She gives me a little salute. “Loud and clear, captain,” she says. I give her a firm little smack to the rear.
“Hey!” Her cheeks flush red.
There’ll be so much more where that came from.
“Be a good girl.”
“Are you doing some sort of role-play thing?”
I snort as I open the door. “There’s absolutely no playing going on.”
I’m dead serious, and that gets her quiet. She winces. I remember her injuries.
“You’ve got pain meds?”
“Some, but you know they make me loopy.”
Is it my imagination, or does her lower lip pout a bit when she says that?
Why does it make me want to hold her to me until she feels a little better? Poor wee lassie.
I can’t let myself grow weak. I can’t let myself forget what she did and why I have to keep her prisoner.
I can’t let myself be tempted by the thought of punishing her.
But I can’t get it out of my mind.
When we enter the house, there’s something going on. Voices are raised in the kitchen, and it takes a few seconds for me to realize there’s smoke billowing into the main living area.
“Bloody hell!” someone yells. Mum’s trotting down the stairs as we come in.
“What’s happening?” she asks.
“No idea, just came in.”
Cairstina comes stumbling out of the kitchen, flapping a dish towel like mad. “So sorry!” she chokes, gasping. “Paisley and I were trying a new recipe—”
“Flambé?” Fran mutters, and Mum snorts with laughter as the fire alarms blare.
The study door opens, and Dad comes out, stumbling. He’s been fucking drinking again. I can see it in his bleary eyes and smell it from here.
“What the bloody hell’s going on?” he thunders. Mum’s eyes grow wide, and she gets a look of panic on her face. I hate that look. I’ll do bloody anything to keep it off her. She’s a strong woman who’s withstood so many things, I hate to see her quake with the fear of what he might do.
“Nothing, Dad,” I say, stepping in front of Cairstina. “The girls burnt something in the kitchen, we’ve got it under control.” I lower my voice. “Go back to the study.”
“Get out of my way.”
I take him firmly by the arm and guide him back to the study.
He snaps. He turns his fury on me and raises his hand and the instant memory of how he treated us as children rises in my memory.
But I’m not a child, and I haven’t cowered in fucking years.
I don’t flinch. I grab his wrist and pull his arm down. I step in front of him, my back blocking the two of us from view. I don’t want my mother to see.
I step into his space, intimidating him. His eyes widen, and he takes a wobbly step back. He stumbles, but I right him, leading him back into the office. I kick the door closed with a resounding bang.
“You don’t raise your hand to me, old man,” I say in his ear. “You don’t raise your hand to fucking anyone anymore, do you understand me?”
I plunk him in a chair.
“Stay right there, I’ll get this sorted.”
“Think you’ll fill those shoes, do you?”
His angry voice seizes me for a moment, but only a fraction of a second before I keep walking to the exit.
Ignore him, I tell myself. I left Fran on the other side of that door, which was fucking stupid. I can’t let her have the chance to escape.
“You’ll never fill those shoes. You and Leith together aren’t half the man Tavish was.”
“Stay in here until we’ve got this place cleared.”
Stay in there forever.
He’s still yelling, still trying to intimidate me, when I shut the door harder than necessary mid-sentence.
He’s clever and wily. He knows exactly how to play this, exactly how to play me.
He knows how to get under my fucking skin.
His words play out in my mind as I go back to the entryway.
Fuck it.
Fran isn’t here. No one is.
I head to the kitchen and spy Mum and Paisley. The door and windows are wide open, and smoke’s quickly leaving the kitchen. Islan’s got a fire extinguisher in hand, and she’s aiming it at the fire.
“Jesus, be careful,” I tell her, just as she pulls the trigger and a jet of flame retardant streams onto the flames.
“I’ve got this,” she says.
“Where’s Fran?”
Islan shrugs. “Don’t know. Wasn’t she with you?”
“Aye.”
Leith comes into the kitchen, followed by Mac and Clyde. “What the hell’s going on here?”
Cairstina sidles up to him, giving him her bright smile. “Simple kitchen mishap.”
He looks sharply at me. “Why is Fran heading out to the garage?”
I shrug, stepping to the door. None of them know a bloody thing. I have to stay calm. “Dinnae. Had a few things in the car. I’ll be back.”
I walk quickly to the door. I don’t want to alarm anyone. I don’t need anyone to see where I’m going, or what I’m doing. But as soon as the door shuts, I take off running.