Page 115 of Beautiful Scars

Chapter 6

MEISIE

Five hundred guests.

I’m standing in the tiny car park and wondering whereexactlytwo-hundred and fifty cars are going to fit.

“We’ve got coaches. They’ll drop people off in the morning and come back at midnight,” Cillian says, as if the man was reading my mind.

“You’ve thought of everything,” I tell him as he grabs my hand and pulls me across the small patch of tarmac.

“Sarahthought of everything.” He chuckles. “I’d have just let the whole road get blocked. Sarah said we need to think of ambulances needing to get by.”

Why would we need...?

Fuck my life. Without the suit, I’d almost forgotten who I was standing next to. And the types of people he no doubt associates with.

I turn and look back at the road. It’s a single track, full of twists and turns, and leads into a thick forest. The castle is right on the edge of the city on top of a hill. You can see everything from up here, but because of all the trees it still feels rural.

I can see why he chose it.

And he wasn’t kidding about the cold.

The sun is shining but the wind is icy.

He leads me to a low, crumbling wall that runs all the way to the gate. Standing behind me, he draws me against his chest and wraps his arms around me. The city sprawls beneath us all the way to the ocean, where a few boats and ships are just visible. On the other side of the sea—or maybe it’s a huge river—more land.

“There’s a chemical plant over there. Mossmorran,” Kill says. “Sometimes they burn off excess petrol. I used to come up here at night when I was a kid. The flare from that massive fire would light up the whole sky red and orange. I thought it was a fucking volcano, daft wee bastard, but I’d be safe up here in my castle on the hill while everyone else got stuck in the lava.”

I laugh at visions of a little Kill smugly rubbing his hands together as the city burns below him.

“That’s Edinburgh Castle over there,” he says, pointing at one of the hills across the skyline. “Where the Kings and queens used to get married.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t choose that one.”

“I’m not Bill fucking Gates,” he says through a laugh. “Nah, this one’s nicer. More Castle-y. You’ll see.”

With that, he pulls me after him again. We walk up a small hill and through the black metal gates.

When you’re driving up the hill, the castle is partially hidden by a wall. But here it’s fully visible. And, just as he claimed, it’s all kinds of castle-y. Green grass spreads out in front of us until it meets another outer wall surrounding the building. This one has turrets and the typical hi-low brickwork that a kid would draw when they think of a castle.

Behind it, the actual structure rises up. And it’s missing a roof.

What if it rains?

I glance up at Cillian, who’s already smiling down at me. “Just wait.”

We walk up the grassy hill to the open wooden doors, and once through I’m glad I waited before passing judgment.

This place is beautiful.

Fuck it.

It’s downright magical.

We’re in a courtyard, the castle rising up on all three sides. Everywhere you look there are doors, arches, and windows without glass. Intricately carved masonry, gravel, and cobblestone walkways. There’s a tree in the center of the courtyard that looks like a dream to climb, with low hanging branches and falling blossoms scattering white petals across the stones.

“Um...wow..”