If Ever I Fall: Book 3 of The Six Series

by Loveday, Sonya

  We finished up dinner with me telling her about some of the places I saw while I was away. She hummed and tsked along with my adventures. We carried the conversation over to the kitchen sink as we stood side by side, washing and putting away the dishes. And when we were finished, she offered to make me chamomile tea to help me sleep. I thanked her, but I refused to put anything else on top of dinner.

  She’d hugged me tight as I made my excuses for bed. “Airen, I know you’re not telling me everything from your time away. And I’m no asking you to, but I do hope that you’ve come home to stay. I’ve missed ye, terribly.”

  I wrapped my arms around her, putting my head on her shoulder like I’d done as a child. Comforted by her presence and the steady beat of her heart. Aunt Brenda had been my steadfastness, my haven to gravitate to when everything went topsy-turvy. It had only made sense that she would be the one I returned home to.

  Mum had always been adrift in her own world. Her grief after my father’s death had been the separating crack that made her become an island of sorts. I’d clung to Aunt Brenda even more for the stable ground she always offered.

  “I’ve missed ye too, Aunt Brenda, and I’m back. I willna be going away again anytime soon,” I answered her with complete honesty. I’d nowhere to go and no inclination to leave. I couldn’t say if that would change in the future, but I couldn’t say it wouldn’t either.

  Aunt Brenda released me with a swat to my bum. “Off to bed with ye then. I’ll see ye in the morning.”

  I climbed the stairs, feeling the beginnings of a stomachache brewing. Pressing my hand against it, I willed it to settle, hoping it would before I lay down. I’d had a nap, but that wasn’t near enough sleep.

  Remembering my nap also recalled Aiden and the way he’d scooped me up in his arms and carried me to Aunt Brenda’s car as if I’d weighed no more than half a stone. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and I barely made it to the upstairs bathroom before the contents of my stomach rushed up the back of my throat.

  Wiping my face with a cool washcloth, I leaned against the countertop, shaking like a leaf on a tree against the whipping wind of an oncoming storm.

  I didn’t dare try to push back from the counter and stand on my own until the shaking subsided. My body, however, revolted against me. I needed to get to a flat surface and lay down before I passed out in the bathroom, but there was no way I’d make it on my own just a few feet across the hallway to my bed.

  Giving up, I clutched the doorknob and twisted it open as I ended up in a heap on the floor, sucking deep breaths against the braided rug in front of the sink.

  With arms buckling under my weight, I finally made it out of the bathroom on my hands and knees, then all the way to my bed. It took a few tries, in between gasped breaths, to keep from getting sick again, but finally, I managed to pull myself up onto my bed.

  Once there, I rolled over onto my stomach and let the comfort of the feather-tick mattress, and the hovering darkness, claim me.

  I WOKE SLOWLY, AND THEN all at once. Where was I? Panic crawled its way along my skin, fear skittering along the top of it, until my eyes lighted on the window across the room.

  Daylight streamed in through the pink curtains trimmed with cream-colored lace. Immediately, I knew where I was.

  Aunt Brenda’s.

  I was in my room at Aunt Brenda’s, because I’d come home. Pushing myself up, I grabbed the blankets and pulled them up against my face. The slight hint of lavender in the sheets soothed me, so I took another deep sniff, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them, glad to be home.

  My hair fell forward, tickling my cheek and stealing the comfortable moment. Straightening up, I ran my fingers through the thick mass, wincing as the snarls entwined themselves with my fingers.

  I probably looked a bit manky. Still in the clothes I wore the night before and everything. Flipping the covers back, I realized that at some point during the night, I’d managed to at least get underneath them.

  There was a coolness to the air that spoke of fall and made me shiver. Winter’s chill would not be far behind it.

