Page 98 of Savage Reckoning

“So, I’m going to propose a looser arrangement. Just for you. You can come and go as you please, go about your business as before, but if you want to be based on Caraksay with Megan, I’ll allow that. I appreciate that you’ll have other… obligations. Your role in the military, whatever that is, will take you away, and that’s fine, as long as I have your assurance that nothing you do will work against my interests, legitimate or otherwise.”

“My work is usually top secret. You wouldn’t know what I was involved in, or where.”

“I get that. So, I’ll have to trust you. That’s why I’m asking for your assurance.”

“You’d accept that?”

“Unless you give me reason not to. And I also want your assurance that, within reason, if I need you, you’ll be there. A man with your skills and contacts is a valuable asset. My underbosses like you, they respect you, the men will take orders from you, so in return for my hospitality, I intend to capitalise on that. Do you think you could agree to my terms?”

“And, if I don’t?”

“Then nothing has changed. We part company, as friends, I hope. I wish you well. Megan, too, if she decides to go with you.”

“She won’t. Her life is here.”

He leans forward, his wrists dangling from his knees. “Okay. You know where I stand. I’ll leave it with you, then. Let me know your decision.”

“I accept.”

He grins and offers me his hand. “Welcome to Caraksay, Mr Sawyer.”

EPILOGUE

One year later, spring 2023

My stomach growls. I check the clock on the wall. Not yet eleven-thirty, and I’m ravenous.

“Ye’re eatin’ for two,” my aunt is fond of telling me these days.

It’s rubbish, an old wives’ tale, but she insists on feeding me up, and who am I to argue? I’m only a doctor, after all.

Maybe an early lunch…

My immediate future decided, I abandon my stockist for now. Supplies of controlled drugs will have to wait. I head out of the clinic and, puffing, drag myself up the slight incline towards the castle. My plan is to raid the kitchen before the usual lunchtime crowd arrives, and maybe snatch a bit of downtime with my aunt and Janey.

I was never one for shirking or taking time off, but recently I’ve made an exception. There’s always someone telling me to take it easy, to put my feet up. And I do get tired, as well as hungry.

Eight and a half months of pregnancy will do that for you.

I’m about halfway to the castle when it hits me. There’s nothing subtle or gradual about the agony that shoots from my back around to my belly button, followed by a cramping pain that brings me quite literally to my knees.

Christ, it’s started.

I let out a yell and try to get back on my feet, only to be felled once again by the second wave.

It’s too soon. Not due yet…

My baby apparently thinks otherwise. I double up in agony and scrabble in my pocket for my phone.

Before I can focus on dialling, I’m grabbed by strong, male hands, a pair on either side of me.

“It’s okay, Doc. We’ve got you” Ethan’s voice is laced with concern. “We’ll help you back to your cottage.”

I shake my head. “No, I need to be at the hospital. They’re expecting me…”

He doesn’t take any persuading. “Good idea. Chopper, then.”

Ethan and Aaron half carry me to the courtyard where a helicopter waits, its rotors whirling. Magda waves to me from the cockpit, her career as a pilot pretty much undisturbed now that she has her artificial limb sorted. Only when I’m safely strapped into a seat does Ethan ask about Gabe.

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