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Warrior of My Own Page 4
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We were out on the beach running through our drills. Magnus and I were sparring with knives and he was telling me to lunge.
I lunged.
He pushed me off and made me do it again and again and again.
Each time pushing me off and making me do it over.
I was trying to be upbeat. I was trying to try. I was happy to have him home and wanted to focus on that. But I was also one big piece of wrecked mood. There was too much going on in my head.
So I missed his cues that he was getting frustrated. That was my bad.
His bad was oh so much worse.
He made me lunge again and pushed me off. “Nae Kaitlyn, tis weak. You will die with a lunge like that.”
“Not if I do this.” I kicked weakly on his hip, wiggled my hips, and smiled flirtatiously.
“Stop smiling and lunge again.”
I tried to look more serious and lunged again.
Magnus knocked my knife from my hand, grabbed my arm, twisted it behind my back, shoved me face first into the sand, and pulled my hair back.
I screamed.
He pressed on my back and growled in my ear. “You are dead.”
Sand was in my mouth and nose. I tried to get my hands to my head. My hair was about to rip from my scalp. The pressure in my back hurt and his voice was terrifying.
A sob escaped me with a whimper. I begged, “Please, Magnus, please—”
He shoved himself off.
I clutched my head and curled up in the fetal position. I spit sand from my mouth. It was in my nose, all over my face. I tried to catch my jagged breaths — but I couldn’t control them. My anger was rising, tamping down the fear from a second before. I was about to have a gigantic total melt down.
His breaths were heavy behind me, but I wasn’t going to look at him — I might never, ever, ever look at him again.
I pushed myself up and stood and spit more sand. I swiped at the sand covering my face but it was wet and thick.
I turned to leave.
Magnus said, “We arna finished.”
I refused to turn back. “We are too finished. We are totally finished.”
I heard him heave himself up.
Beside me was a pile of knives on a duffel bag. Without thinking I dove for one and lunged screeching at my husband surprising him so much he lost his footing and fell to the ground. I held the knife just in front of his eyes, my hand shaking with anger. “How dare you? Are you a fucking monster? A barbarian? Is that what you are?”
His eyes wouldn’t leave the knife point.
“Are you a fucking barbarian Magnus?”
“Nae.”
My voice had gone all dark and deep. “You want to scare me? To teach me a lesson? I’m the motherfucking matriarch of this family. I’ve got people that depend on me, that I take care of. I run a fucking household, and you want to scare me, make me cry? Don’t you ever.”
My hand went weak, tears welled up, and my voice cracked. “Don’t you make me scared of you Magnus, don’t you do it.” I dropped the knife to the side and collapsed on his chest. “It’s not fair. I will hate you. Don’t make me hate you, don’t do that.” His arms went around my body. “Don’t make me scared of you, I don’t want to be.”
His lips pressed on my forehead and brought another sob to my chest.
I asked, “Why would you?”
He held me tight to his chest. “I daena ken.” He pressed his cheek to my forehead and continued, “I wanted ye tae feel afraid as I am for ye.”
“The reason I’m not as afraid is because I trust you and I love you and I know you’ll take care of me. Why would you want to ruin that? Don’t ruin it.”
He bowed his head near mine. “I winna Kaitlyn, I winna.”
I heard Quentin’s approach and felt Magnus’s hand wave him away. Magnus adjusted his position so I was encircled in his arms and then we just sat huddled together. I tried to gain control of my breaths, to stanch my tears, and gather my strength. I didn’t know how I would get past this, but I knew I would need to. My best bet was to stay in his arms until it was comfortable again until I wanted to be there.
Even if it took all day.
So we sat in the sand, and maybe he was thinking the same thing — that he would keep me in between his legs and his arms until I was comfortable and not about to run away.
And we breathed together, his breath near my forehead. The scent of our sweat in my nose.
After a very long time I hiccuped.
And then quickly hiccuped again and giggled.
