In my twenty-two years of life, I’d lost count of the number of times I’d died.
At the hands of my mother.
Plummeting from a bridge.
Chased by a knife-wielding maniac, pursuing me with murderous intent.
In each case, there had been a camera on me, capturing every gory detail. Never before had fear frozen my muscles. Then again, the threat had never been real.
Until now.
I stared at the grille of the car, inches from my face. Around me on the airport road, silence claimed the cool night air, juxtaposed with the screech of brakes from the near miss. The scent of burning rubber drifted to my nose.
Then the car’s door swung open and two heavy boots landed on the blacktop.
“Shite,” the driver snapped.
I flinched, and a tremble took over me.
Somehow, I, fierce and independent Elise, famous for my acting skills as well as my off-set antics, had become afraid. Of men. Of everything. Definitely of getting mowed down.
I dropped to my ass on the road, my limbs giving out.
The man rounded the hood of the car. Wide-eyed, he stared at me, his fingers jammed into his hair. “Fuck. Are ye okay, lass?”
“F-f-fine.”
“Did I hit ye? I didn’t see ye until the last second.”
“No.”
“What were ye doing running into the road?” He blinked, and recognition registered.
Since I’d left LA, I had gotten away with not being spotted. Mostly. The woman in the seat next to me on the plane only had eyes for her fussy kid.
But this guy had every reason to be looking out for me.
The moment before he hit the brakes, I’d recognised him. He was Cameron McRae, a friend of Leo’s who I’d come to visit.
Visit was the wrong word.
I’d come to the Scottish Highlands to hide.
Leo had sent a message with a name and a photo of his friend, this man, then dropped me like I was hot.
In a black T-shirt and dark canvas pants, Cameron crouched next to me. Thick muscles stretched his sleeves. “You’re Elise, aye? I’m here for ye.”
Fresh panic swamped me, but I forced out my words. “I am. You’re Leo’s friend.”
“Cameron. So sorry I nearly ran ye down.”
“Is everything okay? Do you need help?” someone called.
The Scot lifted his focus to the brightly lit terminal to our right.
People gathered, no doubt attracted by the screech of brakes. Low-level dread spiked my breathing. I drew my hood up, knowing that in a minute, someone else would make the connection, then cameras would appear in hands.
After I’d exited the flight, I felt the weight of attention on me. Then in the immigration queue, I was sure I’d spotted paparazzi. They followed me everywhere. Except I hadn’t told anyone I was coming here. Not my manager, not even my mother.
I peeked again at the crowd. No one on the sidewalk had that look about them.
Had I imagined it?
Cameron answered the enquiry on my behalf. I blanked out his words, taking a second to regroup and pull back inside my cracked shell.
“There’s a photographer following me,” I half-whispered. “I ran through the terminal to get away. They can’t know where I’m going.”
Cameron swore then rose, holding out a hand for me. “Leo said ye were being hunted. Hence my rush to get here in time for the flight. Come, let’s go before they find ye.”
I couldn’t take his fingers. Didn’t want a man’s touch anywhere on my body. Still shaking, I stood of my own volition then peered at the car.
Behind the windshield, something moved.
“Who’s that?”
“My dog.”
For some reason, my hackles lowered. Surely a man with a dog had to be kind at least some of the time.
Gingerly, I rounded the car and climbed in the back with the animal, ignoring the front passenger door. Cameron made no comment but got us underway with the thrum of the engine.
He drove fast and threw glances at the rearview mirror. “Several cars left the airport behind us. Once we get into the national park, I’ll know if any are in pursuit. No one will be going where we’re going. I’ll get ye home safe. Are ye okay back there with my dog? She’s friendly.”
I should thank him, or say anything, but I couldn’t speak. Instead, I huddled inside my hoodie, my bag strap clutched to my chest.
The large brown-and-white dog gave a low whine, and I put out a hand to stroke her thick fur. She rested her head on the seat, content with the minimal affection I could dish out.
