14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Freya

T rudy is dancing with Maverick when I storm out of the guest house. She catches me in the corner of her eye and makes a quick exchange with her crush, before scurrying after me. "I'm outta here." I tell her.

"Okay, let's go." She says, surprising me. I figured she'd ditch me for a potential lay.

"I don't want to get back on that plane."

"No, we can't, anyway. They're not shuttling anyone until after supper."

"We'll rent a car."

"And what are we going to do? Walk?"

"Aye. You got any better ideas?"

"Well, Freya. The airport is like an hour walk from here. Remember, we landed straight on the ranch."

"Fine. I'll call us a cab."

We do just that and find ourselves home hours later. Trudy doesn't quiz me on what happened with Ethan, and I'm grateful for that. The only regret I have is that I didn't even get to meet little Peg, but I had to get out of there. It was getting too intense. When we arrive home, Trudy stays the night, and when I'm awake in the morning, she's already gone, and she's taken the rental car with her, leaving me a text to say that she'll return it.

As I sit there, on the edge of my bed, my duffel bag is calling to me from the corner of my closet. I haven't used it since my last excursion about two months ago, for a conference, in Virginia. But what's really calling to me is Scotland. I haven't been home in over a year, and it beckons me. Without a second thought, I pack my bag, this time with real stuff, not just for a faithless overnight stay, and I head out the door, with only a one sentence email to my boss, stating that I'll be taking some personal time off. He responds without a question, as I've never taken time off, and my bank of vacation hours is so full, I'd never be able to burn it all off.

I catch a flight, miraculously, and I'm off. While I do have family in Scotland, I prefer to stay at my own little retreat, far away from civilization, in a small town. It's a tiny cottage next to a farm, with only one bedroom, a bathroom, a small kitchenette, and a four-season porch, which is its best feature. This is where I used to come to think, when I needed to think, long before Ethan, when I had nothing, when this house was all I had that was mine. I kept it, knowing that it costs nothing to maintain. Sure, I could have rented it out, but then it wouldn't be mine to stay at, on a whim. And then what would be the point.

As I sit in the house, I realize how filthy it is, and I begin cleaning like a madwoman. Luckily, it's so tiny, I'm finished in a couple of hours, feeling invigorated, but starved. There is literally nothing to eat here, so I hop into my rental car and head into town. I once had a cheap little beater here that I kept only for visits, but I gave it to a young student, who needed it way more than I did. I tell no one where I am. Including Trudy. After the wedding, and everything that's happened recently, I just want to disappear for a while. My work isn't even on my mind. And I've put in so many hours lately, that nothing will suffer if I kick back for a while, and I need to do that.

Being in Scotland after such a long time is refreshing and nostalgic. It brings back memories of my childhood, which was very pleasant, compared to some stories I've heard, including little Peg's. I'm very fortunate. Despite my love life being a shambles, there really isn't any other place in my life where I have room for complaints. I'm successful, I have great friends and family, my boss is the best, and my own company is fruitful. As I'm cruising around the little town, I visit a bakery, where I know the owner.

For an old-fashioned baker, complete with a pot belly stove, the woman always has the latest and greatest technology around. "Mary, how are you?" I ask, when I see the older woman. She's got a flat screen television hanging on the wall, juxtaposing the old-world smells of fresh bread and baked goods, and she's streaming some American show.

"Ah, Freya. How nice to see you, lass." She smiles. The woman has a dish on the side of the building, where she can pick up any channel in the world. As she hugs me, I see the Apple watch on her wrist.

"Mary, you slay me. Look at you. Gosh, I don't even have one of these." I tell her, looking at her watch.

"Oh, my grandson keeps me up to date. Says it's important to know exactly what's going on in the world. You know…" She speaks behind her hand, even though there is nobody else in the store at this late hour. "Terrorists."

"Well, I don't know any personally, but I get it." I say, observing the delicious pastries behind the glass dome.

"I see that McAdams girl married Caleb Harris…just yesterday."

I nod. "I was there, actually."

She's impressed. "You're kidding."

"No. Dougall Harris himself invited me."

"You're kidding." She repeats.

"Not at all. I came here right after the wedding." I tell her, leaving out the part where I basically ditched the event, to hop on a plane.

"Oh, and I heard about that poor woman and the wee bairn. You know the kidnapper got extradited back here to Scotland." She's matter-of-fact, nodding, pleased with herself for knowing.

"I heard he was going to be, but I didn't know it actually happened."

"Aye. I heard he put up a real fuss. He and Gretchen knew each other."

"Aye. He was one of her sponsors."

"That's what I heard. Damn shame. Thinking you can trust someone around your bairn, and then he goes and pulls something like that."

"Money. It's the route of all evil, Mary."

"Aye. That's why I run this little shop. It earns me just enough money to keep my house up and give me a decent retirement. My son keeps saying he's going to look after me, but there's no need."

The bakery has a small apartment above, where Mary lives. Her husband died decades ago in a fire, the life insurance money he left her is how she opened the bakery. Sometimes she says that his death was a blessing in disguise, since she'd never have the money to open the business otherwise.