“Och aye,” he said with a sigh of relief.
I hiccuped again.
He raised my chin with a gentle hand and brushed sand off my face. Then he reached for his shirt to the side and wadded it up and used it to brush my face more. “Close your eyes, tis in your lashes.”
I hiccuped again and looked up at his face. “You scared the shit out of me, don’t do that again.”
He nodded. “I winna.”
“Good.” I hiccuped again.
A smile worked at the edge of his mouth. “The motherfucking matriarch needs a glass of water.”
I giggled. “Don’t you forget it.”
“I winna, Kaitlyn, you have my word.”
“Good.” I stood and offered him a hand to help him up. “And I trust you, see how much better that is?”
“Tis a great deal better, but ye are still shaking.”
“Yeah, I’m really at the end of being able to (hiccup)—would you mind if I took a (hiccup) nap? I just...”
He walked me into the house and after a glass of water I went and curled up around my knees in bed thinking, “I don’t have enough time with Magnus to be wasting it sleeping,” and, “Does Lady Mairead really want me dead?” And, “I moved my grandma into a home this morning,” and, “My husband came really close to breaking my heart today,” and a moment later I was fast asleep.
Chapter 8
I woke up groggy and confused. The light was dim. I looked around and startled because Magnus was right there, kneeling beside the bed, looking right at me. “How long have you been here?”
“Just for a moment. Night is coming on and I was hopin’ ye would come eat soon, because Chef Zach and I have a surprise for ye.”
I smacked my lips. “A surprise? For me? I really need to brush my teeth first.”
I checked the clock: 7:10. No wonder it looked like sunset outside. He rose from his knees and sat on the bed while I went to the bathroom.
“You might want nicer clothes.”
I returned with my brush in my mouth and paste lather all over my lips. “Really? What is it?”
“Tis a surprise.”
He was wearing a nice kilt and a dark shirt, open at the neck. Really hot, lord-of-the-castle-night-time casual. I disappeared into the bathroom and sniffed my pits. Gross. I sponge-bathed all my parts and then stepped out to the hallway, naked, figuring my husband would enjoy the view. When I glanced his way it was clear from the smile on his face. I scanned through my dresses and found a little black sundress. “What were you doing while I was sleeping? I feel so much better by the way.”
“I plotted your surprise with Chef Zach and then I sat with Ben for a bit.” I pulled the dress on and picked some panties from my drawer and pulled them on. “And then I spent some time in prayer.”
“Oh.”
“I asked for guidance in these matters and think I have an answer.”
“You do?”
“Aye.”
He looked pensive. I went and wrapped my arms around his head. “Is it about us, are we okay?”
He nodded in my arms. “I would have asked ye this same question.”
“We are, it’s just been a complicated day. I know you were scared. You were just trying to get me to try harder, but Magnus you’re twice my size. You’re bigger, scarier, stronger, and I get that you could hurt me if you wanted to. That is the plight of being a woman, danger is inherent in loving someone. I chose you because you
won’t. Ever.”
“I winna. Ever.”
“See, we’re okay. It was just the stress of the moment and you forgot what you were about.”
“And you had a gentle reminder.”
I smiled. “At the end of a knife point.”
“You can defend thyself, ye proved it.” His hands rubbed up my ass lifting my dress. He nuzzled into my chest.
My throat caught. “And you can leave me knowing I’ll be okay.”
He nodded and let my dress fall back down. “We should go see your surprise.”
He led me from the room and through the living room. Chef Zach was leaned over a kitchen counter working on something. The room was mostly dark. Up the stairs, through the office, out the sliding glass door, and through to the roof porch. This was usually only used by the security guards but now was strung with twinkling lights. There was a small table and two comfortable chairs. Candles flickered in the center of the table and it was set with a tablecloth and china. Faint music lilted from speakers hanging from the corners of the house.
Emma pulled a chair from the table for me and gestured for me to sit down.
