Page 25 of Sadie’s Highlander (Highland Protector #1)
CHAPTER 24
“ I went to the jail.” Alec leaned forward and thumped his knuckles on the desk. “She was no longer there and they wouldna tell me where she went nor who came t’fetch her.” He’d barely held his temper with the uniformed woman behind the desk of the county facility—especially when she’d threatened him with an inside tour of the men’s holding cell. He didn’t have time to be jailed. He had to find Sadie. That thought alone had curbed his tongue.
“Where the hell is she, Dwyn? Ye have yer ways and yer contacts, but I have mine as well. Ye best be telling where my Sadie is and ye best be doing it now.” He would find her—even if he had to tear apart the entire county in the search.
Dwyn remained silent.
“Damn ye!” Alec funneled his frustration and pain into his fist and cleared the desktop of the neatly piled stacks of maps and blueprints.
The explosion of paperwork fluttered down to the floor like softly falling snow. How had life soured so quickly? One moment, he’d had a future with the woman he loved; the next, all that he’d ever protected and cherished had been torn asunder. Alec jabbed a finger at Dwyn. “Where the hell is she, man? I ken that look on yer face well enough. What the devil do ye play at?”
Dwyn meandered around the room; his hands clasped to the small of his back as he paced. He didn’t speak, just occasionally heaved in a great intake of air, then slowly blew it out, each time giving Alec a sideways glance.
“Ye might as well tell him. Especially, since we’re not certain of how much time we truly have to do all we hope to accomplish.” Sarinda rose from the depths of a leather wingback chair beside the shuttered window of the office. She bent and squinted up into the wide bowl of the stained-glass lampshade and dimmed the light of the antique floor lamp standing beside the chair. Approaching the desk with both hands tightly clasped in front of her waist, she watched her son with a look that twisted the knots in Alec’s stomach even tighter. She stopped a few paces in front of the desk, turned back to Dwyn, and nodded. “And ye may as well give it to him. That must be dealt with as well.”
“Tell me what?” Alec dreaded hearing what Dwyn might have to say—especially since his mother had accompanied the demigod advisor to pass along whatever ill tidings had to be shared. Sarinda never allowed her children to face bad news alone. No matter what age they were, Sarinda swore that as long as she lived, she would protect her bairns, as she was still apt to call the lot of them.
“What the hell are ye to give me?” Alec forced himself up from the chair, looking over the top of his mother’s head at Dwyn. He would not take ill tidings sitting down. ’Twas always best to face a battle on yer feet.
Dwyn halted his pacing, shoved a hand deep in his coat pocket, then slowly drew it out. Cupping his fist palm down to hide whatever he held, he extended it to Alec and waited, staring down at the floor and not speaking a word.
“If that’s what I think it is . . .” Alec glared at Dwyn. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t have sent it back—she’d sworn . . . promised even. Alec stared at the back of Dwyn’s hand. How could she do this? And without a word? They hadn’t even had a chance to clear the air between them. Alec lifted his chin and clenched his teeth. She could not do this. Not after the way they had connected—not after all they had shared. Alec shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I willna accept it. Not from you.”
“It is what ye think . . .” Dwyn waited a moment more, then gently placed the engagement brooch in the center of the desk. “And ye will accept it because it must be so—for now at least. Mistress Martha says the woman told her she canna bear to face ye and begs ye to do as she asks.”
Alec’s eyes burned with the need to blink as he stared down at the pin. He leaned forward, fisting his hands on either side of the precious memento that symbolized so much. He slowly sank back into the chair, the sight of the returned brooch twisting all hope from his heart. He finally looked up, first at his mother, then over at Dwyn. “Why do ye say it must be so? Explain it to me. Now. I can make Sadie understand if I just have the chance to talk with her.”
“Mistress Martha has told me of the girl’s pain and suffering o’er what happened. And ye caught glimpses of Sadie’s troubles even though she tried to hide them from ye. Ye saw the hurt in her eyes even when she scoffed at those people’s cruelty and did her best to make ye believe she didna give a whit about how they treated her,” Sarinda said as she moved closer. “Dwyn has learned much about yer lass—probably more than even she knows—or will admit. He’s learned her history and the mistreatment she’s endured from those who shouldha loved and protected her as caring foster parents would.” Sarinda stepped to Alec’s side and rested her arm across his shoulders. “Yer woman has a sensitive soul—a softness and a vulnerability she hopes to hide. Do ye not agree?”
“Aye,” Alec said softly. “I would say it was one of the many things about her that drew me close. She’s as fragile and lovely as the silvery moon shining on the darkest night. She’s ensnared me. I am the wolf teased and bewitched by her subtle lonely light.”
Sarinda nodded. “And I’d also say yer Sadie blames herself for all that happened on the mountain and is hell-bent on punishing herself for all her perceived wrongs of the past few days. We must help her get past all these things, son.”
Alec swallowed hard, gut tightening as he kept his gaze locked on the brooch. Máthair was right. Sadie would blame herself for Delia’s atrocities. Alec closed his eyes and bowed his head. And her taking the blame was his own damn fault. One of the conditions he’d named for the filming was that Sadie would vouch for Realm Spinners Productions’ integrity and make sure her sister abided by the contract.
He knew the woman he loved better than she knew herself. When she made an oath, she took it to heart and meant it. ’Twas yet another reason he loved her so. She was just like him when it came to keeping her word. Alec scrubbed a weary hand across his face and rubbed the corners of his burning eyes. He’d been a fool to make Sadie think she was her sister’s keeper.
