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In which there is nothing like a car chase and gunfire to bring a family together.

Arabella…

“Arabella, it is so lovely to meet ye.” Isla takes my hand between hers, smiling warmly.

“Thank you for having me, even under such unusual circumstances,” I try to return her smile, but it’s mighty awkward. Hey, Ma, I’m the one who Drunk Married your son, nice to meet ye!

Logan’s mother is stunning , with long black hair and green eyes that are nearly translucent. Between her and his father Dougal, I can see how all their offspring won the genetic lottery.

“Aye, there’s nothing like a car chase and gunfire to bring the family together,” Kai said dryly. From my perch in the kitchen, I can see Dougal on the phone in his office, pacing back and forth in front of the open door, barking instructions every couple of minutes.

“You’ll get used to it.” Kenna is the only daughter and she’s got a grin that spells trouble, a lot like Logan’s. “Luna, Kai’s wife will be here any moment and we will carry ye away from these men and gorge ourselves on sweets and gossip. Ye look like you’re a white wine drinker?”

I’m touched to notice that she takes care, like her mother did, to speak to me directly so I could read their lips. This is something to be grateful for, because there is a lot of ambient noise, what with all the shouting and threats of retribution.

My phone vibrates aggressively in my pocket and Kenna winks as I pull it out. “That will be Logan and he is most likely beside himself that ye were put in danger. I’ll leave ye to it.” She hands me the glass of wine she just poured and takes off. I gulp a good third of it before hitting the Facetime button.

“Are ye hurt? Love, did they harm ye?”

Ach, Logan’s furious. I’ve not seen him quite like this, eyes narrowed and mouth tight.

“I’m fine, husband. I promise. There might have been some shooting, but I was safe in one of your family’s many armored cars and we got here, just fine. Are ye all right? I dinnae want ye to have a stroke.”

“This cartel is about to meet a swift and violent end to all their European holdings,” he snarls. “Going after the family is strictly forbidden.”

“But… what about the organ traffickers? They did that.”

“That was before I married ye,” he says. “Ye still need personal protection, but threats like these are never supposed to touch family. There’s a strict code, even in the underworld.”

“I hear your Uncle Lachlan blew one of their warehouses to smithereens? Ye can see the smoke from all over the city.”

While Dougal seems upset by his brother’s actions, Logan shrugs it off. “Quickest way to get the bastard’s attention. But now that they’ve broken the code about family, they’ll be hard-pressed to find anyone willing to align with them.”

“It was expedient, then?” I’m trying to look innocent, but he glares at me.

“I see you’ve spoken with my father.”

“Well, no. But there’s been a lot of shouting,” I admit.

“I’m on my way back home,” he says, “I’ll be landing in an hour or so. I know getting thrown into meeting the entire family like this is a wee bit much. Are ye doing okay, then?”

“Everyone has been very kind. Dinnae ye worry about me. Just come home safe, aye?”

Ach, here comes the devilish pirate grin. “I have plans for you, Bella.” Setting his phone down on his seat tray, he signs, Oral sex, for starters. Then when you’re nice and wet, I’m gonna spit on your arse and put my cock in there. He spreads his fingers and thumbs apart, loosely making a circle and then pointing with his index finger.

“Ye just stop that right now!” I’m laughing uncontrollably and praying no one’s seeing this over my shoulder. “What is wrong with ye?”

“Nothing that you bouncing on my cock won’t cure, my pretty wife.”

“Ye must stop it!” I turn my back to the room, whispering into the phone. “You’re really wanting me all turned on at your parents’ house? What’s next, in the confession box at church, you twisted thing?”

Logan actually looks intrigued.

“I’m ending this call before I can never look your parents in the eye again,” I warn.

“If ye must. Please tell Da that I’m sending him the schematics he asked for. They should be downloaded within five minutes.”

“All right.” I’m still watching Logan’s pirate grin. I should be hanging up. But he’s so pretty…

“Are ye sure ye dinnae want more talk about what I’m gonna do to ye when I get home, sweet Bella?”

“Goodbye!” I blurt, face beet red. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph this man is going to kill me.

Cautiously knocking on Dougal’s office door, I jump a little when it swings open. There’s several more of the MacTavishes packed in there, and they’re all holding weapons.

“Ah, Logan wanted me to relay a message? He uh… he said the schematics you’re wanting should be downloading now?” I’m frozen on the threshold, not wanting to startle the men in a room full of guns.

“You’re Logan’s lass, grand to meet ye! I’m Uncle Lachlan.” The man casually puts the two grenades he’s holding in his suit pocket and strides over to me with a grin. “Welcome to the clan.” Lachlan has dark eyes, almost black, but I swear there’s a tiny demonic flame burning in there. He opens his arms for a hug and my eyes bulge.

“Grenades…” I say faintly. “Pocket full of grenades.”

Kenna and Isla are suddenly behind me. Kenna loops her arm with mine, “Let’s go out and sit by the fire, aye?” Her mother smiles at me reassuringly, but she’s already swiftly dismantling an assault rifle and reassembling it and I really do not want to be in this room anymore.

“Sounds grand, thank ye.”

Logan…

I knew my sister would have Arabella well in hand by the time I got to Da and Mum’s place, and she did a fine job. They’re sitting around the outdoor fireplace with Kai’s wife Luna, laughing.

“The fire’s too big? Really?” My wife looks genuinely remorseful.