“This is beautiful.”
“Zach and Quentin set it up.”
“Where’s Ben?”
“Sleeping, I’ve got a baby monitor on, and shush, you’re ruining the magic.”
Magnus pushed my chair in for me and sat across from me a smile on his face.
“You came up with this?”
“The spirit of the idea only. I told Chef Zach I wanted something special for ye. He and Emma came up with the parts.”
Emma uncorked a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “I’ll be back with your appetizers.” She left through the office.
“This is amazing.”
“You deserv’d somethin’ verra special, and we haena dined with each other in a long time.”
I drank from my wine and enjoyed the warmth flowing through me. The first few moments of conversation were stilted and awkward but then something he said made me laugh. I returned a joke and a moment later we were both laughing. The appetizer arrived: warm olives, cheeses, and cured meats, and we ate happily. Magnus pulled the plate in front of him joking that he would eat it all.
“You sir, keep eating like this, ice cream at all hours, and we’ll have to put you on a diet.”
He laughed, jovially, “I can just go back tae Scotland and starve for a bit, will cure any paunch I gain.”
I giggled and stole an olive from the plate. “Watch this.” I tossed it high and caught it in my mouth. I grinned. “I have mad skills. I also feel like I got my mojo back a little.”
“Your mojo?”
“My magic, my secret powers, my vitality.”
“In my opinion, ye never lost it.”
“You have to say that you’re my husband.” I stretched back and put my feet on his knee, comfortable. “Since we’re reeling from your mom’s bitch-move, tell me something good about your family.”
His hand stroked my ankle. “Sean has a son nae much older than Ben. I was thinking of him today. His name is Gavin, a braw lad living three hundred years afore Ben yet so much alike. Screaming their heads off for the fun of it.” He chuckled.
“You’re an uncle?”
“Three times.You are also an aunt.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” I shook my head. “I never thought of that at all — your family in Scotland is my family too. I’ve always wanted a sister.”
“My sister, Lizbeth, has a son named Jamie. He is about four years auld, and she has a wee lass named Mary.”
Emma appeared on our rooftop deck to bring us the next course, New York strip steak with roasted potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and carrots. “This looks delicious,” I said as a cry emitted from the baby monitor.
Emma said, “Oops! Okay, if you need anything Zach will deliver from now on.” She hustled from the room.
“I can’t believe they’re okay with the dangerous situation today, the break in, the threats...” I said, watching her go.
Magnus said, “They arna okay with it but I believe life has been hard on them afore this. I spoke with him long this afternoon, they would like tae make it work here. I am glad he is willing’ tae stay, and tis good that your priority has been tae keep them comfortable.”
“I guessed life would be pretty bleak for you without Chef Zach, and speaking of that, let me tell you what happened when I came back...” I launched into the story of my return: How the house had been closed up. Why Quentin had been in jail. How I begged Zach to come home. And about unpacking the boxes and how it felt when I was putting his things into their drawers. Then I told him about the night, months later, when Emma went into labor.
Magnus and I ate and talked about our household, our family, our duties and our goals, eating our steaks, drinking wine, using my phone to call down to Zach for ketchup before Emma returned with Baby Ben in a sling, her shirt up so he could nurse, to bring us more wine.
After I was stuffed full of food, Emma and Zach both appeared to bring a platter of strawberries, slices of bananas, a stack of graham crackers, toasted smashed marshmallows, and a bowl of melted chocolate. I moaned happily. “Zach how did you get all this done?”
Emma laughed, “He has been frantic down there for two hours, you like?”
Magnus’s face was hilariously excited.
“Everything has been delicious, thank you so much. And high class S’mores, yummy.”
“See, I told you,” she said to Zach.
“Yeah you did, I just wanted it to be perfect.” They disappeared through the office. I dipped a strawberry in chocolate and nestled it on a marshmallow’s gooey middle, smashed it between two crackers and held it toward Magnus. “Lean over your plate, this will be messy.”
