Chapter 43

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

DRAVEN

Shock zaps through me like a lightning bolt. "What do ye mean, yer not going?" I ask.

He disnae respond. Instead, he reaches up and kisses me, but I cannae bring myself to respond.

When he pulls away, I say, "Yer aff yer heid iffn ye think I'm leaving ye here."

His face stills, all emotion fades away, and then he says, "My place is here with Societas Exspiravit. Yours is in Scotland raising Dillon. I'm not fit to be a role model for a child. I have no clue what to do with him, and he needs you."

"So do ye, and there's space for ye both in my life. It's nae a one or the other situation, mo ghille donn."

"Yes, it is, because Dillon must come first and I'm greedy. I don't want to play second fiddle."

Now the lad's just making shit up and I tell him so. "So, which is it? Ye're nae good enough or ye're greedy?"

He licks his lips, his eyes darting around my face so fast I cannae make eye contact with him—a clear sign he's lying.

"Both. Besides, Everly will release you, but I've no hope of getting out of the Society. I'm a founder. How would that look?"

Unable to contain myself, I bellow, "I dinnae give a fuck how it looks! Ye're my boy! And ye're going with me!"

"No, I'm not."

He turns and disappears into the bedroom. I can hear him murmuring to Dillon and then he appears in the doorway. He moves toward me, passing the bairn to me.

"I'm staying. You're going. That's the way of things. Take Dillon home. Give him the life he deserves."

"Tav…"

"Please, go." He turns and walks into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. The lock snicks into place in the silence.

Everly and her men are sitting together at the table when I walk in, carrying my sister's baby. Dillon's her spitting image.

"What's this?" Everly asks when she looks up at me.

"My nephew," I say simply.

"I don't understand."

"I dinnae ken if ye know all o' my history?'

She shakes her head, and I continue, "My family died when I was sixteen years old; my father, mother, sister, and my paternal grandparents. They all died within days o' one another. My parents had nae chosen an alternative guardian after my maternal grandfather died. So, they sent me to an orphanage. That's where I met my husband, Simon. We grew close, fell in love, and got married. We had a good life. A happy life. Until someone delivered a package of papers. I hadnae idea who sent it. It turned out to be my father's solicitor who sent it, having overlooked giving it to me when I came into my inheritance."

"What was in the papers?" Damon asks.

"The truth. That's what I told Simon when he asked the same question. My father's parents lived in Sweden, and my grandfather, Carl, discovered information concerning some missing people. People taken by the Order o' Death. He wrote my father and included copies o' all the evidence he found. He managed to mail the papers, but before he could go to the authorities, there was a gas explosion that took out a city block. Supposedly, it was a gas leak."

Rayth scoffs. "Not likely. That was Graeme's preferred method of eliminating people."

I nod at the man.

"When I received the papers, several years later, I learned the truth behind my parents', sister's, and grandparents' deaths. I vowed to avenge their deaths. Simon and I worked together to uncover the truth and help me find vengeance. It cost me Simon, but I learned Graeme Buchanan was behind their deaths. All but Simon's. That was Samuel."

"Graeme wasn't trusted with anything of any importance by the time he came to the States, from what I've heard. He fucked up any job given to him," Killian said.

"Yes. I learned that later. Owen ordered him to kill every member of the Helvig family, but he dinnae do his research because he left me alive. And when he killed my parents, he dinnae kill my sister. He took her. And then he sold her. I learned all this when I killed Graeme Buchanan. I sneaked into the Order and killed him and another man. It was that night I learned my sister was still alive. Since then I learned Graeme sold her to pay a debt he owed to Owen Black."

She swears under her breath. "Owen Black could die a thousand times and it would never be enough to atone for his sins."

Her men huff in agreement with me when I do it.

"After they murdered my husband, I got sloppy, especially after I killed Graeme. I said I dinnae want to be caught, but iffn I'm honest, I dinnae really care. I had nothing to live for other than finding Maeve. That's how Tavish found me. He traced my footprints online. At least, I think that's how he worded it when we spoke about it. I still dinnae ken half o' what the fuck he's talking about when he rambles about his computers and the internet."

"Neither do the rest of us," Damon mutters and the others nod. A smile tugs at my face. At least I'm nae alone.

"Anyway, Tavish brought me here so that I would have the protection of Societas Exspiravit while he helped me search for Maeve." I glance down at the bairn in my arms.

He's a braw laddie, to be sure. I'm nae ashamed to say I've cried at the sight o' him several times. He's cried, too. So hard he wore himself out and fell asleep. The doctor who checked Tavish assured me Dillon's a big brute o' a bairn, and healthy as he can be, but he's nae even a year old. He'll never ken his mama, and I cannae tell him about her.

We're a mess, he and I. Me even more so now that Tavish refuses to return home with us.

"So, the two of you are all that's left of your family." Everly's voice pulls my gaze from the wee lad.

"Aye."

She stares at me, and at the tear-stained face of the little one clinging to me. My outburst downstairs had woken the lad, and he cried for sometime while I tried to get Tavish to open the bedroom door and talk to me.

