Arro walked into him, burrowing against him in a way she hadn’t since she was a wee girl.
He felt a burning in his eyes as he embraced her, knowing he probably held her too tight but was unable to loosen his arms. Someone had beaten his sister, and not only had Lachlan not been there to protect her but he’d had a civil conversation with the bastard that very morning.
Yesterday he’d been screwing around with Robyn, and his sister was holed up in her house.
Scared.
And beaten.
“Tell me what happened,” he whispered against her hair.
Arrochar eased away from him, eyes lowered to the ground as she motioned to the kitchen.
Lachlan tried to be patient as she forced him to wait until he’d made a fresh pot of coffee.
“It was after the ceilidh,” she finally divulged as she sat down with him at the dining table. “He seemed fine at the Gloaming. Drunk, but fine. But he was quiet on the walk back to my place. Then it all just came at me as soon as we stepped in the house.”
“What did?” He tried not to imagine it. His sister alone with that bastard, no clue what was about to happen. That there was no one there to protect her.
Arro licked her lips nervously and stared past him out the window. “Apparently, I spent all night flirting with Mac, which is ridiculous. It’s Mac, for goodness’ sake. Guy has gotten it into his head there’s something going on between us. Can you believe that? He started yelling about my behavior when Mac was attacked. I told him he was wrong. It’s Mac. He’s … he’s … family. And I’d never cheat.” Now she looked at him. Right in the eye. “I’d never cheat, Lachlan.”
He knew she wouldn’t.
Disloyalty wasn’t in the Adair blood. “I know, sweetheart.”
Anger flooded her features. “I called him an arsehole and he pushed me into the wall. I lost my temper and pushed him back and told him to get out and never call me again. Then all this rubbish started pouring out of him, how I always made him feel like an outsider, like he wasn’t good enough, that I thought I was better than him, that I was an untouchable Adair.” She blinked back tears. “I don’t even know what that means. It was like listening to a petty little boy on the school playground trying to tear me down because he was jealous of me. Ridiculous and immature. My reaction wasn’t very nice. I laughed at him and said he was pathetic … and that was the wrong thing to do.”
Lachlan studied her face, hot blood causing a haze in his mind that he was trying very hard to beat back. “He hit you.”
She pressed a tentative finger to her cheek. “Blindsided me. Hit me so hard, it took me down, and then he climbed on me to hit me a couple more times. He only got the other two hits in because the first had shocked me, dazed me. But I got my faculties together, spotted the paperweight on the table, and managed to shove him off me long enough to grab it. When he came at me, I cracked him over the head with it.
“The drink, the hit, it knocked him out but only for seconds. When he came to, it was like he was a different person. Like he couldn’t believe what he’d done. He tried to plead with me, told me he loved me”—she guffawed angrily—“but I told him to get out or I would call the police.”
“You should have called the police,” Lachlan said, trying not to raise his voice.
“I was ashamed.” Her face crumpled and she sobbed, cries that tore through his gut.
Getting out of his chair, Lachlan pulled his sister up and held her while she cried, reassuring her she had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to worry about, that he’d take care of everything.
When he finally felt her cries slow and her body relax, he eased her into her chair and set about making her a cup of the chamomile tea she liked.
“Sorry.” She smiled wearily at him. “For crying like that. I just … I feel stupid. That I didn’t see he had that in him. I should have.”
“Don’t do that to yourself. People have a way of hiding their true selves.”
“Still. I’m sorry.”
“You never have to say sorry.” He brought the hot mug over to her. As she took it in both hands, he said, “You do have to report this to the police, though.”
“Oh, Lachlan, no.” Her denial was instant. “Every time we go to the police with something, we open up the chance of the press finding out. That’s the last thing the club needs right now.”
“Fuck the club,” he bit out. “What if he does this to someone else?”
“Don’t put that on me.” Her lips quivered. “Don’t make me feel bad for not wanting anyone to know about this.”
“Well, I can’t let him get away with it.”
“Lachlan—”
He held up a hand to cut her off. If he couldn’t have the bastard arrested, he’d dole out his own form of justice. “I’m firing him and making it clear he needs to leave the Highlands. Preferably on a plane back to Australia.”
Arrochar nodded. “That works for me.”
Her bruising was starting to yellow, meaning it was healing. Lachlan reached out to caress her cheekbone. “I’ll let everyone know you have a flu bug and that I’m taking care of you. Everyone except Thane.”
“Och, Lachlan—”
“I’m not keeping this from him.”
Her brows furrowed with fierceness. “You’re a pain in my arse. And if you even think about telling Mac—”
“I won’t,” he interrupted her again. “Mac would lose his goddamn mind and try to kill Guy, and while that might be fun to watch, Mac’s not completely over his injuries.”
Relaxing, she sank into her chair. “What are
