Page 65 of Dark Side of the Laird
Perhaps with a bit too much effort as I lurched forward, my body threatening to crush both women beneath me—my cock swaying in the breeze and my arse up in the air.
“Steady now,” the older woman said, sounding as though she spoke to a mule or some other wild animal.
I didn’t want to put all my weight on Emma. Didn’t want to seem so helpless. But I was. And I did.
I leaned on her heavily as the old bat stuffed my twig and berries into the braies and tied the garment closed. Embarrassment had long since left me. They slipped a hooded cloak over me and then the old lady took the lead, ushering us forward.
“With all the chaos, ’twill nay be too difficult for ye to escape unseen by Garbhan, my laird.”
“Garbhan?” Emma asked.
“His torturer. The man has it set in his mind to…keep Logan for some time.”
I shuddered, having a good idea of what Garbhan had in mind. None of which would be pleasant whatsoever. “What chaos?” I asked, my mind still buzzing. It took every ounce of strength I had not to collapse. Every muscle screamed out in agony. My skin felt flayed.
Even though they’d rescued me, I’d still be lucky to make it out alive.
“The king is dead,” Emma whispered. “Long live the queen.”
My mind froze and I couldn’t take another step forward.
James was dead?
The tormenter of my life no longer existed in this world? And I’d not been the one to run him through. Disappointment was an understatement. I was devastated.
I collapsed to my knees, my hand sliding down Emma’s arm. Drained of energy and now of my soul, I’d never be able to face him. Never be able to seek vengeance on the man who’d tortured me for so long. The man who wanted me dead. Garbhan be damned, James was my true enemy.
Why the hell did he have to go and die?Ideserved to kill him. It was my right to put him in his grave.Ideserved to take back my life. My shoulders slumped, hands down on the ground. There would be no closure for me in this. How could I move on after being treated like an animal when I couldn’t face the man who put me there?
Emma dropped beside me, her soothing hands on my face and she turned me to look at her. Her fiery hair framed her face in wild disarray. Porcelain skin was pale, lips a perfect red bow. Her green eyes flashed knowing as she pressed her palm to my cheek. I turned my lips into her hand, kissing the tender flesh there, and breathing in her lemon scent. She understood how I felt. She didn’t pity me for it, she just offered herself as comfort.
My eyes burned with long held in tears, and even now I refused to let them leak. To do so would be showing how weak I felt, and I refused to let that be seen. Not even when I was broken.
I leaned toward her, pressed my face to her breast and breathed in her sense, the familiar sense of calm I felt whenever she was near coming over me. I wrapped my arms around her middle to hold her tight, every possibility I would never let go.
“What’s this?” I asked, feeling the hard box within the satchel at her back.
She looked at me, her eyes wide, and she didn’t speak.
Instantly, I knew what it was. “We must burn it.”
Her throat bobbed and she gave a single nod of agreement.
With the evidence of who I was burned, there would be only one other thing I required. “I…need…to…” My throat was so tight, I could barely make the sound come out. “See him.” I managed.
Emma shook her head. “You can’t, Logan. There’s no time. We have to get you out of here before they kill you.”
I gazed at Emma, her brow crinkled with fear and worry, and I hated that I was the reason for her distress, but in this I would not back down. “Let them. I will see… his body.”
Speaking made my throat ache, and I licked my cracked lips.
Emma chewed her lip, making me regret the growl of cruel words. She glanced up at the old woman who handed me a flask.
I took a long draught of whisky, feeling it burn a painful, then numbing path all the way to my stomach.
“Ye canna, lad. There are guards surrounding the place. They’ll capture ye before ye get close.”
“Let them,” I said on a breath, then took another long pull from the flask.
