Obsessed (Wild Mountain Scots, #1)
Obsessed: Chapter 27

My meeting of the rescue team and the lead emergency services personnel adjourned, frustration on all faces. Our police liaison officer clapped me on the shoulder and muttered polite encouragement before leaving the hangar.

We’d now had three fake call-outs, one last night and another this morning to add to Sunday’s, all with different callers, different locations, and all wasting hours of our time.

The lack of a pattern made them harder to detect. In between this week, we’d had genuine rescues—providing relief that we weren’t going insane—but the meeting’s conclusion hadn’t gone deep enough for me.

This wasnae a coincidence.

The service had been targeted, aye, but who led that service? Me. A man in hiding. I couldn’t ignore that as a fluke.

The attendees filed out, and I straightened the chairs for want of something more productive to do. I should head out to pick up Isla from the castle, but I knew the question she’d ask me and I hated denying her. She’d cried after school when I told her Caitriona wasn’t home. Caitriona had told her she’d be away a few days, but Isla wanted to know when she’d return. I did, too, but with no contact, I hadn’t a clue.

Or even if she’d want me.

Ever since she’d left, I’d been grouchy and entirely miserable.

Someone cleared their throat. I spun around to see a man at the door.

Ally, Caitriona’s da.

He’d been in the meeting, but I thought he’d left.

“Do ye have a minute?” he asked.

I sighed but lifted my chin. “Any thoughts on the problem?”

“Aye, but not with the service.”

“How’s Max doing?”

“Pissed off that ye banned him from showing up until he’s healed. That’s naw why I’m here, though.” He held my gaze, no challenge in the look, but careful consideration. “I want to talk to ye about Caitriona.”

Ah fuck. She’d asked him to see me off. Exhausted, I dropped into a chair and raised a hand. “Go ahead.”

“My wife told me about ye two …” He grasped the back of a chair, and lines creased his forehead. For a moment, he said nothing, then the usually jovial man placed his words with specific care. “My daughter is my beating heart, walking around outside of my body.”

I knew this, that they were close. Her da came by her home often, and her eyes lit when she saw him. I also knew the feeling with Isla.

He continued on while I inwardly sank.

“Did she tell ye anything of her background?”

“A little about her birth mother.”

Some of the wind left his sails. “I’m surprised. She never talks about Kaylee. One of her relatives believes that’s the reason she turned her back on relationships. The broken connection.”

I had no clue what to say. As she’d pointed out, Caitriona hadn’t committed anything to me beyond sex, then pushed me away once we got too close. I’d made it worse.

His stare darkened. “Do ye care for her?”

There was no point hiding it. “Far beyond reason.”

“I thought as much.” He leapt up, buoyant, and made his way to the exit.

“Wait. Are ye naw about to warn me or something?”

“Naw. You’re not mine to counsel. Not unless Caitriona tells me otherwise. Her ma and I just needed to know which way to go in advising her.”

I dug my hands into my hair, suddenly far from the imposing head of the rescue service. A lad, cap in hand and needing the word of someone more experienced.

“Ally, hold up, will ye.”

He cocked his head, waiting while I pieced over my words.

“I’ve never loved anyone before, beyond Isla, my sister, and mother. This is nothing like that.”

Ally grinned. “Good to know. It explains a lot. I willnae give ye specific advice on my daughter, but I cannae leave ye hanging. Here’s some general thoughts. What do ye have to offer a woman, Lochinvar? This isn’t an answer I need, but she might.”

“Lochie, please,” I said, miles away in my thoughts.

He tapped the doorframe and gave me another cheery grin. “Lochie. See ye on the hill.”

For fifteen minutes, I stayed in my seat, pondering his words. I’d offered Caitriona nothing aside from use of my body. Christ, for all she knew, I was leaving—I’d told her we’d go at the drop of a hat, if needed.

If she wanted me, that made a new world. One where I didn’t hide.

Which meant neutralising the threat.

My military training had led me to a tactic of concealing the item of value. Hiding Isla from those who would hurt her. Evasion over confrontation with an unknown force.

I’d played the odds.

Yet the greatest form of defence lay in attack. Every serviceman knew that.

Leaping up, I snatched my keys and phone. I had planning to do, starting now.

After dinner, I called Mathilda at Castle McRae to make arrangements for Isla, ensuring my daughter was happy to stay there after school tomorrow if I wasn’t back in time. Then it was on to Braithar to see Cameron.

He received us, his dog at his heels.

Isla squeaked in delight and dove on the animal, scratching her ears. She’d met Ellie multiple times at the hangar and adored her. If my plan came off and we settled, I’d buy her a puppy.

Cameron’s mouth lifted. “Come in, will ye?”

We entered and followed him to the lounge where Max lounged on a couch, his broken arm on his chest, and a big TV on pause.

I squinted at the picture, recognising the freeze-framed woman. “That’s the lass from your phone’s screensaver.”

Isla peeked around me. “Her name’s Elise. She’s a film star. She’s so pretty.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Cameron has had the biggest crush on her since he was a spotty teenager. Where do ye think Ellie got her name?”

Isla let out a peal of laughter.

Max grinned. “Mention the name of her boyfriend and see how he gets.”

To my entire amusement, Cameron, the cool and calm second-in-command, far more mature than his years and typically stoic, blushed.

“Shut up.” He glared at Max then took up the remote to darken the television. “Do ye need me for something, Lochinvar?”

I laid off the teasing and drew him aside, leaving my daughter to play with Ellie, Max replaceing a ball to make a game.

“I have to go away in the morning, possibly overnight. I cannae take Isla, so Mathilda will collect her from school and have her care.”

I’d landed on my feet with this job. I trusted the McRae family through and through and knew they’d look after Isla. Mathilda hadn’t even hesitated.

