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Inexplicable.
After he’d told her about the final attempt on her life right before Blake died (a goon had broken into that house in Frinton-on-Sea, but Caelan had been there and scuppered them), Flora said to him, “Tell me why you really couldn’t let me die. Why you had to let me live.”
He stared into her eyes and said honestly, “I already knew that one day, you’d be ma wife.”
She looked relieved and happy. “And so why did you leave me in the arms of a potential monster?” It was spoken so slickly, designed to trip him up. Like she had spoken in the beginning; needling him into confessions.
He’d asked for that, though. Then… and now.
“Sometimes even I dinna ken how this mind works.” He pointed at his own head. “Maybe I thought… if ye could make me into a civilised creature… ye could him, too.”
“That’s really what you thought?” He shrugged. “I need to know more, about Eric.”
“Aye, tonight’s bedtime story,” he said.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Today we could go swimming? Spend a day at the beach.”
“If you feel up for it.”
“I do,” she said.
He was glad she was recovering quickly, but it also meant the questions were coming thicker and faster.
She’d been close then to discovering the real reason why Caelan had let it go on between her and Eric. That morning when he first saw them in bed together, yeah, it had seemed like his world was about to end.
Then she’d given herself away—still in love with him—but just a bit in love with Eric, too.
More interesting than that was the fact that Eric seemed to have fallen for Flora.
It was obvious. The way the man looked at his wife.
How his eyes glazed over whenever she was around; the sweaty palms he’d try to dry on his jeans; the slight colour in his cheeks whenever she spoke.
In those moments, Caelan had figured out exactly how he was going to break Eric, once and for all.
Chapter Forty-Two
~ Caelan – Past ~
Eric was one of the cleverest new recruits he’d ever come across. Clever, but deceitful.
He’d asked Eric to relay an instruction to one of the others during a training exercise near Ben Nevis—the message was never relayed, but Eric had claimed it was and the recipient sloppy.
Eric didn’t know Caelan had known the message would never be relayed. Eric had already been trying to make his colleagues look bad. Caelan only wanted a chance to show Eric up.
Not explaining what he knew, Caelan told Eric to get down and perform 200 push-ups.
Eric didn’t argue. He barely broke a sweat performing the task.
Caelan had occasion to wonder how Eric even got in. Aside from high academic scores and great physical discipline, he was a loose cannon, for sure. He ran rings around his teammates and Caelan was in despair. At this point in time, Caelan was an instructor having suffered PTSD following a stint in Iraq—and Eric was sure making it look attractive, the prospect of getting back out into the field again.
The worst instance of Eric’s refusal to break was during an exercise down at Loch Lomond. They had to work in pairs to get across a narrow channel of water that was raging, freezing and treacherous.
Eric got himself and his teammate, Will across by sheer force of will. Eric had practically dragged Will by the scruff of his neck alongside himself, so roughly, he hadn’t noticed Will taking in water.
Caelan arrived just as Eric finished performing CPR on Will—who was alive, but barely.
“You’ve done enough!” Caelan screamed, tossing Eric off Will and nearly ripping Eric’s clothes right off his back in the process. Prior to that day, Caelan had never displayed his physical strength, but Eric looked deeply shocked.