  I sighed, knowing I needed to get up. I promised Mum I’d be round to see her in the morning. The thought of leaving the house made me want to scurry back under the covers and pull them over my head. Mum wouldn’t be put off though, and if she had to route me out from bed at Aunt Brenda’s to see me, there would be hell to pay. That didn’t mean I couldn’t take a little time for myself to eat breakfast and take a shower. And really, I should get out of yesterday’s clothes first. With my decision made, I crossed the room and pulled open the drawer that held my fuzzy pants and long-sleeved shirts, thankful Aunt Brenda hadn’t packed my stuff away when I left Scotland.

  The wood creaked as it slid toward me. On top of my favorite pair of lounge pants was a note scrawled in Aunt Brenda’s handwriting. The paper crinkled in my hand as I lifted it out to read it.

  “I’ll send Aiden round to take you to your mums whenever yer ready,” I read aloud.

  I crumpled the paper up in my fist and let it fall to the floor. “Not bloody likely, but nice try, Auntie.”

  THE DOORBELL PEALED AS SOON as I cut off the shower and stepped out onto the mat in front of the tub. It startled me, sending my heart to knock against my ribs. Never in all the years I’d been in Aunt Brenda’s house had I ever heard the doorbell.

  I grabbed the robe Aunt Brenda left on the back of the door and put it on over my wet skin. Grimacing at the feel of the material sticking to me, I tied the sash as the doorbell went off again.

  Who in the hell? I thought, wrenching the bathroom door open. Aiden. It had to be him. Aunt Brenda had to have sent him, knowing I wasn’t going to call when I was ready. She knew me all too well.

  I grumbled my way down the stairs about busybody aunts and impatient Americans. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, I briefly made sure the robe covered me properly.

  Aiden wasn’t there when I opened the door, but my aunt’s car was. The driver’s side door was wide open. Coming from the interior was the annoying dinging sound that announced the keys had been left in the ignition.

  Crossing the porch, I made it to the steps when Aiden flew around the front of the house as a chunk of wood from the railing exploded exactly where his head had been. He dove, rolled, and then shot off the ground, half running on both hands and feet.

  “What the hell is going on?” I demanded as he slid to a stop beside the car on the driver’s side, keeping to a crouch.

  “Get in the house,” he yelled, ducking at the sound of another shot being fired. The passenger window shattered, sending a glittery explosion of glass inside the car. Aiden cursed under his breath. In one swift move, he pulled a gun from somewhere under his shirt, lifted it, took aim at where the window had been, fired, and ducked back down.

  Alarm shot through me. A squeak escaped before I could think of covering my mouth to stop it. I couldn’t move, making an excellent target for whoever was firing shots in our direction.

  “Airen, get in the fucking house!” Aiden bellowed at me as another round was fired.

  The anger in his voice made my feet twitch on the step. I tried. I really tried to move, but my body didn’t want to listen to what my brain was screaming at me to do.

  White dots danced in front of me, and my lungs couldn’t hold enough air. It was then my body went into motion, allowing my feet to propel me to safety.

  I had no idea where the gunman was firing from. Somehow, Aiden did, or at least, I thought he did, because he lifted the gun again, slightly altering the direction of the barrel, and fired another round.

  I sank to my knees inside the open door, right at the threshold, and wrapped my arms around myself, shivering as I clutched my fingers against the terrycloth robe.

  My eyes locked on Aiden’s crouched body. His only protection was Aunt Brenda’s car.

  His head whipped around with eyes zeroing in on mine as we both heard the sound of a police car siren of
f in the distance. The gun disappeared back into wherever he’d pulled it from, and then he reached inside the car, grabbing the keys from the ignition.

  He was up the stairs and inside the house before I could blink. Scooping me off the floor, he kicked the door shut, turned the lock, and took the stairs two at time. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths as he lowered me to the floor.

  As I sat in the hallway with my back to the wall, he said, “Stay here,” and ran back down the stairs.

  Something like a laugh rushed up my throat. All I could think was, Where the bloody hell would I go with my legs feeling something similar to Jell-O left out in the sun on a hot day?

  The worst part was that it wasn’t funny. Not one bit. Not only had someone shot at Aiden, but Aiden had shot back. Aiden had a gun.

