Page 88 of Five Days

She wound her hand through my arm and tugged me off to the left where a dark-windowed limo sat waiting for her. “Come along, lad. We have our freedom now, don’t we?”

I glanced down at the dark head held high, my eyes stinging. She clung to me as though afraid I would abandon her.

My only blood relative that I was aware of walked on America’s shores.

“I knew I would never be able to change that bastard’s mind,” she stated, the hint of her brogue like music to my ears. “So I had to bide my time. I kept track of you. Secretly, of course. And being younger than that bastard, I was determined to survive him and finally have a chance to talk to you. Claim the grandson he’d denied me for too long.”

A marriage of convenience—for her father, Granny filled me in while I sat in her limo, tongue-tied and still stunned by the turn of events.

She’d insisted on having one of her men drive my vehicle behind the limo. Having gotten her hands on me, she had zero intentions of letting me go.

That declaration resting in my head, I chose to simply listen to the story of a too-young girl who’d been all but sold off into slavery to an emotionally abusive husband she hadn’t wanted.

But such were the ways of northern Scotland back in the day, especially when men gambled with more than what was in their pockets.

“I had my wee beauty at sixteen,” she told me before sipping a Scotch whisky identical to the one in my white-knuckled grip.

It’d been over a half-hour since I’d set eyes on my grandmother, and I still couldn’t wrap my head around the truths I’d learned in that short amount of time it had taken to arrive at the Briggs’ family mansion.

“Sixteen?” I rasped.

“Aye—that bastard owned me two years before that.”

Fucking hell. I rubbed a hand over my face, staring at the woman with a spine of iron seated on the chair in front of me.

We’d settled in her sitting room just inside and to the right of the door I’d knocked on weeks earlier. The entryway of the mansion I’d been barred from entering even if I’d wanted to.

The scent of leather and roses had hit me upon crossing the threshold, and no matter how much I told myself I hated the monstrous house surrounding me, the presence of the sweet, fiery woman sharing a drink with me didn’t allow for any negativity in my heart and mind.

“You’re…sixty-six?”

“Five.” She winked and laughed.

“Malcom was twenty years older than you”

“Yes, the pompous ass.” She sniffed, but her eyes twinkled. “I’ve still got a lot left in me, lad—and I plan on spending the rest of my days exactly how I want and with who I want. That would be my only living blood relative. You, Zackary.”

I swallowed hard, my thoughts fucking fucked.

Her smile softened along with her gaze as though she recognized my inability to process. “I expect you have a life of your own, one you might not want some old, glamorous granny such as myself intruding upon, so I won’t push for more than an occasional visit. But I’ll never turn my back on you again, nor will I deny you what’s rightfully yours.” She waved her hand around, the massive emerald on her right hand as vibrant as her eyes.

“I don’t want it,” I whispered, knowing she spoke about the land, house, and riches.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the last Briggs of Malcom’s line, and with him finally six feet under and me the sole heiress to his fortune, I can do as I damn well please with it,” she stated with her nose in the air.

A huff of laughter rushed past my lips at her haughty declaration. I couldn’t begin to imagine the servitude and misery she’d endured the previous fifty-one years. I sobered quickly though.

“I apologize for not being there for you sooner,” she said. “For being too fearful to take a stand against the man my father sold me to. For not advocating for our daughter, or loving her enough that she felt it was okay to leave her newborn behind.”

“It’s not your fault. It was her decision,” I said. Same as it’d been Callum’s brother’s that had landed him in shit. “We make choices and have to live with the consequences.”

“You’re so much more than a consequence, Zackary—I hope you know that,” Granny stated sweetly yet with firm intent. “I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove that truth to you.”

“I already have the love of two good men, but there’s always room for more.”

She raised an eyebrow but not in a condescending way. “Two, you say?”

“Yes. I’m in a committed relationship with two men, Landon and Callum.” I held still, breath stalled while waiting for her reaction.

---