“I will nae die this day.”
But Tyrone hadn’t thought he would either. How could she bear knowing he’d died for her?
As if Laird knew where her thoughts had gone, he hugged her and added, “I am saddened for yer loss, mo chroí. Tyrone was a good mon and will ever hae my gratitude for defending ye. For saving ye and our daughter. Nae man could ask for a more honorable death. His sacrifice will be remembered at Heaven’s gate.”
Scarlett gulped back another wretched sob.
“And Jameson will be remembered for his deeds at Hell’s doors,” he vowed gruffly. “Ye hae my word on that.”
She nodded, though the assurance did nothing to ease her agonizing grief.
The medics tried to lift Hugh onto a gurney. Temporary bandages in place, they would take him to the emergency department. Hugh swatted them away and stood on his own. Scarlett leapt to her feet and handed Hermione to Laird.
Hurrying to his side, she took his arm. “Here, lean on me.”
Ha, he’d crush her if he did. Nevertheless he humored her and let a bit of weight rest on her arm. On one leg, he hopped to the stretcher, pale by the time he sat on it.
“Lie down before you fall down,” she commanded.
“Ye dinnae hae to worry aboot me, lass.”
“Yes, I do.” God, she was going to lose it again, but there was no keeping it together after what had happened. Scarlett threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. “I’m so sorry, Hugh. I was trying not to but I can’t…I can’t.”
“Dinnae fash yerself,” he murmured. “It disnae matter.”
“But it does. I couldn’t bear having another person to worry about,” she confessed. “I didn’t want to care. But I do. I’m sorry I didn’t show it before. Please don’t risk yourself again.”
“’Tis what family does.” Hugh’s arms tightened around her. “We give for those we love.”
Yes, they did. So many had given of themselves. Endangered themselves for her.
It was time she gave more in return.
Rhys
“Did ye find her? Is Hermione unharmed?”
The moment he saw Laird burst into the emergency room, Rhys leapt from the treatment table. The nurses stitching his wound protested and made a grab for him but Rhys shook them off.
“Aye. She’s well.” Laird’s expression was grim. “Hugh rescued her from Jameson. Unfortunately he took two bullets in the process. They’re taking him to the surgery to remove the one in his leg. The other passed through the side of his back. Claire and Emmy are waiting there.”
Hugh had been shot? Rhys cursed himself for allowing this calamity to go so far. There was some consolation in the knowledge they were safe, less in knowing he hadn’t been able to prevent what happened.
“And ye?” Laird clasped his uninjured shoulder, concern in his eyes. “Ye look hardy enough.”
“I am. The bullet went through the muscle they said wi’oot greater damage wi’in.” The pain meant nothing to him though. Not in comparison to what had been lost. “Did ye see Scarlett? Did she tell ye?”
“Aye,” Laird said, a wealth of emotion tainting the word. “I swear Halliday’s loss willnae be in vain. He sacrificed his life to protect Scarlett and Hermione. I owe it to him to avenge his death.”
“I’m sorry it wisnae me. It should ne’er hae come to this. My apologies, brother.”
“’Tis no’ yer fault, Rhys,” Laird reassured him. “My bairns are still alive because of yer efforts. I owe my life to ye and Hugh.”
“I disagree.” Rhys hung his head in misery and stopped Laird with a hand on his arm. “I failed ye. I let danger into our midst and failed to protect those we love.”
“Ye dinnae fail.”
The assurance did nothing to soothe Rhys’s regrets. He knew he’d made a serious blunder in not anticipating his enemy’s intent. As a result, blood had been spilled.
Not only his own.
“What next then?” he asked. “I take it Jameson got away?”
Laird’s lip curled. “Aye, he made it to his car before Connor caught up with him. Connor had Hugh’s keys wi’ him this morn, so he’s taken the car to try to find Jameson. He phoned me to let me know what happened. The police are searching as well. I’ve only come for the key to Scarlett’s car ‘ere I join in the hunt.”
“I’m coming wi’ ye.”
“Nay, Rhys. Stay wi’ Scarlett and the bairns. Protect them in case Jameson returns.”