Magnus and I ate S’mores and drank and laughed and talked, and it was probably one of our best nights ever. The perfect date. And though he hadn’t planned it all — he had started it for me because I had a bad day.
And that meant so much.
By the end of it I was fresh and new and hot for him. The way his arm was bound in muscles and held the S’mores so gently in his strong hands. His jawline as he concentrated. His lips as he smiled. He had a little sun on his nose from the day and when he leaned back in his chair, his knees sprawled, my feet resting on his firm thighs, I was really very very very hot for him.
“I need tae talk tae ye of something, Kaitlyn.” His voice startled me.
“That sounds serious?”
“Tis serious.”
My stomach dropped to my shoes. His expression had turned down. His demeanor was nervous. His everything was classic man tricking me with hotness into thinking everything is okay then springing with something much like — I don’t love you anymore.
I pulled my foot from his thigh and stood.
“Magnus. Are you going to say something awful?”
“Please sit, tis nae like that.”
I sat, nervously chewing my lip. “What is it then?”
He was slow to begin as if he was choosing his words, again freaking me out. “I have decided, Kaitlyn, twould be best if ye would come with me when I go back.”
It took a moment for my mind to stop thinking: He’s breaking up with me. And how adolescent was that — my husband says ‘we need to talk’ and I freak out? I would need to unpack that with a therapist probably, because that ‘panicky insecure thing’ was not how I wanted to be, but here I was doing it.
Speaking of panic though, my husband wanted me to go back in time with him.
“I didn’t ask to go with you, I’ve been careful—”
“I ken ye have been verra quiet on the matter. Your silence allowed me tae think on it. After careful consideration and prayer I think twould be for the best.”
“Why? I mean, I’m not sure now is the best time. My grandmother is in a new home—”
“Your parents live here. They can see tae her. And afore ye had a verra large distance between ye
, there were thousands of miles. She has had months living with ye, now a few months away twould be a’right I think.”
“But the company, the money, everybody, and—”
“You have made it so Zach and Emma would be our stewards.”
“I did, they can be, I just... is this because I’m scared of Lady Mairead? Because fear is not — I mean she is scary as hell, but isn’t that why we have round the clock security? To protect us from — I’m just saying I’m not ready to go. It would take me some time and—”
“Tis nae because of Lady Mairead. But having ye here with Lady Mairead threatening your life — ye will bring danger tae Chef Zach and his family. Tis too much for Quentin tae guard for.”
“It could be dangerous for Baby Ben?”
“I daena ken but it might be, and tis nae this only. I was already thinking on it. Tis nae fear.”
“Then what is it?”
He fiddled with his fork for a moment. “Being without ye, searching for ye through time. Twas verra hard. And Mistress Hayley said we are apart too much—”
“She meant you should stay here.”
“Sean needs me.”
“Ah.” I nodded thinking, trying to sort out how to make it happen. The truth was it would be really impractical, hard to get all the stuff I needed to go—
My husband pushed his chair back and dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Madame Kaitlyn Campbell, I have traveled for a long time to get home tae ye and I daena ken if I can leave ye again.” His head was bowed, his hands at his side. “It takes all the pain I can bear tae think on leaving ye. Without ye I am but half of myself. Tis verra difficult." His eyes cast down, his lashes shadowed his face. He spoke to the ground in a stream like a prayer. “I ken it wasna be easy for ye tae come but we are bound, and I need ye.”
“You need me?”
He nodded, his eyes still cast down. “Without you I am lost, always searching for ye. I canna be—”
I stroked my fingers down his cheek and he pressed his face into my hand bowing his head more, his eyes clenched tight. “I die when I am in the past. How dost ye know when tae declare me dead? You could decide it, call me dead, and I canna blame ye for it. Because I am. But I daena want tae be, I want tae live,” he put his arms around my hips, his head in my lap. “With ye.”