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"Ready for bed?" I ask. "I'm jeeked for sure."
"Mm, yeah. Sleep sounds good."
I carry her into the bedroom and gently lay her down on the mattress. By the time I've laid down beside her, she has already fallen asleep. I cradle her to me, and soon, I slip into slumber too.
What do I dream of? Rebecca, of course. No other woman has ever invaded my dreams in this way, and I dinnae mind at all.
I spend the rest of the weekend with her. But on Sunday night, after making love to Rebecca for an hour, I need to drive home and change clothes for work. I kiss her goodbye at the door. When I try to walk away, the magnetic pull of her presence draws me back, and I need to kiss her again. And again. And again. Finally, I force myself to leave the building.
As I'm walking to my truck in the garage, the slithering shape of a shadow catches my eye peripherally.
I halt and pretend to be fiddling with my keys.
The shadow slithers closer, coming up behind me.
One more step and then...
I whirl around and seize the man's shirt, hauling him closer. Shock immobilizes me for a split second, but then I regain my composure. Despite that, I can't erase the snarl in my voice when I speak to him. "What are you doing here? How did you escape from prison?"
"Didn't need to escape," the British scunner says. "I was released three weeks ago. Paid my debt to society."
"Just released? And the first thing you did was track me down. I'm flattered that you care so much."
The scunner huffs. "I'm not here to beg you to be my mate."
"Must be on holiday, then. Why dinnae ye go search for the Loch Ness Monster? Nessie must be hungry, and you look like a perfect snack."
"Shut your bloody mouth." He shakes my hands off and backs away a few paces. "This is your warning. When you see me again, I'll tell you what your punishment will be."
"My punishment? You were the traitor, not me."
He stabs a finger in the air toward me. "You are going to pay, Thane. Ratting on me is not something I can ever forgive." He peers around me to stare at my truck. "You've parked in a visitor slot. Who were you here to see? A woman? Ah, yes, I'm sure that's it. You always thought you were God's gift to women."
I scoff. "If you think you can goad me into confirming your assumption, then you don't know me as well as you believe. Go home, wherever that is, and forget about your pathetic wee vendetta. Walk away now. This is your last chance before I batter you to a bloody pulp."
He shuffles past me, keeping a wide gap between us. "I'll go, for now. But I will be back. Mark my words."
The scunner sprints out of the garage, disappearing down the sidewalk.
I pull out my mobile and dial a number I swore I would never call again.
"Hello, Thane, darling. What calamity has befallen you? It must be something truly cataclysmic if you're ringing me."
The lass's British accent prickles my nerves, but not because I dislike her. No, it's because that part of my life ended long ago---or so I believed. "Aye, I have a problem. Holden De Boer just accosted me in a parking garage in Fort William."
"Oh, that is unfortunate. But alas, we can no longer offer you assistance in such matters. I suggest you ring the police."
She hangs up on me.
Aye, Holden De Boer is my problem. The ghosts of my past have come back to haunt me at last.
Chapter Eighteen
Rebecca
I sit in my office chair with my legs tucked under me, spinning my chair round and round and round. The fantastic sounds of Duran Duran dazzle my senses through my earbuds. I can't stop myself from humming along. And then singing along. And finally, jumping out of my chair to dance along with "Black Moonlight."
My weekend with Thane energized me more than anything else could. We had fun. We had hot sex. We fed each other and made out and finished off that bottle of Collaidh Sgeul-Rùin Black Label. No, I have not mastered the pronunciation of that phrase yet. I'd love for Thane to teach me that Gaelic phrase and more, especially the dirty ones.