  A gun I’d just watched him fire with the ease of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Why then, did I not want to make a run for it? I knew nothing about him.

  Fear skittered down my spine. I should be terrified of Aiden and running to the phone in Aunt Brenda’s room to call the authorities. Bracing my hands against the floor to push myself up, I could hear the soft shift of Aiden moving around below. I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit that he made his movements known, or he wasn’t worried about making noise.

  The hushed tread of his shoes hit the third step with a squeak as he came back up the stairs, and then I could see the top of his head, followed by the rest of him.

  What I hadn’t expected was for him to sit down beside me on the floor. Did someone with evil intentions act like they were your friend? Was Aiden just pretending to be a good person?

  Chewing my lip, I pondered that thought. He’d really seemed concerned for my safety when he’d told me to get back inside the house.

  Unaware of my muddled thoughts, he relaxed, bumping his head softly against the wall. With a sigh of defeat, he said, “Whoever he was, he got away.”

  I clutched the robe until my knuckles ached. “Who? Who got away?”

  His head lolled to the side as he squinted at me. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

  I could feel my cheeks warming as anger bubbled up inside me. How dare he think I’d know who the hell had decided to come over and shoot the place up. “Just what are you insinuating, Aiden?”

  I got my knees under me, braced my hand against the wall, and sent up a silent prayer that my legs would hold me, because I damn sure wasn’t going to sit beside Aiden while he interrogated me about what happened. If anything, he owed me an explanation as to why he had a gun.

  His brows pulled together, scowling as he looked up at me. “I’m not insinuating anything, woman. I’m just wondering if you saw the guy who rang your doorbell?”

  It was my turn to scowl. “You mean it wasn’t you?”

  In one fluid motion, he was on his feet, his hand tucked under my elbow steadying me just as my knees wobbled, threatening to drop me back on my ass beside him. “Why don’t you get dressed? I have a feeling the cops will be here soon, and I’m sure you don’t want to be questioned in your bathrobe.”

  I pulled against his hold, but he refused to release me. “What do ye mean manhandling me like ye have a right to? I know nothing about you, Aiden. Nothing. And if ye think I’ll just be allowing you to dish out orders and follow them, yer wrong.”

  His tight grip loosened, but he didn’t let go as he stared deep into my eyes. “You’re right, you don’t know me. I was just trying to help. I’m sorry.”

  Wavering on my feet, I watched him closely as I asked, “Why do you have a gun?”

  “Lots of people have guns. Second amendment and all…” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

  “Second amendment?” I scowled at him, not understanding his flippant comment.

  He sighed, running a hand over his face. “The right to bear arms, US Constitution… sorry,” he said, giving me a half smile, he continued, “I carry my gun with me for safety reasons.”

  “Safety reasons? Yer in Scotland, for Christ sake. What the hell is so dangerous about Scotland?” I all but shouted at him.

  His eyes widened. “Seriously? You can ask me that after witnessing what happened just a few minutes ago?”

  Clenching my fists, I scowled at him. My body shook from head to toe, but I wasn’t backing down as I said, “Of course I’m askin’ ye that! People don’t show up at another person’s house with a loaded gun for no reason.”

  Noticing my reaction, Aiden took a small step forward, brushing my hair back from my cheek. “I’m sorry if me having a gun scared you. That wasn’t my intention at all, but I’m not sorry I have it with me. Especially since someone just shot at me.”

  I jerked from the contact of his finger brushing the shell of my ear. And I couldn’t say if it was from fear or his nearness.

  His words and body language played with my head as he said the one thing that all but melted me. “I’d never hurt you, Airen. If you believe anything, please believe that.”

  Moving back a step, I used the wall to support me. Aiden, with his disheveled blond hair, and broody looks made me question my own sanity, because after everything I’d been through, the last thing I ever wanted to do was trust someone again.

  People were liars. They cheated you out of the things you worked hard for and left you. Abandoned you when you needed them the most, but yet, there he was, asking me to put my trust in him.