Everly's chest and shoulders rise with a deep sigh.

"Take your nephew home, Draven Helvig. Give him a good life filled with love and happiness and fun. Just remember, you are and will always be a Ghost. The Society is your family. As crazy and fucked up as we are, we are here for you, should you ever have need of us, even if you do have private military contractor friends to call."

I nod, turning away from the five of them and walk toward the door, but turn back and ask, "How did ye ken?"

"I can't give away all my secrets," she says.

I smile and walk away. Every step makes me feel like my heart is being ripped to shreds.

"Viking!"

I stop and look back to see Damon walking toward me. "What of Tavish?" he asks.

"What o' him?" I ask. My voice is crisp with snark in the hope I've deterred Damon's meddling.

"Will we be searching for a new tech boy?"

I clench my jaw. The muscles pop and jump. I'm too pissed off to deal with Damon at the moment. "I dinnae ken. Will ye?"

Spinning on my heel, I stride out of the room, nae bothering to shut the door on my way out. Fuck them all. As I make my way through the mansion, I hear the elevator come to life. Pausing, my eyes fall closed, and I sigh. At the sound of the door opening, my eyes open, and I take a step forward, away from my heart's greatest desire and toward duty and responsibility.

"Daddy?"

I swallow, gulping against the pain o' walking away from Tavish, from my boy. Tavish refuses to come with me, and as much as I want to be with Tavish, as much as I ken he needs me, I cannae be both here and in Scotland. So, as much as Tavish needs me, as much as I need him, Maeve's bairn needs me more. Tavish is right. Dillon needs to be in Scotland.

"Och, aye, mo ghille donn?" I ask, heaving a sigh, and trying to hold back the tears threatening.

"Are you leaving?" he asks.

"I am. Ye told me to go." I remind him.

His eyes well, and as usual, the sight of his tears breaks my heart. "I want to go with you."

"Then get your shit and get in the car."

"I can't leave."

"Then why are we having this conversation again?"

Once was enough.

"Because you think I don't want to go with you, and I want you to know I do."

I walk toward him. The hand not holding my nephew cups Tavish's cheek. "I dinnae think that. I ken ye want to go with me. I do. I just dinnae ken why ye willnae."

"I'm needed here, and since we eliminated Samuel, there's nothing forcing me to stay away. I swore if I ever got away from him and the Order, I'd do everything in my power to bring them down and everyone like them."

"And I get that, Tavish, I do. What ye and the Society do is important. Necessary. But I still dinnae ken why ye arenae going with me? Ye worked from the study at the castle the whole time ye were there."

"I just can't. I need to be here."

I nod, tipping his chin up toward mine. "Ye dinnae need to be. Ye want to be. And as much as I hate it, I will respect yer wishes. But ye need to ken this… I am yers, Tavish. I always will be. There will always be a place for ye by my side. In my bed. As my boy. There will be nae anyone else."

I dip down to kiss him, careful to nae jostle the baby. The soft, sweet touch of his lips against mine is heaven on earth. One I will soon be without. Most likely forever. So I savor it, falling into him and the way he makes me feel.

How does he do it? How can he make me feel strong and weak all at once?

I dinnae ken the answer, but he makes me feel like a king and a beggar all at the same time. Our tongues twist and turn together until he's moaning, and I'm hard as a rock. I want to shove him against the wall, bury myself inside him until neither o' us gives a fuck iffn we have an audience or how many marks we've left on the other. And my boy gives as good as he gets. I've lost count of the number of times I've had to doctor scratches and bite marks he's left on me after doctoring the marks I've left on him.

Forgetting everything but him, I step toward him, pushing him to back up. When he comes to a stop, my knee slides between his thighs and I press into him. The wall behind him presses into my knee painfully. Tavish wrenches his mouth from mine, crying out "Daddy" as he gasps for breath.

A squawk sounds between us, and Tavish's eyes round just as I feel mine do the same. We look down in unison, and I realize I lost all sense when I kissed him. Squashed between us, Dillon looks up at me with Maeve's beautiful eyes. The eyes she inherited from our mother.

"Fuck," I growl.

I step away from Tavish, and glance at the clock that stands in the hall. Noticing the time, I say one last time, "Come with me, min kara. I want you by my side."

"That's where I want to be. It's just not where I can be."

His chin trembles, and the tears that have huddled in his eyes, threatening to fall, finally do. I ken his answer before he even opens his mouth as soft sobs rumble through his chest, screwing his face up as he struggles against what he believes he must do, and what he actually wants to do.

Unable to listen to him refuse me again, I brush the tears from his face. I catalog his features as I try my best to commit his face to memory.

The clock chimes, and my time's up. I must leave now. Brushing my lips against his, I tell him once more what I've known since before pulling him from the van during that ill- planned mission. Probably, iffn I'm honest with myself, since he straddled my lap all those months ago.

"I love ye, Tavish. Remember that, lilla du. When ye're ready, I'll be waiting."