Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Dad cursed, looking ready to kill someone at the thought of my birth father tormenting me again after all this time, while the police exploded into a barrage of questions about who Nathan was.
Once the police had departed, after promising to pull any neighborhood CCTV and be in touch, Regan called Arro and Mac to let them know about the cottage.
“This place is cursed,” Thane muttered, surveying the mess. “I can’t tell you how many times something like this has happened here. Arro and Mac should just sell it.”
“Aye, you’re not staying here.” Dad glowered around the front room. “Once I get forensics done, we’ll come back and pack up your stuff.”
“Let’s go home.” Mum nudged me toward the door.
But Lewis stopped us. His expression was fierce with determination. “Stay with me.”
I gaped up at him, shocked by the offer. What about taking it slow?
“She’ll be better off at home with us,” Dad insisted.
Lewis scowled, and I was impressed by the lack of fear in his eyes. “No offense, Walker, but Callie is my girlfriend and she’s pregnant with my baby. She should be with me.”
“I can protect—”
“I can protect her too.” Lewis stared my dad down. “I’d die before I’d let anything happen to her.”
Before Dad could protest, I reached out for Lewis’s hand. “Okay.”
Relief softened his expression. “Aye?”
“Aye.”
Mum soothed a hand over my back. “You still have some things at ours. Why don’t we go there first so you can pack a bag to take to Lewis’s?”
“Fine.” Dad bit out like he was still the final say. “Just promise me you’ll get Fyfe out to install a system like the one at the bungalow.”
Lewis released my hand to pull his phone out of his back pocket, his fingers tapping over the screen. “Done,” he announced, with a respectful nod in my dad’s direction. Then he turned to me and held out his hand. “Mo chridhe.”
Standing there, in a crime scene, pregnant with a baby I’d never planned for, I should have been terrified. And part of me was. Yet, surrounded by my loving family, reaching out for the hand of the man who adored me, I couldn’t help but feel weirdly grateful under the circumstances.
Thirty
LEWIS
Last night we’d been so exhausted by the break-in, then grabbing stuff for Callie from her parents’ house, that when we got to mine, I’d led her into the primary bedroom without discussing sleeping arrangements. All I knew was that we were both tired, and I didn’t want her out of my sight now that there was a strong possibility the break-in wasn’t a random burglary.
Sloane had wanted Callie to take the next day off work, but she was determined not to let whatever was going on interfere with her day-to-day life. It was a Saturday morning, so I didn’t have work, but there was no way in hell I was letting Callie travel anywhere alone. She insisted I stay in bed, but I got up in the wee hours, both of us barely able to open our eyes from lack of sleep, and we got ready in silence. The only words we spoke were when I relayed I’d received a text from Eilidh that she’d heard what happened. She was upset she was out of the country with this going on. I already knew from previous conversations that Eilidh was worried she was missing Callie’s pregnancy, and I’d had to remind her that Callie wasn’t even showing yet.
I dropped Callie at the bakery, reassured to see Sloane waiting for her at the back door. After kissing her goodbye, I headed home to grab a quick nap and woke up to texts from friends and family who’d heard the news and were worried. There was also a text from Fyfe asking to meet for brunch. After replying with a request to meet me at the Gloaming, I tried to respond to everyone’s messages. Mum asked me to come over for breakfast, but I told her I was headed into town to grab a late breakfast with Fyfe before I picked Callie up after her shift. I promised to check in with her later.
The village was heaving with tourists by the time I returned. I ended up parking in Callie’s empty space behind the cottage before walking to the Gloaming to meet Fyfe. The late morning was already warm, and the sea breeze that would cool those on the beach was blocked here by all the buildings in its path. I passed strangers on the street, hearing accents that took me from America to China, and I had to wonder with how busy it was if we’d even get a table. Thankfully, Fyfe had already secured one in the dining area of the pub and hotel, and I settled into the booth across from him.
“Sounds like you guys had a night,” Fyfe said without preamble.