them, which was all the affirmation she needed. He wasn’t coming with her.
“Nay, lass, I can not go,” he finally said.
“Why?” she asked, struggling to find the right words to make him see reason. “It’s too late for them…” Even though she knew it was true, saying it out-loud made her sick to her stomach. “But…not you,” she finished on a sob.
“It is too late for me as well. I was damned a long time ago. I have only been walking in a shadow of my former self, biding my time until this day came.”
Her mind spun. She was trying to figure a way out of this mess but her brain wasn’t cooperating. Fear for him...for herself…was muddling her thoughts.
She pushed it down. Trying to stay strong…be brave…but she was none of those things. She was a coward—always had been. Didn’t she just admit that to herself a short while ago? Was it because of the other girl, his love, the one he lost she couldn’t help wondering in some sick part of her mind. Was that why he didn’t want to come with her?
At her bleakest point, she didn’t see a way out and she was suffocating with it. And just when all her hope had all but shriveled up inside another voice cut through the murkiness, the hopelessness of it all…
A glimmer of what could be wrapped itself around her and brought with it a calming realization that she could do this…for him, for her, for the men who died in vain, for them all. She had to.
“Och, lass,” he breathed, lifting his hand to her face and cupping it gently, taking her silence as something altogether different, acceptance maybe?
“I enjoyed our time together,” he said valiantly and she was sure if she could see his face he would be trying to give her one of his sexy heart-stopping smiles to make her feel better.
A sudden rush of emotions tore through her—anger won out. “How stupid are you?”
Lost in the Highlands, Volume One Page 28
