Chapter 21

Tavish triesto convince me to stay with him, but I refuse. I put him to bed, reminding him that sleep is important, and then I leave without so much as a kiss on his forehead.

As I make my way back to the house I rent, my thoughts jumble together, flipping and flopping like a fish out o' water. Simon, Maeve, and my parents swirl together with Graeme and Tavish Buchanan until I'm sick to my stomach.

As much as I want the boy to be mine in every way, I ken I cannae allow it. When I left to track down the man who bought Maeve, my feelings for Tavish and what we'd done consumed me. So twisted was my thinking I could barely put one foot in front o' the other as I walked away. I nearly returned to the boy so I could lose myself in his submission.

I couldnae allow myself to forget her, which means I have to deny Tavish and myself what we both want.

That's why I put the stipulation on our arrangement. I must protect myself. Falling for that boy would be too easy. He calls to me like Simon had when I first laid eyes on him. I wasnae able to resist Simon all those years ago. Nae even when our desires dinnae align the way either o' us would've liked.

Walking that path again isnae gonna happen. I have to resist Tavish. I've lost everything more than once. Losing someone else I love would ruin me.

I thought for certain Tavish would tell me to kiss his arse when I put the stipulation in place. He dinnae, though. Nae. He nodded his head and called me Daddy. The sound o' that word crossing his full pink lips lit my soul up like a bonfire on a dark winter's night.

But the devastation and resignation that accompanied the word that put me in a chokehold doused the fire, putting it out as if it had never been there. Those same feelings rushed through me when I said it.

Karma's a fucking bitch!

Tavish is an amazing boy. The things we did together in bed that night, the way he responded to me, watching him hit subspace while my cock moved in him. It is everything I ever wanted. I want to drown in him. I want to care for him, fuck him, and yes, I want to love him, but I know I cannae.

I sneak into the house, dodging Bridget by parking several streets away, and entering the house through the back gate. I've avoided the meddlesome woman since I retrieved the key to the safe deposit box from her. With a bottle o' whisky in hand, I settle behind the desk.

Opening the Society's server, I pour through the documents I confiscated on my last job before I loosed my axes on the human scum who bought Maeve all those years ago. I found him in bed with a child who couldnae have been more than thirteen or fourteen. Luckily, I arrived before he could defile the wee lass.

Tavish and I went through these papers already, but I want to go through them again to make sure I dinnae miss anything. Especially since some o' the people I discovered being held were verra young. So young, I'm afraid they wouldnae be o' much help in locating their families. I turn the bottle o' whisky up to my lips at the thought o' what those poor bairns will need to overcome. I only hope they can get past it.

As the hours pass, and the darkness fades into dawn, I rub the bleariness from my eyes. I've stared at the information in front o' me all night. There's still nae anything to point me to who bought Maeve.

Sighing in defeat, I push myself from the chair and head toward the shower, remembering to grab the Society's communication device at the last second.

In the bathroom, I toss it on the counter before stripping and climbing into the shower. The blast o' cold water pushes away the fatigue and whisky. Somewhat.

Tavish said he would keep digging, but at what point should I give up the search? The last mention o' Maeve in that cockstain's ledgers is from years ago. Before Simon died. I've done my research into human trafficking. The chance Maeve is still alive is slim.

Stepping out o' the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and grab another to dry my hair. I move into the bedroom to slip into bed when a buzzing sound in the bathroom stops me. I turn back and grab the blasted device that's dancing on the counter.

Swiping the lock screen, the security measures do their thing—they're all over the top, but I'm not gonna argue them—and Tavish's name flashes on the screen.

SECURE: T

Link

I open the link and skim through the information. It's not a connection to Maeve, but it is someone who needs handling. I look forlornly at my bed for a moment before getting dressed and heading out.

The job is a quick one. The asshole drug dealer and part-time pimp with a love for killing his customers and workers. I make quick work o' him and his associates, snapping the proof needed to fulfill the contract.

Most o' the work I do for the Society is hunting down and eliminating old Order members, but sometimes I get sent on a job like this one. I ken the need to cut off the little snakes' heads. Iffn we dinnae, then when we kill off the bigger snakes, that gives way for the little ones to step into their shoes.

When I first kneeled before Everly, I told Tavish I wasnae a murderer. I still dinnae believe I am. Maybe I'm splitting hairs, maybe I'm fooling myself, but I feel I'm doing good in the world even if I'm breaking the rules o' man and God. A song I heard recently

Before I realize it, I'm pacing the hall outside Tavish's rooms at headquarters. I cannae believe I'm here. Again. After every job, I tell myself not to come, but my body keeps pulling me toward the boy repeatedly. I cannae stay away from him.

My feet stop in front o' the door for the second or third time. The magnet that is Tavish Buchanan tugs at me, begging me to open the door and claim what I desire most.

My head falls forward, resting against the metal that separates me from him. I fight with myself to step away, and just as I win the battle, I straighten up, and the door opens.

"You didn't have to knock," he says.

His gorgeous brown eyes shine up at me through the dark frames on his face. The happy, expectant look fades away the longer I stand there staring at him. He is the eyes and ears o' this place. I havenae a doubt he ken I was out here all along.

"Are you coming in?" he asks. The hopeful tone puts my heart in a vice, twisting it as if to force it and me into submission.

When I don't answer, he huffs and turns, walking toward his computer monitors. "If you aren't coming in, shut the door. And don't forget to send me the proof of completion of the job you just finished."

He sits down in the chair and swivels it so his back is to me. I watch as he brings the system back to life, pecking away at the keyboard so fast that iffn I dinnae ken better, I'd think he was typing gibberish. To me, it is gibberish, but I ken to him it's just another language. One foreign to most o' us.

Sighing in frustration at my inability to stay away from him, I step into the room and close the door behind me.