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Stolen: Chapter 6

Maddock

With the helicopter returned to the hangar, and the motorcycle part with Isobel, I drove to my cottage and packed a bag. As each item got tossed into the rucksack, my mood plummeted.

I wished I’d asked Rory more. Shown her more about myself. People thought I was quiet, but that wasn’t so true. I was just quieter than my brother.

Rory had said she wasn’t dating Max. That they wouldn’t have worked. Yet when she’d made her twin mistake and jumped into my arms…

I tried to recall her words. Something like, ‘I’m here and so are you and I’m just going to do this.’

She’d meant a hook-up.

“Fuck,” I bit out and chucked the bag to the floor.

I liked her. Wanted her. She was cute, sweet, and funny. Her dry sense of humour appealed to mine.

From the way he’d reacted by storming off and vanishing, Max felt the same way about her.

Besides, I’d already decided never to have casual sex again. Sleeping with Max’s ex was a wake-up call.

It had meant nothing to me, something else entirely for her, and devastation for Max.

Hooking up with Rory would be a repeat of all I’d done wrong before, and I wasn’t about to go there.

Moving through to the lounge, I locked the door and killed the lights, then I returned to my bedroom and spread out on my bed.

I was horny, mixed up about my job, and beyond confused about the lass.

I’d stick with my plan then get the fuck out of Scotland.


The next morning, I slung my overnight bag into the back of my car and slammed the door. Heavy rain clouds hung low, and I momentarily regretted that I couldn’t take a heli up into them. Maybe a lightning strike would knock some sense into me.

My phone buzzed from my pocket, and I grabbed it to see a message from Cameron on the screen.

Cameron: Call me.

I would, but not now. He’d already tried ringing once, but I had to get on the road and start the hunt for my errant brother.

With a fast reply of Aye, later, I stashed my phone and returned to my cottage, locking it up. Before I could get back to my Land Rover, Lochinvar stuck his head out of the window next door.

“Hold up. Phone call for ye.”

He proffered their landline handset out of the window, and I strode over and took it from him.

“Thank ye.” I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“It’s Cameron. Okay good, you’re still there.”

“Why? Is something the matter?”

“Naw, but can you swing by the crofthouse now?”

I couldn’t really, but I also rarely refused my family anything. I heaved a sigh and altered my plans. “Fine. See ye in ten.”

With a quick thanks to Lochie, and the return of his phone, I got on the road and a few minutes later, pulled up outside of Cameron’s crofthouse. The door was open, and his brown-and-white dog sat in the entrance. She barked once, then clattered on over, nosing my hand for a pat as I journeyed up the path.

“Cameron?” I bellowed in the door.

No one was in sight, though my gaze landed on traces of Rory. Her bag hung over the newel post. Her hiking boots lined up against the wall alongside those of my cousin and his girlfriend.

Then the lass herself jogged down the stairs. Her gaze landed on me, and her smile broadened.

I couldn’t help it, but fucking butterflies swarmed inside me, like I was a teenager with crush.

Rory stepped up to the door, a backpack over her shoulder. Without thinking, I took it, then held it for her.

“Dinna want ye to strain that arm,” I muttered by way of explanation. “Are ye going somewhere?”

“I hope so.”

Then I picked up on the signs of worry in her looks. She wrung her hands, and her dark eyebrows merged. “This is going to sound insane, but I’ve been thinking about it all night. I want to go with you. Hear me out. I know it’s last second, but Elise and Cameron have to go somewhere else for a couple of days and, though I could go with them, I’m really mad at your brother and I want to fix that before I go home. Plus the thought of exploring everything along the way… It’s all I can think about now.”

She sucked in a breath, and I swallowed to hide my pounding heart.

Exploring the chemistry between us suddenly regained prime position in my imagination.

“If you think this is a horrible idea, just say. Either way I have a bag packed. I’ll go with my sister to the airport and to England with them, or I go with you, we share the driving, and I’ll help you find Max.”

“You’ve already been to England,” I said insensibly.

“Right?” She gave a nervous laugh. “I mean, what else is there to see? I’d prefer to travel around Scotland more, and the route you’re taking looks incredible.” Her gaze dropped to her feet. “This way, we can hang out together more, too. If you want.”

