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“I saidpick it up,” Parks ground out. “Or you can watch your pretty lady die first.”
Pasting a look of fear on his face, Marcus crouched to do Parks’ bidding. Bending over to shield his right hand, he grasped the locket with his left and slid the sgian dubh from its sheath.
Taking a deep breath, he shot up with all the strength he possessed against Parks’ gun hand, knocking it to the side. The sound of the gun firing rang in his ears as the acrid smell of spent gunpowder filled the room.
“Tait!” Marcus yelled as he and Parks wrestled for control. They toppled to the floor, straining, gouging, rolling twice before Marcus finally straddled him, pinning Parks’ arms to the ground wi’ his knees. But ’twas Marcus’ hand on Parks’ throat and the point of the sgian dubh pressed to the corner of his eye that finally subdued him.
“Move,please move,” Marcus whispered. “Move a little and I’ll cut ye a little,” he ground out. “Move a lot and I’ll take yer bloody eye!” He pressed the knife tighter, creating a tiny well in Parks’ skin.
His only response was a faint whimper.
“Tait! Answer me!” Chills peppered Marcus’ skin as heat flashed up his neck. He couldnae lose her. No’ now.
“I’m here,” she cried. “I’m here, Marcus. I’m okay.”
He could hear her shifting around and a chair sliding across the floor. “I’m here,” she said, finally moving where he could see her without taking his attention from Parks.
“Are ye hurt?” He glanced up the long length of her bare legs before turning back to his prisoner.
“No,” she admitted, sounding embarrassed. “When the gun went off, I fell back and got tangled in the length of your tartan.”
“Och!” he grinned. “Bring it here. We’ll make good use o’ it.”
He shifted slightly, resettling his weight on Parks. “Take out his shoelaces,” Marcus said when she returned. “Bind his ankles and hands—tight—while I help him understand how badly I want tae fillet him wi’ this knife.”
“I’ll pay you,” Parks winced against the knife’s point. “A lot. I can set you up for life.”
“Now what?” Tait said, tying the last knot around Parks’ hands.
“Spread the tartan out on the floor wi’ the length goin’ away from him. Were goin’ tae roll him up in a pretty package for the authorities.”
“No. Please!” Parks pleaded. “I can’t stand tight places.”
“Dinnae fash,” Marcus snarled. “They’ll give ye a roomy prison cell. Several feet, at least.”
“Which authorities do you mean?” Tait asked worriedly as Parks continued to beg. “We’re still not sure who we can trust.”
Marcus rolled his captive, struggling futilely against his bindings, onto the tartan. “What if we get them all together? All the…what do ye call them? The levels?”
“State, local and federal?” Tait offered. “Is that what you mean?”
“Aye. All in one room. That way, even if there’s some corrupt ones in the group, their hands will be tied as tightly as Parks’ are right now. And we’ll find a way to turn that chip over to them, anonymously. Through Evan’s partners, maybe?”
He glanced at her, determined that at some point he’d look at her and not see fear in her eyes. “And if we’re verra lucky, mayhap they can even make sure the woman named Tait Keller remains missin’ from that terrible wreck.”
Turning back to his captive, Marcus gave Parks a stony look. “I kenye’llstay busy turnin’ on a few more friends in thisorganizationye speak of,like the coward ye are. On the other hand,” he shrugged, “ye could end up just like Giannetti. Think on that while ye’re waitin’ in yer cell. And if ye’re thinkin’ o’ rattin’ Tait’s name out to any of yer companions, know that I’ll find ye—even if I have tae join ye in prison—and carve my initials intae yer liver. Ye’ve my solemn oath on that.”
“You’re turning your back on a fortune. Why can’t you see that?” Parks whined, tossing his shoulders from side to side as Marcus tucked the sgian dubh back inside his boot.
Tucking the end of the plaid over Parks' body, Marcus continued to roll him, whining and begging, until he resembled a big red, green, blue and yellow plaid cigar. Naught but his head and feet stuck out.
“Trussed and bundled,” Marcus said, admiring his work.
Helping Tait to her feet he gathered her in his arms and held her so tightly he feared he’d crush her, but he couldnae help it. He could have lost her. “Thank the Saints ye’re safe,” he whispered, needing to feel her heart beating next to his.
They both sighed as sirens sounded in the distance. “I ken someone heard the shot and called the police,” Marcus murmured.
“Thankfully,” Tait added. “Now if we can just get the rest of the agencies together, maybe all this can come to an end.”
