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In which there is hope, and family.
Logan…
She looks so small, lying there in the hospital bed.
Bella’s face is a mosaic of blues and purples, while her nose wasn’t broken, she has one hell of a concussion.
I would give everything I have, I would’ve given my life to have reached her before that bitch landed her first punch. I should have shot Astrid first. But then the bodyguard would have shot Bella and…
“Mr. MacTavish? I’m Dr. Waterstone. Dr. Graham asked me to come in for a consultation for your wife’s condition.”
“Aye.” Rubbing my eyes, I force myself to concentrate. I’ve been with Bella since we flew home and I brought her to the hospital here in Glasgow. It’s been a couple of days, I think. I’m smelling pretty bad, like sweat and blood and gunpowder, but he dinnae seem to notice.
“Let’s go out in the hall, I dinnae want to wake her. She hasn’t slept much.”
His smile is kind and veering toward sympathetic, but it drops when I narrow my eyes and crowd him out into the corridor. Hamish steps over to the doorway, taking my place. We took over most of this floor of the hospital, and the waiting room is cluttered with MacTavishes.
Bella’s friend Meera is glaring at me, knitting something with wickedly sharp needles, and explaining to Kenna how to make a proper souffle. The woman is a multi-tasker. Uncle Lachlan is teaching Meera’s fourteen-year-old son how to wire a bomb with a hair clip and some string.
Sloan and Luna are talking some kind of baby shite about nurseries. Carol only got a mild sedative on the boat, so she recovered right away and she visits every few hours to check on Bella. My brother refused to leave once we got Bella here, and he’s just as smelly as I am. Mason did leave. He returned, though, freshly showered and wearing a three-piece suit.
Mum and Da stand up quickly. They’ve been waiting with me for the test results. “We’re hoping for some good news, Dr. Waterstone.” My mother’s smile is shaky as she tucks her arm around my waist.
“I’ve gone through the most recent testing, the MRI, the CT scan, and the auditory brainstem response. First things first, that concussion is nasty. But…” He flips his iPad over, showing us a graph. “I believe, and Dr. Graham agrees, that the hearing occlusion caused by the brain trauma can reverse.”
“Her hearing can come back?” I ask hoarsely. “It can- she could- something? Anything?”
“Her condition is irreversible, but you know that. And this concussion will likely hasten the degeneration of the auditory nerve. But I believe that she will still have a few more months, a year at most before there is a complete loss.”
“Time for more sounds to put in her treasure box.” I mumble, running my hand over my face. I walk away, leaving my parents to talk to the doctor and I go back to Bella. Crawling into bed with her, I watch her beautiful, bruised face until her eyes finally open.
“Hey.” Her voice is the same, sweet, and strong. “How long have ye been lying here, staring at me like a creep?”
I prop myself up on my elbow so she can see me clearly. “I dinnae know, to be honest. How are ye feeling, love?”
She’s watching my lips closely. “I wish I could have heard ye say ‘I love ye’ just once.” Her voice cracks a bit. “But thank ye for signing it.”
“I will say I love ye three hundred and twenty-seven times a day,” I promise. “I would like to hear it from ye as well. If you’re feeling the same way.”
“I love ye. I love, love, and love ye. So much.” Her eyes fill with tears and it’s tearing my fecking heart out. “I wish I could hear it though. Just one time.”
“The doctors say ye might.” I tell her everything Dr. Waterstone explained to us. I ask Da to fetch the doctor back and he tells her as well. There is much examination of test results and graphs and in the end, when she’s exhausted, my mother kisses Bella’s cheek and my father squeezes her hand.
“We’ll see ye back at home,” Mum promises, winking at me. “Though I’m sure this one will be hovering over ye like a ghoul.”
“Nice, Mum. Good imagery.”
She laughs, kissing me goodnight and then it’s just us in Bella’s hospital bed. She dinnae let go of me, even though I’m smelling like a dumpster.
Dr. Waterstone is right. By the time I take Bella home the next day, she’s hearing bits and pieces. Not much. But it is something.
Family trickles in, just a couple of people at a time. Surprisingly, the first person Bella demanded to see was Xenia.
“Tell me ye got those feckers.” Her bruised face is set and angry.
Xenia’s face lights up with an unholy joy. “Oh, girl. Yes. Yes, we did. Not only did I divert all the funds the patients paid for the surgery, I found a back way into the rest of Anselm’s board of directors holdings and drained all their money, too. Those fuckers knew exactly what was happening. And if they didn’t, they should have.”
She glances at me, “The family took a good chunk of the money, which is reasonable and you should see the bonus the Chieftain gave me and Georges!”
“Ye deserve every penny,” I assure her, then drop my head in defeat. “And my Maserati.”