"You and I are such similar creatures, Mary."

"Aye, I bought your program, lass! I use it every day!"

My mouth opens wide as I smile at her. "Mary, you didn't have to go and buy it. I would have gladly given you a copy."

She waves. "I would never take charity, Freya."

"It's not charity. God, how long have I known you for?"

"Since you were a wee bairn yourself, lass."

"Exactly. Any financial advice you need, I'll give you for free."

"None needed, lass. I've got everything I need."

The monitor on the wall suddenly flashes some local news. Mary turns the volume up using the remote velcroed to the wall next to it. The segment is talking about the man who was extradited back to Scotland, and the fact that he's walking free. "Holy shit." I say, shocked. "How the fuck did he manage that?" I say, disgusted, and not worried about using foul language around Mary. I know for a fact that she's got the mouth of a trucker when the mood strikes her.

"Damn bastard."

See?

"I betcha it was one of them corrupted cops that let him loose for the right price. These authorities, they're all the same, Freya."

"Looks like he was better off in North Carolina, where he was in a small jail. They evidently did a better job of babysitting him."

"You should warn Caleb, lass."

"Oh, I'm sure he knows by now, Mary. They've got security so tight, and they're keeping tabs on everything and everybody that comes and goes or comes within yards of the bairn."

Her mouth twists into a lopsided smile, while her eyes warm. "And Ethan? How is the lad doing?"

"Oh, Mary, it's so complicated." I tell her nervously. She's the only one besides Trudy that I told about him. "We could never be."

Her eyes sparkle. "Some day, lass, you'll see. The right man will come along and sweep you up off your feet. My James did that for me."

"Well, it sure wasn't Ethan." I chuckle mirthlessly.

She purses her lips into a smile. "The lord works in strange ways, Freya. You'll see."

"I know, Mary." I smile back.

She waves. "Okay, what are you having, lass? I've got this fresh bread and some turnovers you'll love."

"Sure. I'll take some." I grab my wallet out of my purse.

"Your money's no good here, lass. This is on the house."

"Mary, how do you expect to earn a living when you give your goods away for free?"

"Same as you, lass. Same as you." She winks, stuffing baked goods into a bag for me. "How long are you staying in town?"

"I'm not sure."

She hands me the bag. "You be sure and come for another visit tomorrow. I'll have those sweet rolls that are your favorite ready."

"I'll be here." I grin. Her rolls are the best.

As I head back to the cottage, I can't help but feel a weight already lifted off my shoulders. Ethan couldn't be further from my mind as I pull up to the cottage, admiring its charm. I'm ashamed that I haven't come around in so long. It's just too beautiful to ignore, and I find myself making a personal pact to come back at least twice a year for a visit. Where there is no wifi connection, no cable, and water strictly from a well, it's a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of city living in North Carolina. As much as I love it out there, sometimes it's important to come back to your roots, to feel grounded again.

Nathan Mackenzie

"Higgins. You son of a bitch." I chuckle, seeing my old friend, waiting for me inside a car, as I walk from an abandoned building, where he instructed me to go. "I don't know how the fuck you pulled that shit off, but I thank you, my brother."

He shrugs modestly. "It's no trouble. It's what I do best."

I sit in the passenger's side and grin at him. "So, what's next? A fake I.D. for me, and head back to the states to try again? That shit was way too easy, man."

"Na, it's too hot over there, plus, there's something way better right here in Scotland."

I look at him slyly, he returns the look, as we turn onto the highway. "Here in Scotland?"

"Aye." He chuckles. "Believe it or not, that bitch that Ethan Harris is hot for is right here, staying in some piddly little cottage. It would take nothing to nab her and set her up for ransom."

"No shit?" I practically squeal, incredulous. "God, this is way too easy."

"Tell me about it. The kid's off the plans for now, but this bitch is even better. Ethan will fall all over himself trying to save her, and now we can up the ante, since they fucked us over with the kid."

"So, what's the plan, man? I'm fucking stoked over this now." I say, rubbing my hands together in anticipation.

"Easy. We nab her when she least expects it, and I'll use my burner phone to let him know about it. Easy peasy. And what's even better, is we don't have to worry about the bitch fucking us over with the wire, as that Caleb asshole tried to do with her last time. If she's the one being nabbed, she can't help."

"Genius. Pure genius." I lick my lips. "What about the other guys?"

He frowns, shaking his head. "They're useless as fuck, man. We don't need them. This operation will be so easy, just you and me will suffice."

"Shit. You ain't kidding. I can't believe they'd let her out of their sight. What idiots."

"I was hoping her bitch friend would come along for the ride, but our little Freya decided to come here solo. Moron."

"At least we've got a backup plan if this falls apart."

He gives me a look. "What, are you stupid? This is so easy a Kindergartener could pull it off. We don't need a backup plan. Once Ethan gets wind that his little bitch is in trouble, he'll come running after her, and he'll give us what he wants."

"Okay. Let's do this."

