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“Go to hell, fuckers,” he growled, right before white foam appeared.
Then he convulsed. And died.
All Caelan could do was shake his head.
So, the guns for hire all knew what they’d be dealing with in Caelan, then.
And were coming prepared.
He and Hamish growled at the same time.
“Ugh, I was looking forward to cutting off his bits and pieces and feeding him them,” said Hamish, seething.
“This isna anywhere close to being over. That bitch is gonna keep coming.”
Hamish raised his brow. “Who is this woman?”
“The less ye ken, the better, chief.”
His friend’s eyes darkened and he kicked the corpse in the room. “This piece o’ shite killed too many innocent people to die this easy.”
“Then next time we’ll search their gob before we string ’em up.”
Drake, in his heyday, was a marine with an almost unrivalled kill count of enemy insurgents. Eventually it was discovered that his kill count also included people who threatened his superiority, including someone Hamish and Caelan grew up with—someone who one day stood to surpass Drake.
There was a dark side to the military like any profession, and plenty of grey areas, but Drake’s guilt was obvious and yet to save the navy disgrace, he’d been stripped of his medals, given a reduced pension and kicked out into the cold. The type of cold that meant he might easily be lured by the scabs of society into doing their bidding. Like Sherry.
“I love ye, mate. But whateverthisis, it ain’t pretty.”
“I agree. But someone, somewhere kens the truth about ma uncle. And whatever it takes, whatever the hell it takes, pal. I’m gonna do it.”
Caelan’s determination was palpable, so much so, Hamish said, “Good luck to whoever did it, then.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
~ Flora ~
It was so strange to have heard Caelan’s side of the story. About the first time he ever saw me. So strange and sort of romantic, how he’d already decided to try and save the stepdaughter of his wicked mother rather than give into any of her sick demands. Even when he didn’t know me yet.
“D’ye no wanna hear more?” he asked, as I scooted closer and wrapped my arms around him.
“No. Later.”
I moved in and kissed him. He dragged my body into his and we lost ourselves in the moment. He’d wanted me from the first moment the same as I’d wanted him in Barcelona, which was the first time we ever properly spoke.
Desire and lust had never been the problem.
It was everything else.
He pulled away for a breath and gazed into my eyes. Leaning in again, when he gave me a satin-soft kiss, my belly lurched and I felt it again. That thing we’d lost for a while but had never truly gone away. That love-bond. A real love-bond. That thing which was terrifying and had made me fear him along the way, too. It meant so much more than sex.
He saw in my eyes how affected I was and smirked with male pride. “Aye, you’re mine, Flora. I kent it that day in Venice. Thought, there’s a bright star for my night sky. A lovely, luscious body to curl into my hard bones. Someone for me to protect and love.”
He pulled me closer again and licked into my mouth, groaning as I pulled him over me and let him dominate and devour, his tongue making my belly fizz with joy. I raked my nails down his bare back and lifted my t-shirt off just so I could feel his skin against mine.
We were like teenagers again, hungry and awkward, urgent and at times clumsy in our need. Caelan sighed and shuddered when he came in his pants. I bit my lip and sniggered.
“Now we really are teenagers again!” I cried.