“Yes!” Xenia shouted, then slapped her hand over her mouth in horror. “Oh shit I’m sorry, Arabella. Fuck!”
“No worries, aye? It’s nice to hear anything. Tell me the rest, you evil genius.”
“Okay, so after diverting two hundred million pounds into the MacTavish coffers, I re-routed the rest of the money from Anselm’s assholes into various legitimate organ donation programs and set aside fifty million pounds. I thought you might like to decide whether you want it to go to research for hearing loss or a charity for assistive devices.”
“Dinnae worry about the Wallace School,” I say, “the Lady Elspeth is very interested and has taken it on as her pet project and my God have mercy on your Headmaster’s soul.”
Bella’s face is rapturous. “Oh, I have a list. So many places to send that money.”
My wife’s next visit request is for my Da and Uncle Cormac.
“Lass, ye might have won the prize for the toughest of the MacTavishes, but please dinnae feel like ye have to keep that up,” Da says.
“Is there a trophy or a plaque that comes with that?” She looks intrigued.
“I’m sure we can put something together,” Da promises.“Perhaps on one of those giant chains of office.”
“Chieftain, I wanted to ask-”
“Call me Uncle Cormac, please.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I still feel like my Da whenever someone calls me that outside of official duty.”
“Thank ye, Uncle Cormac. I wanted to ask ye about the Costa Cartel. Have ye moved against them yet?”
“No. We’re tracking their ships in the Atlantic. They’ll try storming us at our ports on the coast near Edinburgh, but they dinnae have the manpower. They just dinnae know that yet.” His grin is like a shark’s, too wide and very alarming.
She pulls out a business card from her bedside table drawer. “I know ye sometimes involve law enforcement, aye?”
Uncle Cormac shrugs. “We try to maintain a good relationship with the local constabulary when it’s useful.”
“Detective Christie, she was on my assault case. I know ye had her pulled off, and I understand why. I have to say… she’s one of the good ones. She told me that if I wasn’t here under my own free will, she’d help me get away. She just wanted me to be safe.”
“She is a good one,” he agreed.
“I dinnae suppose ye could bring her in on this Costa business? Tip her off, perhaps?” Bella holds out the card hopefully, and with a laugh, Da takes it.
“We could make a phone call or two at the right juncture, brother. Don’t ye think?”
“We could,” Uncle Cormac agrees. He stands to leave, taking Bella’s hand. “Ye have a gift. A superpower, as Logan said. No matter what happens with your hearing, your superpower is very much in place, aye? Ye are important to this family.” Her eyes fill with tears and he backs away. “No lass, no tears! Tears are my Kryptonite!”
I see them out as quickly as is polite, and take the stairs back up to the bedroom, two at a time. “I know there’s a long line of family waiting to be called for their time with ye, my bride. But I canna take one more fecking visitor.”
Grinning, she scoots over, patting the bed invitingly. “What do ye think about turning off our phones and pretending there’s no outside world for a while? No murderous cartels. No family - though they are very nice! No clan business, aye?”
“That is an excellent plan, my bride.” I pull her onto my lap, resting my chin on her hair, sweet with the scent of jasmine from her shampoo and thankfully, only the barest lingering traces of hospital disinfectant.
“Wait.” She holds up her phone. “What does this mean?”
It’s from Sloan.
I feel that it’s my duty as your sister-in-law to warn you that once you’re up and about, The Lady Elspeth will be charging down from Edinburgh to plan your huge wedding at the MacTavish Estate. Rest up. Carbo-load. It’s a lot to handle. I mean, A LOT.
“What is this?” The blood drains from Bella’s face, leaving her sheet-white. “What is going to happen?”
Rubbing my eyes, I groan. “Ah, feck. The wedding. She’s still holding it against me that the family priest didn’t marry us the first time.”
“I dinnae know if I’m ready for the full MacTavish experience!” She’s trying to scoot away from me and I grab her ankle, pulling her back.
“I’m gonna take ye away from here. I dinnae give ye a proper honeymoon, and now’s the time. I will tell my grandmother that there is no planning to be done until we’re back and ye are ready. This means I will be the first male in my family to stand up to The Lady Elspeth and it is possible I will not survive the encounter. But it will be done. Pick a place that you’ve always wanted to see, and I’m taking ye there.”
“Oh. I like that.” She sighs in relief. “There’s only one absolute requirement that I have, so ye can pick with that in mind.”
“Aye, of course, love.”
So serious, my wife, fixing me with a firm glare. “Nowhere near an ocean. Not even close. In fact, not even a lake or a river. The desert. The desert sounds good. How much trouble can we get into in the desert?”
We both laugh, holding each other and feeling the bloody remnants of the last few weeks fade away.
She’s right, though. No fecking ocean.
Table of Contents
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- Page 37 (Reading here)
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