We drove for what felt like forever. Once off the main highway, the streetlights ended and pitch-black night surrounded the car. I knew Leo lived somewhere remote, but this took the cake.
“Dinna be alarmed. I’m going to speed up then pull over,” Cameron said out of the blue. “A pair of headlights have stuck behind us. By rights, they should’ve turned off.”
“Why do you think that?”
“It’s a taxi. We’re past the turnoff for the village and a mile out from the gateposts to the estate I call home. If a relative or neighbour had been on the same flight as ye, they would’ve had someone pick them up.”
A shiver ran down my spine. If he was right, then I had been, too.
Someone really was pursuing me.
He killed the lights and hit the gas, then with precise moves, slowed to slide the car down a narrow lane. In absolute darkness we crunched over rocks, low tree branches tapping on the roof. Then we stopped. A blanket of velvety blackness swallowed us whole.
At the end of the lane, headlights cruised by.
Cameron exhaled. “That’s them. We’ll give them a minute to turn around. If they don’t, they’ll be on the road heading into the mountains.” He twisted in his seat to look at me. “What happened? Who’s following ye? Ye said a photographer, but why? Leo only told me to expect trouble, not the source.”
“Don’t want to talk about it.” I curled my legs underneath me, the trembling hurting now.
Even in the dark, I sensed the weight of Cameron’s confused stare.
“I’m a friend, ye ken? Leo’s married to my cousin. I’m on your side.”
I needed to nip his interest in the bud. “Listen, I’m grateful for the ride, but you don’t need to be my bodyguard. That’s a paid job, and I chose not bring any of them with me.”
Cameron gave a short laugh. “I’m just trying to help, princess.”
Princess? I ground my teeth together.
The only possible way to maintain your sanity when everyone around thought they were entitled to a piece of you was to keep to yourself. I never, ever shared details about my life with strangers. To do so now would be nuts, and I’d already sailed too close to the edge of insanity these past weeks.
The engine rumbled behind us once more. Lights flashed past the end of the lane, our pursuers presumably retracing their steps.
Cameron clucked his tongue. He waited a minute, then turned the car and eased us back onto the road. With the lights still off—God only knew how he could see where he was going—he drove until we were passing two giant stone gateposts.
“The McRae estate,” he announced. “Your home for however long. Leo told me he’d arranged for ye to stay in a bothy, rather than the castle. I assume that’s okay with ye?”
I didn’t care where I stayed. So long as there was a door to close and lock. Presumably a bothy, whatever the hell that was, had one of those. I grunted agreement.
“Then we’ll head straight there.”
A short while later, we pulled up outside a small stone building. Cameron leapt from the car and popped the back door, unclipping his dog from its harness. She bounded out, sitting at his feet, alert.
He rounded to where I’d already climbed out. “Need me to take your bag?”
“I’ve got it,” I muttered.
Outside, the shadows of night extended over the landscape, hiding our surroundings from my view. I didn’t mind. If I couldn’t see anyone, they couldn’t see me.
Cameron opened the door to the tiny cottage then waited on me. “I’ll show ye where everything is.”
Suddenly, my panic returned in a rush. An enclosed space. A stranger in this strong-looking man. Nope. There was no way I could go inside with him there.
“Could you please leave?” I asked on a breath.
My heart thundered, and nausea rose. This was rude of me, but he had to go. I needed to get under a blanket and hide until the shaking went away. I couldn’t breathe properly until that door was locked with me inside and the world kept at bay.
“I’ll switch on the light—”
“No. Just go. I’ve got this.”
Cameron planted his hands on his hips. “Fine. Key’s in the door. If ye need anything—”
“I’ll call Leo.”
He gave me a searching look, undoubtably disgusted by the ill-mannered diva he’d had the misfortune of encountering.
Yet he did as asked. With a gesture to his dog, he got back into his car. Whether for my sake, or perhaps because he’d forgotten, he kept his headlights off, gunned the engine, and sped away.
Leaving me to sink to the ground in a flood of hopeless tears.
Wondering if I was ever going to get back to normal again.