I took a moment to reply. Having her along for the ride would be a perfect combination of torture and pleasure. I already liked her company, and if the alternative was her going to England, she might miss Max entirely if I achieved my goal and sent him back to her.

“You’re serious?” I asked.

She lifted her gaze to mine, and determination shone. “Extremely.”

Noise behind her brought Cameron and Elise downstairs.

Elise peered between us. “What did he say?”

Rory waited on my answer, her fingers clenched in fists at her sides.

“Get in the car, lass,” I told her.

Rory squeaked excitement and hugged her sister.

Over the lasses’ heads, Cameron raised his eyebrows at me then gave a short shake of his head, amusement plain.

Somehow, my method for avoiding Rory had become a full-on couple of days in her company.

I found it hard to be sorry for the fact.


With Rory already packed for a trip, there was no hanging around. I opened the passenger door and helped her inside, adding her bag to the back seat beside mine.

Then I focused on the road and getting us underway.

Rory’s perfume, something sweet and light, filled the car. She got comfortable in her seat then brought out her phone.

“Max,” she said out loud, typing. “You’re an overgrown man-child. Your brother and I are on our way to find you, seeing as you don’t want to talk to us. Run and hide all you like, we’ll track you down.”

She paused with her finger over her phone. “Okay if I send this?”

I grinned and kept my attention forwards. “Fine by me. I’ve messaged him a few times and heard nothing. Maybe that will get us somewhere.”

“I did, too.” She scrolled through her messages. “Max, give me a call. Max, did you really just disappear off in a sulk? Seriously, Max. I thought we were friends.” Rory sighed and put the phone down. “I don’t know why I bothered sending more messages after the first. I just don’t get his attitude. We’ve been chatting for months, and we got on so well. I guess I’m just being stubborn by wanting to yell at him face to face.”

I gripped the steering wheel, the leather warm under my palms. “It’s more to do with me than anything. But either way, I want to clear it up, too.”

“What do you mean?” she started, then her phone rang in her hand. “Oh my God, I think this is the bank finally calling me back. Do you mind if I take this?”

I gestured for her to go for it, and Rory took the call.

The person on the other end of the line gave a series of questions which she answered rapid-fire, clearly excited about whatever they were going to discuss.

“Okay, so what can you tell me about the money?” she asked. “No, I already know that. It isn’t mine so it shouldn’t be there.”

Then she paled. “No, I don’t have any reason to think it was stolen. Why would I? Have you been able to find out anything from your investigation?” She paused for the other person to speak, her muscles tensing before she spoke again. “How is it a huge bank can’t tell me where this money came from? It’s a freaking million dollars.”

What the hell? It felt intrusive to listen, not that I had any choice in the small space we occupied. I waved then pointed to indicate that I could pull over, but Rory shook her head.

For several minutes, she let the caller continue, only interjecting periodically with the occasional protest. I kept my mind on the road to Inverness, our route taking us past the city before we headed out into the countryside once more.

The whole while, my mind spun over the subject of Rory’s call.

When she finally hung up with a mildly aggressive tap of her finger, I was bursting with impatience.

“Of all the idiotic, ignorant businesses,” she blurted. Then she peeked at me. “Sorry, you have no clue what’s going on. About ten days ago, when I was travelling over here, someone put money into my bank account. And the bank won’t take it back or tell me who it belongs to.” She shook her head, her dark curls springing. “And this isn’t some random figure. It’s a million dollars. Sitting there in an account I haven’t used in a while.”

“Holy fuck,” I said. “And the bank manager decided they can’t help ye with it?”

She dropped her face to her hands. “Yes, exactly. From their point of view, the money is exactly where it should be. Someone purposefully put it there, and there’s nothing they can do to reverse the transaction or take it back.”

“Have you done your own investigations on who that might be?”

“Not so much. I don’t know anyone who has that amount of money. So it has to be random. A mistake, you know?”

“Yet they had your bank account details.”

Rory opened and closed her mouth. “They did. That’s what the bank manager kept telling me. That there was no error in the transfer. The money went exactly where it was meant to go. I hadn’t even thought about people I actually know.”