“Ha! I dinnae ken how ye would trus—”
“Rhys!”
All the dejected sorrow his shortcomings stirred in Rhys burned away in a flash. Jack rushed toward him, concern stamped on his features. His feet carried him in that direction, a peculiar sensation Rhys hadn’t experienced in some time knotted his gut.
Most likely it wasn’t the one Jack anticipated.
“I heard shots had been fired here. Are yo—”
Jack’s head snapped to the side under the force of Rhys’s fist with a satisfactory crack that fed the burning rage in Rhys’s heart. Gasps and cries of alarm filled his ears, but Rhys wasn’t done yet. Yanking at Jack’s shirtfront, he jerked him forward and pulled his dagger from its sheath.
Laird’s hands were on Rhys, pulling him away. He wrenched the dagger from his grasp. “What are ye doing?”
Jack fell to the floor and stared up at him with the same question in his eyes. The blood on his lips did nothing to ease Rhys’s anger.
“He should ken well enough what he’s done,” Rhys raged and lurched forward, bent on beating the man unconscious.
Laird bound his arms behind his back and wouldn’t release him despite his struggles. “Calm yerself, brother. What has possessed ye?”
“He deserves it, Laird. I swear it.”
“Rhys!” Jack protested, holding up a hand. “What have I done?”
All around them, patients and staff alike gawked at the spectacle. Rhys didn’t care. About them or the fiery pain in his shoulder. He needed this revenge to purge his own guilt. For what he’d witnessed above stairs.
And for what he hadn’t seen until it was too late.
Never had he felt so ineffectual. He’d done nothing. Saved no one. Their foe had escaped as a result.
“How dare ye show yer face here?” Rhys snarled at the man he’d considered a friend and perhaps even something more. “Ye knowingly brought this danger onto my family. Did I no’ warn ye what would happen to any who did harm to those I love?”
“What?” Jack gasped. “What is this?”
“Jameson!” The name left his lips like the foulest oath. “Yer client, or did ye forget? The moment I saw him up there, I kent what ye’d done. Ye played me for a fool and led that monster to our door. I’ll hae yer blood for it, ‘pon my word!”
He jerked away from Laird again and this time his brother let him go. No doubt he’d like to take his own ounce of flesh from Jack’s hide, but he would have to wait his turn. Rhys bent and hauled Jack to his feet, ready to have at him again. Jack did nothing to defend himself.
“Jameson did this?”
There was enough disbelief in his inquiry to forestall Rhys’s fist. “Aye, Jameson. Well ye kent it. I was a right git bastard no’ to see it. What did he gi’ ye to betray us all?”
“I didn’t! I swear!” Jack held up his hands in surrender. “I mean, he hired me to find out about you, but I thought it was because he was obsessed with Scarlett.” Rhys drew back his fist, anger surging once more. Jack raced on, “But I quit. I swear, once I got to know you. All of you. I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”
“No’ sorry enough,” Rhys growled and shoved him away, though he took no joy in watching Jack stumble back against the wall. “Away wi’ ye, ye traitorous arse. Ne’er darken my door again or I will finish what was begun here.”
“Rhys!”
There was protest and heartbreak in that single word. Rhys steeled himself against it. Against the anguish scoring his heart in turn. He’d trusted too
readily. He’d never forgive himself for it.
He turned his back and dabbed at the blood trickling down his bare chest. The sutures had torn from his efforts. So much more than that seemed frayed however.
“Leave while ye can still walk from this place, lad,” Laird told Jack, violence barely contained evident in his strained tone. “Rhys is no’ the only threat to ye here.”
“Please—”
“Leave!” Rhys shouted, spinning on his heel. “If ye value yer life.”
The onlookers gasped collectively. No doubt they’d never seen the potential for murder at such close quarters before. There’d be a dozen witnesses to condemn Rhys should he be provoked further.
“Damn it,” Jack persisted. “I tried to help. I told him you were all leaving soon. I hoped it would dissuade him from his continuing this pursuit.”
