Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TAVISH

Once we're out of the enormous, plant-filled atrium, Samuel hurries us through the house to the back door. It's like he knows exactly where he's going and how to get there. How he knows, I don't know. At the glass doors, Samuel pauses, throwing them open and dragging me down the steps into the gardens.

"Daddy!" I scream for Draven.

Where is he?

Did he really leave me?

Every step I take feels like a knife to the gut and heart. I scream my head off, yelling for Draven, begging for someone to help me. In the distance, I can see a boat coming toward the shore. There's a couple of people in it. Dread and fear flood my system at the sight, if it's even possible to be any more scared than I already am.

If Samuel gets me to that boat, my chance of escape is gone. And along with it, the likelihood I'll ever set foot in Scotland again, that I'll ever set eyes on Draven again, is next to zero. Less than.

"Draven! Mack!" I scream for them both this time.

We've been sending the staff home, but Mack, along with some others, live on the property. If Draven has left me to fend for myself, maybe they'll help.

"Help! Someone, help! Mack!"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Samuel demands, jerking on my arm.

His order falls on deaf ears—I refuse to go meekly, quietly. I drag my feet every step of the way. Despite that, he gets me through the gardens and down the rocky outcroppings of the shore.

"Tavish!" Draven's screams reach my ears from behind me, and I turn.

He didn't leave!

Daddy's racing down from the house after us, but he's so far away. I catch another glance at the boat Samuel's aiming for. It's even closer, even though I'm fighting him every step of the way. I curse my diminutive stature. If I wasn't such a fucking shrimp, maybe I could protect myself better, maybe I could escape.

Looking back at Draven, I accept the fact he won't reach me in time. I let my eyes drift over him, absorbing every inch of his big, hulking frame. Samuel gives me another shake, yanking me toward the sand. I turn back toward Draven, tripping Samuel and me in the process. The boat is so close, and Draven is still so far away.

"Daddy!" I scream for Draven again, my voice hoarse with the force I put behind it.

"Help me get the little cockstain in the boat before he raises the dead," Samuel yells to the two people with the boat.

The guy standing on the shore at the bow of the boat rushes toward us. He grabs my other arm in a firm grip. He's not nearly as rough as Samuel, but between the two of them, they're nearly carrying me. The tips of my shoes drag through the sand.

This is it. I'm done for. There's no fucking way I'm getting away from them both.

My chin trembles and sobs bubble up. I turn my head back toward Draven. I have to have one last look at him.

"You okay, boss?" Samuel's minion asks.

Water floods my shoes as it laps at my feet, then my ankles. The minion helps Samuel toss me over the black rubber sides of the boat. My head, ribs, and limbs smack into who knows what as I tumble onto the floor. Pain. It's always pain and more pain where Samuel is involved,

"I'll be fine. The little bastard took a swing at me with a gardening tool," Samuel replies as the minion helps him climb onboard.

Yeah, I did.

"Tavish, I will find ye!" I pop my head up over the side of the boat, staring at my daddy coming to a stop at the water's edge. His knees give out and he falls to the sand. You can see the defeat in his stance. I can't imagine how bad this is going to fuck with him.

First his parents and sister.

Then his grandparents.

Then Simon.

Now me.

He must think he's destined to be alone. It's no wonder he was so standoffish about having a relationship with me, and not just a kink dynamic.

Minion number one pushes the boat off the sand, jumping in as minion number two gets us underway. The boat spins around, causing me to lose sight of Draven as it heads out to sea. I turn around, crawling to the other side of the boat so I can see Daddy. I refuse to take my eyes off him until I can no longer see him.

The words I love you climb the back of my throat, forcing their way to the tip of my tongue. I want nothing more than to yell them at him. Especially since I may never see the man again, but I can't—no, I refuse to do that to him. I refuse to give him something he may never get to enjoy.

If I did it, it wouldn't be for Daddy. It would be for me. It would be something that comforted me while it robbed Draven of any comfort whatsoever. Those words at this moment would only drive home to Daddy that people who love him will always be stolen from him, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his life. Telling him I love him would bring peace to my soul, especially if my time on this planet is shorter than I wish. But my peace is not what's important. Draven is the one who will need peace, because I signed my death certificate by attacking Samuel the way I did. There is no way on this planet he will let me live to tell the tale. Most definitely not now. Not with him knowing what I did to the Order. What I did to Owen and the others.

"Turn around, boy. Now."

Ignoring him, I shiver in the cold as I continue to stare out over the waves at where Draven was last seen. And while I'm not the praying type, having left that all behind me when my mother died, I close my eyes and lift every hope and dream I can think of up to whatever higher power is out there listening.

My neck twists in pain as a blow lands across my cheek. Blood spurts in my mouth as I flip backward over the side of the boat. The water rushes past us as the boat bounces along the water. The fucking frigid water. My head hangs over the edge, the spray from the waves crashing against the hull drenching me.

Fuck, that's cold.

I'm snatched back up into the boat just as I feel myself falling into the water by a hand gripping the curls on the top of my head.

"You heard the boss! Turn your ass around."

I spit out the blood that fills my mouth for the second time tonight. My eyes crane to see who has hold of me.

Minion One.

Now that he's up close and personal, the asshole looks familiar, but I can't place him. It's dark and the hoodie he has on hides somewhat his features.

Lucky bastard.

He shoves me away from him. I huddle as low in the boat's bottom as I can. The air whipping around me was cold enough before I nearly took a swim in the drink. Now that I'm wet, the air has turned the shivers to tremors, and it's not long until I'm quaking.

"Want me to look at that gash, boss?"

Fucking suck up.

This guy is just as much of a suckass as all the others Samuel's kept around over the years. They're hangers on, and Samuel's too stupid to realize it.

"Fuck off. You're not a doctor, you idiot," Samuel growls at the guy, snatching the first aid kit the guy pulled out from somewhere.

I turn away from them both, closing my eyes to feign sleep. I try to think out where they could take me, but I'm at a loss. This boat isn't big enough to take out into the open water. First, there's no protection from the elements, and second, it's a tiny boat in a big ass ocean.

Let's not think about all the shit out there that could fucking eat this boat and all of us in one bite, huh?

Just as the bouncing and bobbing lulls me to sleep, we slow to almost nothing. I slit my eyes open and bite my tongue.

Well, this just went from bad to worse.