“Ye need me to run the service,” Cameron summarised.

“Got it in one. Ye have the experience to manage the teams. I’ll put out the message first thing so they’ll be expecting your voice on the line. We’re on the lookout for hoaxes now so should be better able to handle them.”

Not least for the fact that if I wasn’t there, I suspected they might stop.

He slowly nodded. “I can do it.”

“Aye, ye can.”

“On your task, do ye need any help?” he asked.

I paused. For all he knew, I was going last-minute Christmas shopping. But his insightful expression told me he saw more than I was willing to say, likely picking up on the rising energy in me.

The offer hurt my heart. No one could help me with this, I was on my own.

I clasped his shoulder. “Naw the now, but I’m grateful for the offer. Isla? We’re going. Give the dog a hug.”

“Good luck.” Cameron leaned on the stone entrance and watched us depart.

I’d miss this lad if we had to leave. I’d miss far more besides.

Which only made my actions that more vital to succeed.

Early the next morning, I kissed my daughter goodbye at the school gate and left the McRae lands, driving south. By ten, I crossed the border to England, then kept on going. Liv was jailed in HMP Low Newton, in County Durham. Online, I’d made my request for a meeting, and to my shock, it had been approved. The appointment was in the afternoon, so I had time to kill before that.

Not literally.

Probably.

I continued on the A1 until I reached Newcastle, then parked on a busy street in the Byker district, opposite a pub.

One I knew used to be owned by Danny, Liv’s eldest brother.

With no plan beyond observation, I sat in the car, staring at the place, only a couple of smokers lingering by the door to hold my attention. Rain spattered the windshield. The smokers disappeared inside the pub. After an hour, I’d had no sign of the owner and was considering the repercussions of going inside.

It would be crossing into his territory, with no backup. There was no reason for him to recognise me—I hadn’t seen any of the family since I was seventeen, and Liv had sworn she’d never tell them that I had Isla, but if they’d been smart and found our marriage record, they could have tracked me down.

I’d written off the idea, as they hadn’t done it already, but showing my face now could change all of that.

I’d be the prey, not the hunter.

Aye, it was a bad idea. For now, I needed to stick to reconnaissance.

I ignored my silent mobile, the lack of contact from Caitriona scouring my insides, and switched on the burner phone I used to contact my sister. I fired up my throwaway email account, not hopeful for a reply.

Two messages waited, both from Blair.

I opened them in turn and scanned the contents. She apologised for radio silence and referenced her mission—somewhere hot where everything tried to kill her.

At the end, she asked for an update on Isla.

I fast-wrote a response, then made a deliberate addition.

Lochie: We’re happy, but I cannae live like this anymore. My daughter deserves better. A home. A family beyond me. I’m taking steps to go on the offensive.

Stay safe – L

I sent it and sat back, tapping a thumb on the steering wheel. With the hour or so I had free, I’d remain here until my visit to the jail, then I’d likely return for the evening watch. Once I’d caught sight of the man in question, and hopefully obtained his numberplate or other details, I’d drive north, over the border again, and head to Liv’s childhood home, where I believed her mother still lived.

Decision made, I went to switch off the burner phone.

It rang in my hand, the call marked ‘International’ on the screen. I answered it.

“Lochie? What’s your plan?” Blair’s voice thundered. “Who’s backing ye up?”

“Hello to ye, too. Limited plan. No support,” I admitted.

“Then what the hell are ye doing?”

“I have no choice.”

“The fuck ye do. Walk me through it.”

It had been months since we’d last spoken, but as the model soldier, her advice was exactly what I needed.

I told her my thoughts, and my sister’s distaste resounded down the line. “Back the hell up. Regroup. Ye are outgunned the moment anyone recognises ye. What resources can ye call in?”

I grumbled under my breath. By resources, she meant people. Preferably trained and armed.

If I truly meant to eliminate Liv’s dangerous relatives, those should be my primary concerns. But unlike Blair, I’d never been bloodthirsty, choosing defence over assault in almost all aspects of my life.

Cameron had asked if I needed help, and I knew how readily the McRae men would stand for one another. Maybe even for me, if I asked.

“None. I have dozens of men and women at my control, a handful I’d trust with my life. None whose lives I’d be willing to risk.”

“Then the mission is a bust before it even started. Dinna half-arse it. Go home, rethink, gather intelligence. I can do the same my end now I have some downtime. There are people I know who can do this for ye. Better for your lass that we consider that option over ye slicing and dicing.”

I could picture my sister’s dangerous smile.

“Fuck. I thought ye were dead,” I bit out.

Blair guffawed. “Can ye imagine anything denting me? Da tried and failed. I’ve a cast-iron hide. Dinna be soft.”

We made arrangements to talk more and, by the time we’d hung up, something inside me loosened. I’d take the prison appointment, either way, but with precautions over staying safe. I needed a fully formed strategy. And people on my side.

My personal phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Cameron: Checking in. All okay?

I replied to the lad, a smile broaching my lips.

Lochie: Aye. I’m still breathing. Thank ye for caring. All okay there?

Cameron: No calls. I think Gordain’s office has been broken into. Nothing’s been taken, but on the floor was a paper with your name on it. A reference from your old job.

Ah fuck.

Then he knew Ross was a fake name. And so did someone else.

Lochie: Any idea who broke in?

Cameron: None. It might have been a mistake and someone left the door open.

He didn’t call me on my name change, and I appreciated the fuck out of it.

A new message came in fast.

Cameron: Keep me posted. Just check in when ye can. The offer’s still open for help.

I sent back a quick agreement, beyond grateful I had people who cared.

Then, heart aching, I typed out what I should’ve said to Caitriona.

Lochie: In case my yelling at ye wasn’t clear, I’m obsessed with ye, too. Please come back to me.