Rhys’s hands curled into fists. “Ye only stirred the hornet’s nest, lad. Go ‘ere ye do any more harm to us.”
“No! I can help,” Jack protested. “Please let me make this up to you.”
“Ye cannae.”
“But I know where he is!”
Laird
“The Edinburgh Royal Infirmary is on lockdown following reports of an active shooter on site. News crews and family members surround the hospital this afternoon awaiting news of their loved ones.”
The news reporter on the television screen stood in front of the hospital. In the background of the camera angle, dozens of people huddled behind the police barrier. As many news vans and emergency vehicles with flashing lights filled out the scene. Jameson would be a fool to show his face here again.
Which meant they’d have to take the fight to him.
The newscaster went on, “Early reports have it there is at least one dead, several more injured in the attack. No motive is known at this time. Nor is there news yet of actress Scarlett Thomas who was in the facility at the time of the attack or whether the shooter has been apprehended.”
“He hisnae,” Laird grumbled. “Nor is he likely to be if they dinnae let us oot of here soon.”
“Hae patience,” Hugh said from his hospital bed. He’d been admitted for observation following his surgery, but hoped to be released soon. His stay provided them a private place to meet and discuss their plans. “The lockdown will end as soon as they clear everyone inside of wrongdoing, then they will turn their attentions elsewhere.”
Claire watched the news report without the same impatience as the rest of them. “Why don’t you just tell the authorities you know where Jameson is? Let them take care of him?”
They all cast varying levels of malevolence upon Jack Prescott who sat in the corner. His expression spoke of regret, however Laird wasn’t prepared to forgive the lad for his part in all this. Unknowing or not. Ignorance was no excuse. They kept him close though, not wanting the police to know where to find Jameson before they could get to him. This was Laird’s fight and he meant to see it through.
“Claire has a point,” Emmy agreed. “Why not let the police get him? He’ll get life in prison for what he’s done.”
“Aye, but he’d still hae his life,” Laird contended. “A mon such as he deserves a harsher sentence.”
“But you would also have your lives,” Emmy maintained. “I saw more blood today than I can ever remember. I don’t want to see more from any of you. Scarlett? Come on, help me out.”
Scarlett was ensconced in the only chair in the room with both their children in her arms. She’d hardly let them go since the attack. Her eyes were still rimmed in red from crying, but anger simmered deep within, Laird wagered. Emmy would get no support from his wife.
After the losses of the day, she surely wanted blood as much as he.
“Hae ye been able to wrest any information from that infernal machine yet?” Laird asked Claire, who was Googling—whatever that was—the location of the address Jack had given them.
“I’m working on it,” she retorted. “Although a part of me says not to.”
Hugh cast her a stern look. “If ye dinnae, I will. I agree wi’ Laird. We need to finish this once and for all. I wager Connor would concur.”
Connor had been locked out of the hospital and waited outside for the moment he could rejoin them. Once he did, they would do as Hugh said and finish this.
Finish it man to man. On equal footing. There would be no bairn to shield Jameson this time. Fury boiled up in Laird again at the thought of his daughter’s life hanging upon the whim of a madman. Her fears had taken hours to soothe. For that alone, Jameson would suffer.
At Laird’s hands.
“We maun hae a plan in place,” Laird told them. “I will be the one to go after him. If more harm is to be done, I willnae risk yer lives when ye still have a role to play.”
“How can you be so cavalier?” Scarlett roused from her dazed state. “Acting as if your life doesn’t matter anymore? It does. We need you.”
“Nae one else’s life can be put at risk, lass,” he argued. “I told ye before, my hand has already been played. It maun be me.”
“I hae nae role in this,” Rhys objected. “I will go wi’ ye. Dinnae e’en think to argue wi’ me. Ye may be my brother but ye’re nae my master.”
The thought of Rhys being harmed left a sore ache in his heart but Laird didn’t refuse him. His brother’s regret for failing to capture Jameson earlier and for Jack Prescott’s role in all of this was obvious. Whether merited or not, he deserved a role in the final confrontation with Jameson.
“Ye’re no’ the only one whose purpose in this farce has been completed,” Hugh chided him. “Mine is done as well.”
