Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

DRAVEN

My boy's tears gut me. The fear on his face has the possessive asshole that lives inside me, mentally sharpening my axes. That fucker who left my beautiful boy covered in scars will pay for what he did to Tavish. And to all the others, too. What he's done to innocents is enough to have me ready to end him, but what he did to Tavish has me fighting off a rage that would make a berserker proud.

No one deserves to be beaten and raped. To do it to someone as young and sweet as Tavish makes me sick. The thought o' his sexual initiation being one o' violence makes it all that much worse.

Men who stoop to that level o' depravity need to be eliminated from this planet. Swiftly and brutally. Some might say to turn them into the authorities. Fuck that nonsense. Stringing them up by their testicles and using them as a fucking pinata sounds too good for them.

As my mind riffles through the potential ways to make Samuel pay, Tavish wraps himself around my arm and his forehead drops to rest on my shoulder. The shudder that rumbles through him travels through the arm he has in a death grip to me. It's as if his fear is latching onto me just as he is latching onto me.

"Dinnae fash yerself, lilla du."

With his face pressed into my arm so firmly, I can feel the tremble o' his chin just before he nods. As the droplets that rain down his face to my arm, sobs rack his body, shaking me.

My eyes flick to the rearview mirror and I growl. The arsehole is behind us.

"Mo ghille donn, I need ye to sit up and fasten yer seatbelt."

The tears pooled in his gaze as it catches mine makes them look like a kewpie doll's eyes. Big and round and bright. They dart from mine to the back window, and he gasps.

"We'll be fine, min kara. Just do as I say."

He nods, his throat bouncing as he gulps back the sobs he's doing his best to control. The tear-filled "Yes, Daddy" breaks my heart.

Once he's situated, I press down on the accelerator, speeding up even more. We'll need the luck o' the Irish to keep us from being stopped until I get us outta the fuckin' city.

"Tavish, do ye have a phone on ye?"

"I have my comms unit. I left my phone in my room."

Sighing, I ask, "Can ye make a call on it to someone outside the Society?"

I should probably know this, but I honestly havenae a clue. I carry my phone to text with Tavish and the people from my former life. I ken it's nae to be done, but I dinnae care. Joining the Society was always just a means to an end. I joined to find Maeve and, iffn I'm honest, because Tavish was too tempting to resist.

"I can. I can also make a call from my laptop that's untraceable."

"I need ye to call a friend o' mine. So we can get the fuck out o' the country."

"Where will we go?"

"Home."

"You mean to Scotland? But we can't. We have to leave our former lives behind. We can't go back."

"Och, aye. And how's that working out for ye?"

He sighs and opens his mouth to respond, but I stop him. "Nae, mo ghille. I refuse to let you fall into that bastard's grimy hands again."

"How long? What are we going to tell Everly and the others?"

"As long as it takes for me to catch the bastard and kill him. As for what, we'll tell them…the truth. We're hiding out in Scotland. My family's lands are vast and there are several places I can tuck ye away with nae anyone kenning we're there."

His hands twist together and he nods, but he says nothing. I wait patiently, one eye on the road and the other darting between him and the arsehole behind us. Seeing a turnoff up ahead that will let me put some space between my boy and the pedophile chasing us, I say, "Hang on," as I stomp the accelerator, blowing through a red light.

Car horns blare behind us, but I dinnae stop until we've zipped into the traffic ahead o' us that's merging onto the expressway. A glance in the mirror pulls a smile and a sigh o' relief.

"Samuel's car is stuck at the light and there's cars blocking his path," I tell Tavish. Looking down at him though, I realize I didn't need to because his neck craned over his shoulder, and a smirk is forming on his face.

"Way to go, Daddy! You lost him!"

"Ye shouldnae doubt yer daddy, lilla du."

He pops up and kisses my cheek and says, "Never. My Daddy is the king and kings always know best."

I chuckle along with him as he dissolves into a fit o' giggles. He's more brat than little, but on the rare occasions, when the little peeks out from behind the brat and makes an appearance. Looking at his smiling face makes me miss Simon all the more. He would have loved Tavish. The littles in the clubs Simon and I frequented never appealed to me. I wanted a bratty pain slut, but Simon loved playing with the middles and littles.

I dinnae ken if it's because Tavish's occasional little side keeps Simon alive for me or if he is awakening things in me, but every moment I get with my boy makes me want to keep him with me all the more.

"Do I still need to call someone for you, Daddy?"

"We'll do it in the air. Get us on a plane, lilla du."

"Yes, sir!"

The boy's enthusiasm is infectious and I cannae help but grin down at his head full o' dark curls. He's pulled out his laptop and his fingers are flying over the keys.