Ethan

"Would you quit fucking pouting, you idiot." Maverick whines, as we sit at the boardroom table, waiting for the rest of the clan to show up, for a meeting. "God, it's depressing just looking at you."

"Fuck you." I sneer.

"Look, there's plenty more pussy where she came from."

"Like I said, fuckoff. I don't want to talk about it."

"Like hell you don't." He scoffs. "You just don't want to admit that you fucked up with Freya."

"And how the hell would you know, asshole? And what is it of your business, anyway?"

"Trudy told me."

"You mean she took your dick out of her mouth long enough to tell you?" I volley back, hoping that hit a nerve, but he's unscathed, pissing me off further.

"Dude, it's not like that. We're just friends."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious. I don't want to go down that road with her."

"Why not? Are you suddenly fucking gay, or is she a leper or something?" I bark, irritated.

"No, I just…I don't know if I like her in that way yet. Sure, she's cute as hell, but I don't want some chick drooling all over me. Man, the last time I had to beat the lass away with a fucking baseball bat."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious, man. I couldn't get her to leave me alone. I was thinking about getting a fucking restraining order. I'm playing it safe this time. And that was like a year ago. I've got fucking PTSD from that lass."

"You are such an asshole." I say, not believing a word.

He ignores my insult. "And what about you, huh? God, I thought you fucked things up bad before when I found out about you and Freya. What made her storm out of there like the place was on fire? What did you say to her?"

"None of your fucking business." I say through gritted teeth.

"Suit yourself. I'm just trying to help." He shrugs.

"Sure, you are."

"I'm serious, man. I can put in a good word for you through Trudy."

My gaze darts to his. My eyes are slit. "Don't do me any fucking favors, asshole. You'll make it worse."

He chuckles. "I don't see how that's possible. Considering how fast she blew out of that wedding, before they even served dinner. Nice going." He pokes my shoulder, and I bolt out of my chair, pushing him against the back wall, shoving my hand across his throat.

That's when da walks in with Caleb, Malcolm, Declan and mama.

"Alright, boys, break it up." Da says simply. "Ethan, word is that Freya's back in Scotland. I want you to take a flight out there. Take Mel with you."

I let go of Maverick as my eyes widen. "What? What are you talking about?"

Maverick adjusts his tie and sits down, while my eyes stay trained on da. He sighs, looking none-too-pleased, an expression I haven't seen on him in weeks. "Nathan Mackenzie is out. He's gone back to Scotland. And I know for a fact that the lass hasn't got security with her. I don't want that asshole getting hold of her. She's vulnerable and the worst part is she doesn't know it."

"Wait…what the fuck?" I practically shriek, so many questions come to mind. "What the hell happened to Mackenzie being extradited? And why the hell is Freya in Scotland? When did this happen?"

"We just got word about Mackenzie. Slater and Clyde are on it, since wherever Mackenzie lands, that's likely where we'll find Higgins and the other ones responsible for taking Peg."

Caleb pipes up. "We need to get these guys behind bars as quickly as possible. And find out how Mackenzie was freed. Someone's on the inside or they paid some lads dearly."

"Either way, we need eyes on Freya, or we're set to do another shakedown." Da adds.

"But why would they go after Freya?" I ask. "And, again, why is she in Scotland?"

Everyone exchanges a look.

"What? Am I missing something here?"

Da clasps his hands together contemplatively. "Ethan, these lads will go after anyone they see as valuable to the family. Look at the Ford family. They're always a target. Same as us. It's something that we're going to have to get used to, unfortunately."

Suddenly I'm angry and impatient, and my heart is pumping hard, as realization sets in that Freya could be in danger, and she's all the way in fucking Scotland. "How quickly can I get there?"

Da's face turns up into a small smile. "The helicopter is ready downstairs. I had them prepare the jet at the airport as well. Mel and Clyde are waiting for you. Go, son. And fast, if I were you."

I don't have to be told twice. I bolt out of my chair and head for the door, knowing that I have clothes in my office and if my assistant is worth her salt, she will already have a bag ready. Not letting me down, I see the bag on my desk. As I grab it, all I can think about is Freya, and how she won't have the slightest clue what to do if these assholes come after her. Knowing this, I start to check off in my mind, what needs to be done. This won't be the first time our family has come under attack, and it won't be the last, either.

Da finds me at the doorway as I'm about to head for the helicopter. He hands me a firearm, and I tuck it in the back of my pants.

"Don't be afraid to use it, son." He comments, referring to the training that all of us Harris kids and family have. Despite our exhaustive supply of security, we all have weapons training, something da insisted on when we were younger. It was a sort of pastime when we were kids, and then later as teens, and I sometimes even find myself at the shooting range, blowing off steam. Caleb refuses to have a gun now, since he's got Peg, and a bairn on the way, but I still go on a semi-regular basis. "Nothing you can do will get you into hot water, Ethan."

I nod. "Yes, da."

And as I sit inside the helicopter with our men, I realize something very important, and understand why my brothers had exchanged that strange glance with each other in the boardroom.

...because they already recognized what I just figured out.

...that I care about Freya more than I care to admit.