Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Unbeknownst to us at the time, Tierney had been in the middle of trying to prove her parents’ helicopter accident wasn’t an accident—they were murdered by the man who ran their hotel empire. Halston Cole had tried to shut Tierney up, and Ramsay stepped in to protect her. While this was ongoing, it was clear to me Ramsay had feelings for the younger American, but it took him a wee bit longer to come to terms with that. And yet he was just as protective, if not more, of Tierney as I was of Taran.
The difference was Taran and I had a complicated history.
I’d known Taran Macbeth my whole life.
We were born islanders. She was only a year younger than me, so we’d grown up together. She was my first love. The one I couldn’t forget. Even when she left for uni and it strained our relationship to the point where I fucked up royally and lost the person I needed more than anyone.
Nearly two decades later, she was back.
Ramsay grunted at my response and opened his mouth, probably to snap back with something smart, when the sound of sirens blared across the bustling harbor.
The boat jerked as Gillie, the driver, drew it to a stop by the dock.
The blood rushed in my ears as the only two police cars and ambulance on the island flew off Main Street and out of sight.
“What the fuck?” Ramsay muttered.
My mind jumped to the worst-case scenario, and I shouted uncharacteristically at the harbor crew to anchor the boat faster. I yanked my phone out of my pocket to call Taran, to reassure myself, and before I could even hit the button, Forde’s name flashed across the screen.
Forde Dallas was my best mate and one of the island’s volunteer paramedics and ambulance drivers.
I hurried to answer it. “What’s happening?”
“I’m pulling up to Taran’s,” Forde bit out harshly. “London called the police. Said an intruder broke in. You need to get here.”
I was already hanging up and running.
“Quinn!” Ramsay was at my back.
“It’s Taran!” I yelled as I sprang over the side of the boat and onto the dock. The impact of the drop shuddered through my feet and calves to my knees, but I barely felt it as I sprinted up onward. The sound of heavy footsteps hurried after me as I bolted across the harbor and up onto Main Street.
“Quinn!”
My vehicle was parked at my house on the outskirts of Leth Sholas. I usually walked the twenty minutes it took to get home, so I had no choice but to run to Taran’s bungalow.
Ramsay ran with me, not saying a word, knowing I didn’t have words in me. My heart was in my throat, choking the life out of me, and I had to push past the sensation.
To get to her.
The bungalow was in a residential area not even five minutes from Main Street. It had belonged to Taran’s mum before her death, and Taran inherited it last year. Taran was adamant she stay there with her roommate London.
I never should have bloody left the island!
Sweat dripped down my temples and soaked my shirt as I tore down the street toward the bungalow. Blue lights flashed from the emergency vehicles parked outside, and neighbors were gathered in their gardens and on the street, peering in curiosity and concern at Taran’s home. I shoved past Ennis, Taran’s neighbor, uncaring about politeness. Seeing me coming, others hurried out of my and Ramsay’s way as we bulldozed toward the property.
William, a young police constable on the island, tried to step in my path, but I shoved him too.
“Hey! You can’t go in there!” he shouted helplessly as I ran through the open front door of the home.
“Quinn!” London tried to push past DC Alice Young, who stood with her in the reception hall.
Alice’s eyes flashed in irritation. “You can’t—”
But I was already marching past her into the living room, chest heaving.
The island’s detective constable was there with Forde. Their heads snapped toward me, and they moved ever so slightly.
My gaze dropped to the floor. I saw Forde’s ashen face from where he knelt on the ground.
There was blood. So much blood I felt the room spin.
1. Quinn
June, Last Year
Istill couldn’t believe it.
After eighteen years, Taran Macbeth was in Leth Sholas. She was within touching distance.
Beyond the glass window of Macbeth’s Pages & Perks, to be exact.
People strolled by me on Main Street, walking in and out of the rainbow-colored buildings that made up most of the businesses on our small Scottish island. Leth Sholas was the main town on Glenvulin, and we’d packed what we could into it. Main Street overflowed with businesses. We had the volunteer lifeboat service and ferry crossing, holiday apartments, two hotels, a hostel, a beauty salon, a convenience store, Macbeth’s Pages & Perks, a bakery, two gift shops, a museum, a hardware store, an antiques store, a chocolate shop, a whisky distillery, pharmacy, Italian restaurant, and a fish-and-chips shop. In the village beyond were more stores, a fishmonger, a butcher, a doctor’s surgery, the fire and police station, and a small supermarket. Farther out on Glenvulin were a few more cafés and restaurants, a cheese farm, my parents’ farm and their farm shop with fresh produce, as well as a couple more hotels and B and Bs.