Among the Heather (The Highlands, #2)

“Oh, of course! You fly to California as soon as your entire famiglia fly to Scozia for you!”

It was true. I had followed North to LA for a week while my family was in Scotland. However, I’d spent two weeks with them, and I’d spend more time with them when I got back. But North had wrapped filming on Birdwatcher, and although we’d had some alone time, my family was kind of smitten with him. He loved it. And I loved that my mother cooed over him like a proper mom rather than flirting with him, that my dad showed him respect and admiration, and that Allegra teased and laughed with him like a little sister.

I loved giving North that.

But I also wanted him to myself for a week.

He was taking meetings in LA—two for movies and one for a TV show. To my surprise, North had wanted my opinion on the scripts his agent sent him, and these were the three we whittled it down to.

While he took a meeting this afternoon, I’d promised him I’d be fine doing a little shopping and not much else. I won’t lie—after running Ardnoch almost twenty-four seven for the last two years, I didn’t know what to do with downtime. I was restless.

I wandered through Beverly Hills, crossing Wilshire to go to a gelato place Allegra had recommended. While waiting in line, I felt a burning on my cheek and turned to see a tourist snapping a photo of me before noting I’d seen her do it. She blushed and hurried quickly away.

That was new.

When I’d lived in LA, no one recognized me. I wasn’t an actor, and I’d only ever been photographed attending my father’s premieres. People in the industry knew who I was, but I wasn’t a household name. But being called “the one” by North Hunter had made me recognizable.

After our first night out at a restaurant here, photos of us showed up online. I guess the public loved a love story, but they also loved the drama of watching one fall apart, and I had a horrible feeling we’d never stop being interesting to the tabloids until we did. Fall apart, that is.

Shaking off the dread that accompanied the thought, I reminded myself I lived in a place designed for privacy, and eventually, everyone would realize North and I would not fall apart. They’d grow bored. Once we’d been married a few years and started having kids, they’d move on.

I blinked. Startled by the thoughts that just so easily entered my mind.

That’s how secure in our love and relationship I was.

I truly believed North was my future.

My phone beeped and I pulled it out of my purse. A text from North:

Meeting’s over. It’s hot as fuck. Let’s go christen the pool.





I texted him I was on my way.

He replied,

You know by christen, I mean fuck, right?





Laughing, I told him I’d somehow managed to crack that code. Feeling high on my happiness, I grabbed my gelato and headed back to my rental car. We were staying at my parents’ place in Malibu while we were here, and I’d dropped North off in Century City for his meeting. Now it was time to pick him up for more uninterrupted sex. Seriously, my family had hogged so much of his time while we were in Ardnoch that I’d had to sneak into his suite during office hours for some sexy time. Very professional of me.

I’d parked in a garage near Rodeo Drive, my flip-flops echoing off the concrete walls as I walked. After placing my new purchases in the back of the car, I changed into sneakers because driving with flip-flops was asking for trouble.

Barely a second after I shut the driver’s-side door, the passenger side opened, and I sucked in a breath of frightened surprise as an intruder got into the car and slammed the door.

Then she turned to me.

Dislike warred with wariness, the nape of my neck tingling in warning as I came face-to-face with Caitlyn Branch for the first time in over two years.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yelled. Had she been following me?

Caitlyn smirked, and I noted her appearance with increasing unease. She’d dyed her red hair to a shade of dark brown that matched mine. A golden fake tan covered every inch of her, and her eyes were now green instead of brown. Contacts. “It’s good to see you too, Ari.”

“Get out of my car, Caitlyn.”

Instead, she stuck a hand in the large purse she carried and pulled out a gun.

It felt like my heart stopped for a good few seconds before it raced. The sense of unreality made my head spin.

She rested the gun to my forehead and at the cold press of it, nausea crawled through me. This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“It’s Ariella. And we’re going to take a nice little drive, right?”

At her sweet tone, I stared at her with incredulous horror. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“I just want to talk.” She lowered the gun to her lap. “Now, you’re going to drive toward Little Tokyo.”

My gaze dropped to the gun. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been trying to reach out for two years, Ari. Trying to get my best friend back. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Now no one can stop us from being together. Like we’re supposed to be.”

This wasn’t a joke. My stomach somersaulted. Gazing into her eyes, I saw she truly believed that. “Caitlyn—”

“It’s Ariella!”

“Ariella …” My tone was soft, coaxing. “I don’t know what you think is happening here, but just let me go. You don’t want to get in trouble for this.”

She scowled. “For what? Talking to my best friend?”

Oh, hell. “For holding me at gunpoint.”

“This?” She waved it. “This is just to make you listen. I don’t want to shoot you.”

I nodded. “Good. Good. So let’s just take a second. We can talk without the gun.”

Hurt tightened Caitlyn’s features. “I don’t want to shoot you … but unless you come with me and let me have my say … I will blow your brains out.”





Thirty-Seven


ARIA





Caitlyn forced me to throw my phone out of the car on the Santa Monica Freeway before we continued driving to a storage facility on the edge of Little Tokyo, down by the LA River. We could see the city skyline to our left, mountains to our back, and there were not enough people around for me to feel safe. In any way.

Once we parked in the empty lot outside, Caitlyn forced me out of the car.

With the gun pressed to my back, Caitlyn swiped a card over a machine at the entrance to a large one-story building. Inside, it was cool from the AC. We were inside a long corridor of dark gray walls with garage-like doors all along it.

“Keep walking.” She nudged the gun into my back, and I forced my shaking legs to walk. I was glad for my sneakers because I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have broken an ankle in heels. My legs trembled so badly.

Halfway down the corridor, Caitlyn commanded I stop and then she punched in a code on a keypad by one of the doors, and it rose along the ceiling. Shoving me inside, I gaped as she hit a light switch and a small storage room was revealed.