  Could it be that easy to forgive and forget? Surely not. I shook my head against his words, saying, “Yer asking me to trust you?”

  The blue of his eyes deepened as he gathered himself to answer. “I am. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I should tell ye to leave. That’s what I should do,” I said, turning around to head to my room.

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asked, sliding his hand under my elbow.

  “Yes… no… I don’t know,” I said, giving my confusion over to him.

  “Well, when you decide, let me know,” he answered back with something close to humor in his voice.

  He stayed with me until he’d walked me across my bedroom and made me sit on the bed.

  Watching me intently, his eyes squinted as if trying to get inside my head to sift through my thoughts. I looked away, clasping my hands in my lap and pressing them against my legs, angry that they’d failed me when my life had depended on it.

  When I opened my eyes, he was in front of me, arms crossed, waiting. “What?” I asked, wondering why he was staring at me.

  “Did you run into any trouble while you were away from home?” he asked.

  I snorted. Trouble. You could say that since I was robbed by my own roommate, who was supposed to be my friend. “Nothing coming home couldn’t fix.”

  Aiden shifted, nodding his head slightly, and then asked, “So the guy who was just here… he could have been a guy you met at some point?”

  Unbelievable! “I dinna care very much for the way yer nosing into my past, but I can tell ye, Aiden, that whoever came here and shot at ye was no ex-boyfriend of mine!”

  I stood, brushing past him, not caring that my elbow accidentally jabbed out, catching him in the arm. Anger fueled me to move, which was better than sitting on my bed, fretting over something I couldn’t change.

  To think that Aiden wanted to question me about what had happened when the target had clearly been him. Hadn’t it? Surely, no one had fired at me. Who the hell would want to shoot at me anyway?

  My uncle’s face flashed in my mind. It wouldn’t have been him, but his final words of, “I’ll be seeing you,” made me fumble for the neck of my robe as my hand caught the dresser to steady myself.

  Why had he sought me out before? Fear skittered down my spine. Could he have been keeping tabs on me the whole time? That didn’t make sense though. I’d been on my own for some time. If it had been him, why wait until I came home to Scotland… to Aunt Brenda’s?

  As unrealistic as it was, I had a hard time shaking the idea that it cou
ld have been him. Call it a sixth sense, a warning of some kind, but he’d been in my head ever since I boarded the train to come home. If it was in fact him, it would be as if I’d called him to me.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Aiden pace across the floor. His back was to me as he muttered and grumbled to himself. With one hand clasped tight against his neck and the other shoved deep into the front pocket of his jeans, he turned, giving me a profiled view of his chest.

  The action pulled his shirt tight over the bulge there. I took an involuntary step back, my eyes locked on the spot where I knew the gun was.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his hand from his neck, turning to fully face me. His shirt straightened out, with no telltale sign of what was underneath.

  I shook my head no, wondering how in the hell I’d managed to get myself tied to not just one gunman, but possibly two. “You’re asking me all these questions, but I have one for you.”

  His shoulders lifted slightly as his head bobbed in response. “Can’t say as I blame you… What is it?”

  I felt my brows pull together as I hugged my arms around me. Giving him my back, I grabbed a well-worn pair of jeans out of the dresser.

  I wanted an honest answer from Aiden, but I had the sinking feeling he wouldn’t tell me. Even if I asked nicely. And I wasn’t up for arguing with him dressed in nothing more than a robe. Grabbing the rest of my clothes, I turned back to where he stood and said, “I’m going to change first.”

  His eyebrow kicked up as his gaze went from my face all the way down to my feet.

  I left the room before he could see the blush that flooded my cheeks. Damn him.

  AS SOON AS AIREN CROSSED the hall and closed the bathroom door behind her, I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Grant.

  Robert de Fleur is in Scotland, and I may have just shot him.

  Grant would take my cryptic message and run with it, checking around to see if anyone had gone to seek medical attention from a bullet wound.