“Sure, because you weren’t expecting money. Who has those bank account details?”

She stared for a moment. “Let me think. The account was one I used at college. I opened it so my roommates and I could put all our rent and bill money into one place and pay it from there.”

“How many roommates were there?”

“Three junior year. Wait, four because someone switched. Then another three senior year. Oh, but if I think about it, I sometimes used that account for other shared costs, like parties or events. I was the social person of the group so I didn’t mind collecting in money and organising things.”

“Write all these names down.” I pointed at the glove box. “Pen and paper in there.”

Rory did as I asked, writing a list of names. “Shit, I’m going to add a few boyfriends to the list, too. I never gave out my personal checking account details, so anyone who owed me money would’ve paid it into here.” She scribbled down more names then regarded the page. “This is so weird. My sister created a list just like this to work out who was blackmailing her. But for me, it’s the complete opposite— benevolent rather than malevolent. Surely one of these people didn’t just gift me the money.”

I considered the point. “Probably not. But it’s more likely to have come from someone who had your details than a stranger, so this is a better starting place than the bank gave ye.”

“You can say that again. They’re only worried if it’s stolen money. So what do I do now? Just hit up my old friends and ask if they’re missing any cash?” She tapped her phone, constructing a message. “Fiona, long time no speak. Did you move any money over to our old college house account? Love ya, Rory.

“Hold up, don’t say there’s money in there or you’ll get people wanting a cut. Imply it’s a bill.”

“Got it. Have you had anything to do with my old college bank account? I got a notification from the bank I wasn’t expecting.

“Perfect.”

She sent it, then giggled. “This is not what I imagined I’d be doing on a road trip with you, Maddock.”

My muscles tightened, and that familiar surge of attraction rolled through me once more, so strong that I couldn’t stop my words. “If there’s something else you’d like to do instead, I’m all yours.”

“I bet you are,” she muttered with an amused tone. Then she set about sending the same message to all the people on her list.

I drove on, skirting Inverness, traffic heavier around the city. The other side, the heavens opened, a downpour drenching the car. Not that it dented my passenger’s mood. Rory was all big eyes for every interesting thing we passed. Every glimpse of a loch, every expanse of mountain, and she was bouncing in her seat.

I loved this, the excitement of seeing my homeland through her eyes.

“Up where we’re headed,” I told her, “the people become fewer, and the landscape more dramatic. On the coast, it can be harsh living, even if it’s gorgeous there. We’re lucky the really bad weather hasn’t started yet, so you’ll get to see it without freezing your arse off.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me, even as a Californian. I know it’s meant to, and Elise is slowly adjusting to it, but I’d sort of expected it. You just layer up, right?”

Fuck, she was perfect, aside from the fact she lived thousands of miles away and I was trying to prove shite to my absent brother.

My next sentence emerged before I even had a chance to consider what I was asking. “Ye said boyfriends earlier, then ye added a few names to the list.”

“Was that a question?”

I raised a shoulder. “Just making conversation.”

“Shit, Maddock, no you aren’t. You’re sounding me out. Yes, I’ve had a lot of boyfriends. I enjoy that kind of company. And no, there’s currently no one in that role.”

Ah Christ. I needed to know what ‘that kind of company’ meant, because I had the strongest feeling we’d be compatible in more ways than just easy conversation.

The way she’d looked over my half naked body yesterday without concealing her interest, the slight pressure behind the kiss on the cheek when I dropped her home. It was like an electromagnet was charged up and dragging us together.

“So, are you single?” she asked fast. “I mean, if we’re hedging around this kind of topic, I have the right to the same information.”

My smile spread, and I didn’t try to control it. “Aye.”

“I already knew that. I asked Cameron this morning. They both know I kissed you, by the way.”

Her phone chirped with a flurry of messages, but Rory kept her focus on me.

I sensed it even though I watched the wet road. “That’s why Cam was amused earlier, other than at ye sideswiping me with the ride-along request.”

She huffed and scanned the messages. “Like you object.”

I didn’t. Not at all. Having Rory Westacre in my car was turning into way more fun than I could’ve predicted. And my resolution to keep my hands off her, or her hands off me, was weakening by the second.


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