Among the Heather (The Highlands, #2)

“Ye killed ma laddie!” she screamed over and over, her words cracking and hoarse. So overcome with her fury, she lunged with too much force and lost her footing, enough for me to sidestep her and grab her wrist. It was against everything I was to hurt a woman, but Barbara Benny was gone. All that was in her was crippling self-loathing she’d misdirected at me.

I snapped her wrist back and she dropped the knife with a howl of agony.

Then suddenly security was in the room and pulling her away from me.

“Are you okay, sir?” a man in a black suit asked, his face blank with stoic professionalism as his colleagues cuffed Barbara Benny.

“I need a medic.” I gestured to the blood gushing out of my hand. “But otherwise, I’m fine.” And despite what had occurred, I realized I was.

“Ah should’ve come after ye when ye were a boy! When they took ye away!” Barbara cried. “Ah should’ve ended ye then!”

Everything Barbara had done to me was so she didn’t have to face her own guilt. All these years, I’d believed that what happened to Gil and what happened to Darren were my fault. That I could have done better to stop it. But I was just a boy. And I’d tried.

Barbara had sat back and let a monster destroy her son.

It wasn’t my fault.

Anguish and relief thickened my throat as I finally, finally let the guilt go.





Thirty-Two


ARIA





It was a bad day to visit the set.

North had … well, warned wasn’t the right word, but he’d told me last night that they were filming the love scene between him and his costar Eden. The French actor had rubbed me the wrong way from the moment we met because she flirted with North right in my face. North’s ambivalence soothed my irritation, but I think I’d underestimated just how much watching them kiss was going to bother me.

In fact, I lasted two seconds watching him make out with the other woman before I quietly slipped away and let myself into North’s trailer. Just the sight of him clasping her face, the way he clasped mine when he kissed me, was enough to split my chest open.

It was June. The film had moved location to Rome, and several scenes—that didn’t require a car chase through the city—were being shot inside Cinecittà Studios. Despite June not being Italy’s hottest month, it was a scorcher outside, and I was grateful for the AC unit in North’s trailer.

But not the quiet. In the quiet, I had time to think about his lips on hers. Her hands running down his chest, clutching at his ass.

I’d dated actors before.

I understood the business.

Actors had romantic scenes with other actors. Most of the time, it meant nothing. Though it had meant something with Preston and his costar. However, I knew North would never do that to me. So my possessiveness shocked me. I didn’t know if it was a product of being cheated on or if it was just because it was North.

Since Barbara Benny’s attack, we’d grown closer. North’s palm needed stitches, but otherwise, he was good. Although I’d had to return to Ardnoch two days after it, we’d never been emotionally closer. Barbara was facing prison time. She’d admitted to attacking us with the Defender and to sending the threatening letters. Neither of us knew if she really thought she could kill North by coming to his hotel room. It was obvious, however, that he’d become her obsession and it probably always would have led to a rage-filled confrontation.

We’d decided to put it behind us. The threat that had hung over North was over, and I’d noted a difference in him. He admitted to me that seeing Barbara, remembering her culpability in what had shaped her son, had relieved him of a lot of guilt. And I could see that lightness in him.

We found a rhythm again, traversing the challenges of a long-distance relationship, and I think, doing it well.

Despite everything he’d had to deal with, and how busy he was, I never felt like I wasn’t a priority to North. His early-morning texts and late-night phone calls made me feel like I was the first and last thing he thought about. Every day.

My trust in him was growing.

So … why was I so freaking jealous of this stupid love scene? I couldn’t let him see it affected me because this was North’s job. His career meant so much to him, and I wouldn’t have my insecurities getting in his head while he was trying to do his job.

Mind made up, I left the cool interior of his trailer and made my way back to set because I didn’t want him finishing the scene to find me gone. Thankfully, I discovered my not being there wasn’t an issue because they’d closed the set for the scene where North and Eden’s characters made love. One of the camera crew informed me that only a small crew remained inside, along with an intimacy coordinator.

Still, I waited impatiently for the scene to be over. When the sound stage doors finally opened, I followed members of the crew back inside. I ignored the knot in my gut at the sight of Eden walking off set in a robe. North was in nothing but boxer briefs, shrugging into a pair of pants. His athletic build had filled out during the making of this film, his already broad shoulders now impressively exaggerated against his narrow waist. The muscles in his back rippled as he pulled on a shirt, and I decided not to focus on the fact that Eden Gabriel had most likely felt those muscles move beneath her hands during their scene. I really tried. But when I tried, I kept thinking about how physically perfect she was and how her belly probably didn’t jiggle when North moved over her.

I closed my eyes and looked at my feet as a wave of anxiety threatened to take hold.

Fuck.

I needed to get a grip.

What the hell?

Forcing myself to focus, I took a few calming breaths and looked up. North talked with Blake for a few seconds, nodding along with something he said.

Blake patted him on the arm and then called, “Break for lunch! Be back here in thirty!”

North scanned the crew until he found me and then strode in my direction. My eyebrows rose at his determined expression, and I let out a little gasp of surprise when he hauled me against him and hugged me like I might disappear.

At first, I welcomed the embrace, but worry seeped in the longer he held me. Pulling back, I searched North’s eyes, and saw fear and remorse in them. “What’s wrong?”

He cupped my nape in his hand and rested his forehead on mine. He whispered hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”

“North … you’re acting. I know that.”

He lifted his head to nod reluctantly but smirked sadly. “If it was you … kissing, touching another guy … I’d fucking hate it. I … don’t know if I could do it.”

The confession made me feel a million times better. I smiled, resting my hands on his chest. “Yeah, you could. Because you trust me. Like I trust you.”

“North!” Eden’s voice stopped whatever my boyfriend’s reply might have been, and we turned to find her approaching now dressed in jeans and a tee.

Anyone could see we were having a moment, but Eden Gabriel only had eyes for my guy. My fingers curled into his shirt, and I could tell by the soothing stroke of his hand down my arm that he felt my tension.

With slinky Gallic flirtatiousness, Eden sashayed up to North and ran the tip of her finger down his arm. “That went well, did it not?”

North sidled a little closer to me. “Aye.”