“No one knew,” Robyn said that night. “None of us had a clue, so stop blaming yourself.”
“Shouldn’t I have known? I’m the one who slept with her. Not to mention it’s my business to know what’s going on with my members’ careers. I should have been paying more attention. If I’d known what was happening to Lucy’s career, maybe—”
“Lachlan, Lucy was an amazing actor. We just didn’t realize she was acting with us. As for her career, I’m sure if any of your members knew what was happening to her, they also knew how close you two were and would very deliberately not gossip in front of you.”
That was probably the truth. But it didn’t make him feel any better. “What do you think will happen to her?”
“What do you want to happen to her?”
He thought on it carefully, trying to separate his rage from his guilt. “I want her to pay for what she’s done here … but I also want her to get the help she needs.”
“Me too.”
Lachlan gestured to her, and she’d crossed his room to slide onto the bed next to him. He pulled her against him and held her.
He’d held her all night. And in the morning, he’d gone into himself, trying to process the whole thing with Lucy. His distance hurt Robyn. Another thing he had to make up to her.
A knock at his office door brought his head up. “Come in.”
Mac strode into the room, and Lachlan straightened in his chair.
Things between them had been strained after his and Robyn’s breakup, and they hadn’t quite returned to normal. Lachlan hated it. “Mac.”
His head of security nodded and gestured to the chairs in front of Lachlan’s desk. “May I?”
“Of course.”
He settled in with casualness and studied Lachlan through his low-lidded gaze.
“What is it, Mac?”
“We had to call the police. A couple of paps scaled the front gate.”
He raised an eyebrow. “They’re getting desperate.”
Lucy’s attack and plot with Fergus had made the global news. It wasn’t the kind of worldwide recognition Lucy planned for, but she had it now, anyway. She wasn’t granted bail by Police Scotland and was currently in jail until the case went to trial. Lachlan’s (and now Robyn’s) lawyer warned it was more than likely Lucy would either plead insanity or take a plea bargain to avoid going to trial. Robyn thought Lucy wouldn’t want the world to know the details of the case—she wanted fame, not notoriety—and would take a plea bargain.
Lachlan wasn’t sure about anything when it came to Lucy.
But the journalists and paps had descended on Ardnoch like vultures, trying to get the scoop on any bit of information about the case the world didn’t know yet. They’d been hassling Brodan who was in a furor because he was contractually obligated to finish shooting his current film when all he wanted to do was come home to Ardnoch to make sure his family was okay.
The paps followed Arrochar and Thane again. Lachlan hated the bastards. Always had. They were one of the reasons leaving Hollywood behind had been such an easy goddamn decision.
“It’ll die down,” Mac said, reading his expression. “Something else will take their interest in a few days.”
He nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”
His friend narrowed his eyes at his flat tone. “You can’t bury all this shit, Lachlan. You have to talk to someone about how you’re feeling. Pushing people away will only make things worse.”
“I’m not pushing anyone away.”
“So how do you think wee Eredine is coping? Her close friend psychotically tried to murder a man she considers a brother and a woman she’s come to care about.”
Lachlan flinched at the word psychotically as much as the thought of Ery, whom he had neglected. “We don’t know if Lucy is psychotic.”
“Fine. But let’s not get off page here. Eredine won’t leave her cabin. I finally spoke to Arrochar, and she’s on her way there now to try to talk with her. If anyone can help her, it’s Arro.”
Feeling guilty for ignoring Ery, he could only nod.
“Speaking of your siblings, they’re worried about you, and you won’t talk to them.”
“I’ve been busy trying to keep my club together.”
“And what about Robyn?” Mac said her name with such sharpness, it felt like the crack of a belt across his skin.
Lachlan glared at his friend.
Mac returned the expression. “It’s been a week. You’ve ignored her phone calls, avoided her when she’s been on the estate.”
He swallowed. “I just … need time.”
His friend heaved a sigh. “Lachlan … I’m a man.”
“I did notice that, thank you.”
Mac ignored his sarcasm. “There was nothing any man, no matter how capable or strong, could have done after taking a blow to the head like that. And perhaps you could’ve gotten out of rope bindings, but he’d twined your arms through the metal of that chair before handcuffing you. Add to the fact that you had a bad concussion and your faculties weren’t all there … there wasn’t a lot you could do.”