Page 64 of Diary from an Inked Throne

MacGregor stepped out of the house, crossing the dusty front yard, his arms spread wide. “I welcome ye to my humble abode!”

“Far cry from your castle.”

MacGregor chuckled. “Indeed.” His gaze flickered past me, and he frowned. “Who’s the lass?”

I shrugged.

MacGregor moved past me to the back of the car where the baby lay in its seat. He smiled charmingly at Priscilla and motioned to the brat. “May I?”

Priscilla deferred to me, which was pleasing. At least she was learning that I was fucking in charge here.

I didn’t care if MacGregor touched the kid. As long as I didn’t have to. I nodded.

Priscilla nudged the baby carrier toward him.

MacGregor stared down at the baby, and a genuine smile spread across his face. “Oh, hello there, wee one.” He reached into the carrier and unclipped the baby from his harness. “Let me get ye out so I can see ye. You’re a strong lad, aren’t ye? You’ve got thick legs. They’re like tree trunks.”

The brat cooed at him.

“I wouldn’t have picked you to like babies,” I said.

“Not all babies. Just this one.”

He looked at me, and I saw the change in him too late.

The gun in his hand, hidden beneath the baby’s blanket.

The shot came loud and fast, the sound registering before the pain did.

I hit the ground, clutching my neck, my fingers coming away sticky with blood.

Panic coursed through me in a rush, my heart beating too fast, my head a ringing mess, confusion making my brain slow and sluggish.

But there was no missing Priscilla’s screams as she ran for the road.

Or MacGregor’s face as he peered down at me with interest, watching me bleed out.

Slowly, he grinned and jostled the baby in the crook of his arm, his gun still firmly clenched in the other hand. “Look, James. Our first murder as father and son.”

I tried to speak, but the words came out garbled. Blood filled my mouth and spilled over my lips. It poured from the wound in my neck, dripping off my hands and onto the ground.

MacGregor held the crying baby to his chest. He soothed him with gentle pats and a side-to-side rocking motion. “Don’t worry, wee one. When your ma hears I have you, she’ll come with us. The three of us will live happily ever after in Scotland.”

He lowered himself to the dirt, kneeling beside me, his last words more directed at me rather than the baby in his arms. “I’ll teach you how to run an empire in a way that doesn’t leave you dead in the dirt in the middle of nowhere for the coyotes to eat.”

He pressed the gun to my forehead, my gurgles for help going unheard, the squeeze of the trigger the last thing I saw.

20

LYNX

Dear Diary,

Surviving one battle doesn’t mean you’ve won the war.

Inow knew what déjà vu felt like.

Standing there on the sidewalk, watching yet another of Luca’s cars engulfed in flames, felt a lot like standing there watching his car burn the first time.