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He smiles as he introduces himself and tells me about his job at the bank and his rescue cat, Sophie. And the old truck he’s trying to fix up. He’s nice. Sweet. Kind. The kind of man I would have taken home to Mam if she was still with us.
But she’s no longer here.
And I’m no longer that Fiona.
I’m a good girl who has fallen head over heels for the very worst of the bad boys. A monster. One who lied to me then kicked me out.
Fine. Go.
Flowers don’t mean come home.
Flowers aren’t an apology.
Flowers don’t tell me that he knows how wrong what he did was.
His words burn in my memory, bringing tears to my eyes.
Leave.
No longer able to face this speed dating situation, I excuse myself from the lovely, handsome bachelor across from me, from my old life, my old self, my old everything.
“I’m—I’m so sorry,” I manage to choke out. “I’ve got to go.”
Leaning down to whisper in Carol Ann’s ear, I say, “I’m so tired. I’m calling a car.”
Excusing herself from the man across from her, she narrows her gaze. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, but stay, please. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The big brass bell rings, echoing through the bar, signaling the men to shift seats.
A deep, gravelly voice interrupts us. “Well, you’re a pretty lassie, ain’t ye?” A man with black hair and tattoo sleeves on his arms grabs the seat across from Carol Ann, taking her attention.
“Yes, please,” she murmurs, the tip of her tongue flicking over her lips.
I rush from the bar. Tears streaming. Knowing that after Callum Burnes, I’ll never be the same.
Nothing will.
And without him, I’ve no idea how to piece the broken pieces of new me together.
If you walk out that door, never come back again…
Chapter Nineteen
Callum
Unable to sit still for long, I’ve never been one for reading, but as a child, I had a massive book of Viking lore bound with red leather, the pages filled with glossy photos of gory battles. I was obsessed, especially with the lore of the clans. Once male Vikings achieved manhood, they let their beard and hair grow to symbolize their warrior duty to their family and tribe. Only those who stood over the bleeding bodies of their defeated enemies could then shave their faces and cut their hair.
I stare in the mirror, dragging the razor down the side of my face, clearing away the final stripe of lather cream and hair.
When she walked away, I felt as if my insides had been torn out. Like I was staring down at my own bleeding body. Now, one week later, I still feel the same.
The night sky fills the framed pane of my window. I stare up at the moon, full and white, glowing over the sea. I'm thinking of her under the same moon, out there on our wee island. She may be lonely if she’s feeling anything like I am, but she’s not alone.
Unbeknownst to her, I’ve got guards surrounding her, staying at the Baynes farmhouse. Bayne’s younger brother, Eamon, typically holds down the fort, but he’s off in LA, filming the part of a Scottish gangster for an upcoming film. I’ve gotten his permission to use the place as headquarters for Project Fiona in Flight.
I respect our breakup, of course I do. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have my crew keep a close eye on her and protect her as best I can, even if she doesn’t want the life we had together.
