Chapter 42

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

TAVISH

Walking through the mansion that's been my home since the Order blew up, I'm torn. I never thought a place could feel like home, but these rooms in the basement of Societas Exspiravit are home to me. But so is the medieval castle I shared with Draven while running from Samuel.

If I'm being honest, as much as I thought I missed this space and the Society, it has nothing on how I felt when we boarded the plane in Scotland. It is my homeland. My birthright, and the lush green countrysides and the craggy mountains, speak to my soul. They called to me. That's my home.

Draven is my home.

My mind speaks to me as if we're two separate entities and he's right. Or maybe it's right? I don't know and it doesn't matter. Either way, what was said speaks more truth than anyone has ever spoken.

Draven is my home. This place didn't feel like home until he came into my life. This big, broad, blond, larger-than-life Highlander descended from the Vikings is my home and wherever he is, is where I'm most at home. It's where I want to be.

Always .

Now that the threat of Samuel is gone, I'm free to live my life, but the Order is still out there. There are still people like them out there and I cannot rest until I've helped rid the world of them. All of them. Not just the ones who hurt me and Maeve, but every single last one of them must be dealt with. The fortunes they've used to hide their dark deeds and amassed at the expense of their victims must be appropriated and put to right their wrongs.

Draven and I came here so he could ask for permission to walk away from the Order. I know he's hoping Everly will release him to raise Dillon in Scotland away from all this. She will. I know it in my heart of hearts.

He's also hoping I'll return with him. And that was my plan. At least, it was until I walked off the elevator and into my rooms. Looking over my space here, I know I can't leave. I can't walk away from this. It's my purpose in life.

I have to keep working. I have to ensure the world is safe for Dillon and all the other children out there. I won't stop until they're stopped. I know that will never happen. This is a fight I'll fight for the rest of my life. I can only hope someone will come along to continue it when I'm dead and gone.

Trailing my fingers over the surfaces of the room, I smile forlornly at the memories Draven and I made in this room. The chuckles and kisses. The spankings. The sex. I close my eyes, letting all of them wash over me. I'm more thankful than ever that I demanded we reconnect after my shower the other night.

I hadn't known it then, but if we were going to have a last time together, we couldn't have had a better one.

My heart crumbles at the decision I know I must make. As much as I want to be with Draven, I can't give up my mission. I have to stay the course. I don't know how I'm going to get him to understand. I barely understand it myself.

What I do understand is that I will have to make him hate me to get him to leave me here without him. But I refuse to let Dillon have the life I had, even in small measures. The Order took his mother from him and from Draven and I will not let this life rob him of anything else.

That means, when Draven returns from whatever the errand is he wanted to do on his own, I will tell him about Simon.

"It's time I told the truth."

"The truth about what, lilla du?"

I swivel, spinning on my heels so fast I make myself dizzy and nearly topple over.

"Hey. How long have you been there?" I ask as I grab onto the bedroom doorframe to keep myself upright.

He chuckles, walking toward me. The man is sex on a stick, and I want to climb him like a tree. Well, not with him carrying Dillon, and with what I'm about to do. Never again.

"Nae long. I actually just got here."

"Are you going to tell me what your errand was about?" I ask again.

"Nae, anything nefarious. I met with Bridget, my neighbor, and asked her to be Dillon's nanny and teach me how nae to kill the lad and to clean out my house. That is all."

My mouth drops open in an "O" for a moment before actually uttering the word.

"What secret are ye keeping, Tavish, that needs to be divulged?"

"I've been keeping something from you since the beginning. One you'll hate me for once you find out the truth."

"What is it, lad? Because I cannae think o' anything that would or could change the way I feel about ye."

"I watched them beat Simon."

I pause, looking at him, trying to digest what he said. He swallows, then asks, "What do ye mean, ye watched them beat him?"

"I was there."

He walks past me into the bedroom, laying the baby down before facing me. "Ye were there when they killed him?"

I nod, since my throat is close to closing up completely.

"What happened? How did ye get here?"