“You’re definitely perfect for Logan.” Luna taps her glass to Arabella’s. “The pyromaniacal bent leans toward soulmates.”

Admittedly, the blaze is so big that there’s flames shooting out of the stone chimney but who am I to discourage my bride’s love of fire. My parents still live in the big Georgian style mansion they bought in a posh section outside of Glasgow when Mum was pregnant with Kai. Their neighbors know better than to complain about something as minor as a wee bit of a bonfire.

“Oh. Well, we had a fireplace at my parent’s house, a huge thing,” Bella explained. “My pop never allowed us to use more than a stick or two of kindling. ‘Too expensive,’ he said. Look how nice a big, cheerful blaze can be!”

I suspect she is on her second glass because she’s a bit chatty. Crouching in front of her, I cup her cheek. “Sweet wife, I will buy ye an island and we’ll have a proper forest fire for your birthday.”

She jumps out of her seat, letting me haul her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. It’s possible that the car chase this afternoon shook her up more than she knew.

“That was quick! Kenna and Luna were kindly sharing some memories about ye.” My wife smiles sweetly, but I can tell she’s got some ammunition stored up to taunt with me later.

“None of the absolutely worst bits,” Kenna assured me, smiling sweetly.

“Hmmm.” There’s little I can do that intimidates my sister any more, which is a shame because the woman is a menace. “I need to meet with Da and the others. Have ye eaten, sweetheart?”

Luna and Kenna make little “Aww…” noises. Eyeing the empty wine bottles, I say, “I’ll have the cook send some food out.”

Once I’m in the war room, better known as Da’s study, it looks like we’re already on our way to a resolution. Adriano Costa, the head of the cartel and owner of the warehouse Uncle Lachlan turned into a crater, is on the big screen monitor.

He dinnae look happy.

“Attacking my men and our warehouse could be considered a declaration of war,” he growls.

“Ye brought women and children into one of our ports for human trafficking.” Uncle Cormac has my father’s seat, and he’s radiating fury. “Ye have always known our stance on the Red Trade. They have all been taken to a safe house.”

Costa laces his fingers together. “The wrong shipment was sent to the port. I will, of course, discipline the lieutenant responsible for the mistake and have his head delivered to you.”

My attention moves the men in the background. Costa is seated outdoors on a terrace, palm trees waving and a profusion of vividly colored flowers, most likely at his estate outside of Bogotá. There’s another group of lounge chairs behind him with five or six men seated there. One of his sons, Marcos, I think, is whispering angrily to another man, one of Costa’s chief advisors.

“There is also the matter of your men attacking one of our wives,” Uncle Cormac continues. “This is a violation of a long-held agreement between the families.”

This news, it seems, Costa had not heard, because his face is turning a mottled red.

“Benicio!”

The advisor stands as if he knows he is going to his doom. “Who ordered the attack on the MacTavish woman?”

Benicio frantically murmurs something to him, and it does not seem to please Costa, who pulls out his gun and shoots the man in the head. Calmly wiping the blood spray off his face with a white linen napkin, Costa nods at Cormac. “We honor the code. Kindly accept my apologies with payment in blood.” The old man leans forward with sudden interest. “We could, of course, strengthen the bonds between our families by uniting one of my daughters with one of your sons?”

Michael’s standing right behind me and I angle to block him from Costa’s view. My cousin’s expression of horror is not flattering.

“Lucia, my eldest, is eighteen and a beauty,” Costa continues, as if he’s not just shot his senior advisor in the face. His son Marcos is ignoring the conversation, still whispering to the others.

“Your suggestion is, of course, an honorable one.” Uncle Cormac is smoother than butter on a hot bun when he wants to be. “We must table such a discussion for another time. Our agreement was the use of our ports for a one-time shipment of weapons only. I am withdrawing the use of the MacTavish ports for this action.”

Ach, the old man’s not liking this answer. “We can add an additional five percent to our agreement with you.”

“Not at this time.” There’s a look my Chieftain gets when things are about to go wrong, a blank look in his eyes that promises retribution and fire and death. Costa is a cunning old bastard, and he knows when to bow out.

“Very well, MacTavish. We will speak again soon.”

“Goodbye,” Uncle Cormac nods, clicking a button and ending the call.

He swivels in his chair to look at the rest of us. “Thoughts?”

I lift my hand. “Chieftain, the call was recorded, aye?”

Xenia is in the corner and she nods, “Of course, we film everything with the Hasselblad H6D. Thirty-two hundred megapixels.” She says it in the same tone most people use when talking about baby kittens.

“Can I bring in Arabella?” I ask. “As ye all know by now, she’s an excellent lip-reader, and I’m mighty curious about what set Costa’s boy off in the background. Her Master’s degree covers the evolution of sign language in the romance languages. She’s trained in British Sign Language as well as ISL and SSL. She learned to speak Italian and Spanish as well to track the evolution of their sign language properly. She’ll be learning French this year.”

“Good lad,” Uncle Cormac nods approvingly. “Bring her in. The rest ye, go get something to eat, talk, and speculate amongst yourselves. Oh, and Dougal?”

Da turns. “Aye, brother?”

“Have your guards keep an eye on the front gate. When that box gets delivered, ye dinnae want it leaking all over the cobblestone.”

My father groans, mumbling something about “having the meeting at Cormac’s place next time” as he leaves.