Laird frowned at his descendant in confusion. “What do ye mean?”
“Sorcha carries my bairn, aye?” Hugh told them and amid the varied reactions, Claire’s hands covered her belly protectively. “That is Donell’s endgame in all this. He’s pushed us all around his chessboard to do his bidding. Now he has all he needs from us. From me.”
“How can you be so sure?” Emmy asked.
“He all but told me,” Hugh responded. “’Tis this bairn he’s aimed for all along.”
“W-why?” Claire stuttered. “What does he want with my baby?”
Laird looked back to Hugh. It was a bloody excellent question but Hugh had no satisfactory answer for him.
“I dinnae ken Donell’s future plans, however I ken this is what he wanted all along. What he is ultimately protecting. For what purpose, we may ne’er know. Nevertheless he means to keep our bairn safe and I’ll hold onto that for the time being. We are fortunate Jameson is still unaware Sorcha is wi’ child or he would’ve come for her straightaway.” Hugh’s lips set in a grim line. Dire promise laced his next words. “I would face him wi’oot him using yer bairn as a shield and beat him to a bluidy pulp for all he’s done. All he would do if he had the chance. Bugger it, I want another go at him.”
Laird understood Hugh’s need for revenge. To a man, they all four had a thirst for it.
Claire’s feelings on the matter were clear by her expression and she didn’t hesitate in adding her protest. “You cannot, Hugh. You’ll be using a cane for weeks. Once you’re able to stand on that leg at all.”
She did have a point, Laird knew. Even Hugh appeared disgruntled but resigned by the reminder. A great deal of the thigh muscles and bone had been damaged by the bullet he’d taken to the leg, to say nothing of the injury to his back and side.
All to spare Hermione from any harm. Hugh had stood unwavering, unarmed against Jameson to save her. Having seen the damage a single pistol could do from a distance, Laird had to admire his courage.
And at the same time, condemned Jameson further for his cowardice. Armed against the weaponless. Careful distance kept between himself and any threat. He was no man in Laird’s eyes, but a dog to be put down. Laird touched the gun still hidden at the small of his back.
How daring would Jameson be when his opponent was armed in kind? Laird only wished he could meet his foe on a t
rue battlefield. There would be little satisfaction in a victory gained from a bullet shot from a distance.
But a victory it would be.
“I ken ye yearn for retribution,” Laird consoled Hugh. “We all do. Regrettably, Claire’s logic is sound. We cannae show any disadvantage.”
“You have every disadvantage!” They all turned to Scarlett. She stood full of condemnation, and with the baby in her arms, looked like a righteous Madonna. “You are honorable men facing an unremorseful enemy. He’s a psychopath. He was going to shoot a helpless infant, for crying out loud. Do you think he’d hesitate to shoot each one of you in the back?”
Rhys scowled at her. “Ye think we cannae take him, lass?”
“No, I’m not a hundred percent you can.”
Laird scoffed at her renunciation. “’Twill be three against one, lass. This is no’ another of yer nae-win situations. What did ye call it?”
“The Kobayashi Maru.”
“Aye, ‘tis no’ that.”
“Arguing with your wife is,” she countered. “You’re cockiness is what’s going to get you killed.”
She didn’t understand after all. Laird was tempted to argue the point but knew from years of experience his wife was stubborn in the best-case scenario. When her emotions were involved, she was immovable. However, he was too on this matter. Scarlett hadn’t been able to change his mind about fighting at Flodden even after she’d provided proof of their failure. She wouldn’t be able to change it now when he was convinced of their victory. When honor demanded satisfaction.
Scarlett saw it in his face. Her jaw set in response as she glowered at him. She might not like it but in the end, she would forgive him.
“I’m going to take our daughter back to the nursery,” she announced and left the room with the baby. Hermione tugged on Laird’s hand and he lifted her into his arms.
“She’s right, you know?” Jack had the nerve to speak in Scarlett’s defense. “Jameson’s too unpredictable. Rhys, you cannot do this, mate. Let the police handle it.”
A Laird to Hold Page 23