"How do you think? The same way I got anywhere back then. Samuel drugged me, and put me on a plane, where I spent the entire flight strung up, suspended by my wrists while he fucked and whipped me. Or burned me. It all depended on what sick, evil, depraved thing he came up with."

"And Simon."

"Once we were in Scotland, not that I really knew where we were at the time since they drugged me. Samuel loaded us, and those with us, into a car, and we went directly to the estate. On the way, Samuel gave me a laptop, mine. He took it from my room. He told me to send a message to this person…"

"To Simon, ye mean?"

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I nod.

"Well, go on. Tell me how ye and Samuel robbed me o' my husband."

Tears spring to my eyes, and I say, "He had me send a message saying I had information about who killed your family. Samuel told me to ask him to meet me in private. Then, when he agreed, Samuel said to tell him I'd pick him up and take him there. I did as I was told."

"And…"

Pain wreaths his face, and I don't want to tell him anymore, but I know he will not settle for anything less than the whole of it.

"Tell me," he growls.

"Samuel put me in the front seat of the car with our driver, and we picked Simon up. Samuel had the others who came over with us head to a warehouse. The… umm… the same one you blew up, and they beat him. When I tried to get them to stop, Samuel hit me so hard, I blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was in the car. I came to as we were pulling away from the castle."

Draven stalks out of the bedroom, his fist punching the fridge he bought for my room so I would eat something other than junk.

I close the door to the bedroom, hoping Dillon doesn't wake up while his uncle is in this mood. Draven tears through the room, destroying everything in his path. My computer equipment takes the blunt of the damage. When everything that's not nailed down has been upended and ripped to shreds, he stops.

His hands land on his hips, his head tilted back onto his shoulders as he gasps, trying to catch his breath. He looks at me and says, "How could ye not tell me this? Ye ken what Simon meant to me."

"At first, I wanted you to help me. I knew I couldn't kill Samuel myself, and I thought if you knew, you'd tell me to go fuck myself. Then, as I got to know you, I didn't want to hurt you. When we got together, I didn't want it to end because you and our dynamic, our sexual relationship, were everything I'd ever wanted."

He stares at me. No blinking, not even an eye twitch. His eyes locked on mine without wavering. It goes on so long I start to think he's gone catatonic. But then he says, "I ken it's nae yer fault. I'm nae angry at ye for what happened to Simon. Simon took matters into his own hands. He kenned I wouldnae want him to do it, because I'd been asking him to stop searching for leads, but he was determined to get to the bottom o' it. And he took risks."

I nod, looking around at the devastation surrounding us.

He does the same. "Fuck. I'm sorry, lilla du."

"It's okay. I understand."

"It isnae okay. But thank ye. Since we're baring our souls, I need ye to know…"

"You killed my dad."

He stops dead. His eyes are as round as saucers. His mouth too. "What… umm… how?"

"Did I know?"

He nods.

"Draven, Owen Black had every room in the Order wired for sound and video. I stumbled across it after my dad's funeral. Cato hid the footage, replacing it with a snowy loop, but I found it. He hoped that with my dad being dead, he could free me from under the Order's control, but then I got dragged to that lawyer's office, and we realized I would never escape unless we took down the Order."

"I'm so sorry, Tavish. I should've taken ye with me that night. Ye walked past me as I sneaked through the house. I remember wondering why there was a child here. Never did I believe I was leaving a child to be used and abused the way ye were."

"I know. I don't blame you. You are not at fault at all for what happened to me. We, our lives, the hell we've both lived through, and the people we've lost are my father's fault."

"Yes, they are, and I'm nae o' the belief that we should pass the sins o' the father onto the son. I dinnae blame ye, either. I ken I already said it, but it needs repeating. You may have witnessed Simon being beaten, but ye werenae anymore to blame than a hammer. We wouldnae blame the hammer for breaking a window it hit. Ye'd blame the person holding the hammer."

He pulls me to him, crushing me against his chest. I lap the warmth and love up because I know he's getting ready to suggest we leave, and I will not be going with him.

Sure enough, he pulls back and says, "Let's get Dillon and get out o' here. I want us back in Scotland as soon as possible."

"I'm not going."