“Tell me where she is. I must go to her and explain.” He scooped up the pin and stood. “I will make her see. Make her understand.”
“No. I told ye that now is not the time. There is still much to be done and verra little margin for error in the plan the ladies and I are pulling together. I advise ye stay clear of her—for just a while yet.” Dwyn reluctantly shuffled two steps back, bushy red brows arching to his nonexistent hairline. The slight, balding demigod widened his stance, obviously bracing himself for Alec’s rage.
“I dinna give a rat’s arse what ye advise.” Alec stormed around the desk and headed for the door. Sarinda snagged his sleeve and yanked. Deeply ingrained respect for his mother kept him from snatching his arm away and charging onward. He came to a halt and jerked around to face her.
“Listen to Dwyn. He’s working on a fine way to help the girl overcome her past and guide her to forgiving herself. We’d planned on doing this for her before the explosion, but now we’ve got to ‘tweak it,’ as Esme would say.” Sarinda pulled at Alec’s sleeve again and shook a finger at him with her free hand. “’Tis essential this be done exactly right. Wooing and winning are more complicated now after all that’s happened. Ye must let us help her . . . and you.”
“I dinna need help from any of ye.” Did his mother think him completely incapable? Alec firmly but gently disengaged his sleeve from his mother’s grasp and turned back toward the door only to find Dwyn blocking his path. “Step aside, Dwyn. I mean to go get her and make her see sense. I’ll bring her back here and keep her locked in her rooms if that’s what it takes.”
“They call that kidnapping in this time—and unlike in medieval Scotland, it is no longer considered an appropriate way to take a wife. ’Tis a felony, in fact.” Dwyn lifted his short, outspread arms higher and spread his feet wider apart. “Ye need to calm down and listen to yer máthair. I’ve already put a fine plan into play, but Sarinda, Esme, and I have a few more details that must be put in place afore ye go charging in and making a mess of things.”
The almost uncontrollable urge to snap Dwyn’s neck made Alec throw back his head and roar. Profanity-laced Gaelic burned free of his throat until both Sarinda and Dwyn squinted their eyes, covered their ears, and backed up a step. Chest heaving and the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his head, Alec finally stopped bellowing and shook a fist at both of them. “Ye’re killing me! The lot of ye are killing me!”
Bloody rage still burning through him, Alec shoved Dwyn out of the way, then yanked the office door open. He jabbed a finger at the hallway, clenching his teeth to keep from shouting again. “Out. Now. The both of ye.”
Dwyn yanked his suit coat straight and calmly held out his arm for Sarinda to take. “Perhaps it would be best if we gave him a bit of time to cool off and come to his senses.”
“If ye were not immortal, I’d kill ye, ye redheaded bastard.” Alec yanked the door open wider and thumped it hard with his fist. “Get out now and leave my affairs to me. The most important battle of my life must be planned, and then I mean to go and win her back.”
“What are we to do?” Sarinda whispered to Dwyn as they hurried past Alec.
“Ye’re to leave me alone, Máthair, and allow me to handle this as I see fit.”
Dwyn ushered Sarinda farther into the hallway, then turned back and reached for the door. “I’m doing this for yer own good, lad. Remember—I was sent here to watch over ye during just such times as these.” Then he quickly pulled the door closed and the locking mechanism in the latch rattled with an ominous clatter.
The realization of what Dwyn was up to came to Alec seconds too late. “Ye best not, ye son of a bitch!” He grabbed the brass door latch that had already taken on an eerie reddish glow, much like a burning ember pulled from a furnace. Scorching metal sizzled against his flesh.
“Damn ye straight to hell and back!” Alec jerked his hand away from the handle just as quickly as he’d grabbed it. A painful streak of red throbbed across his palm. “I’ll snap yer neck for ye, ye meddling bastard!” Alec kicked the door, then stormed across the room to the panel of windows behind his desk.
He yanked open the blinds and peered down, gauging the distance from the window ledge to the top of the porte cochere below. “I can make that easy.” He’d be damned if he’d let them lock him in his room like some unruly school lad sent to bed without his supper. He halted his hand in midair, glaring at the window latch—the metal already radiating heat and glowing just as white hot as the handle of the office door.
“I’ll be damned if that stops me.” Alec grabbed his heavy desk chair by the armrests. Heaving it to one side in an arcing swing, he lunged and threw it at the wall of windows. Instead of shattering the glass, the chair hit with a solid thunk, then bounced back to the floor. “That son of a bitch.” Whatever Dwyn had done to protect the windows, he’d done it well.
“Damn ye, Dwyn!” Alec turned, grabbed hold of the edge of his desk, and heaved it over on its side. The light metallic clatter bouncing on the hardwood floor beside his boot made him look down. All anger drained from him, leaving only the darkest, bleakest sorrow in its place.
The brooch lay on the floor in pieces. The rare agate had been knocked free of the setting and come to rest several feet away from the now slightly bent silver pin. The precious symbol of his oath to Sadie now perfectly mirrored how terribly wrong everything had gone.
Alec sank to his knees, hopelessness bowing his head as he carefully gathered the pieces of the broken jewelry up with shaking fingers. “How can this be?” he whispered. Closing his eyes, he pressed the fisted jewelry to his heart. He sucked in a shaking breath and rocked forward, curling around the ache boring through him.
“How can this be?” he whispered again, silently praying that something or someone would hear his tortured soul and give him the answer.