His to Claim (7 page)

“How were things last between ye and Elaine?”

“None of yer business.” Trevor retorted.

Damian snorted disparagingly as he rose to his feet.

Walking to the louvred window he opened it to the panoramic view of the city below, and spoke, “When ye entered my office, ye ken who I was talking tae? A rather new prospective business acquaintance of ours. He had a good news tae share on a more personal score. A sudden turn of events–o’ernight, I might add–has verra conveniently obliterated all of his lady’s reservations aboot him.”

Trevor couldn’t guess where his brother was leading with that.

Flipping back the wings of his stylishly cut suit, Damian arrogantly slipped his hands into the pockets of his perfectly fitted slacks. “The lass is Elaine, Trevor.”

Trevor felt air punched out of his lungs. “Henry called ye?”

“He was quite ecstatic with this development and wanted tae thank me fo’ persuading Elaine tae go out with him.” Damian let a few cool seconds tick by, then added, “He said she rang him minutes ago and expressed keen interest in meeting him again. Today.”

Turning his head back, his eyes bore into Trevor’s. “Have ye clue what she might want tae say tae him in such a hurry?”

Trevor just glared at him for his mordant remark.

Damian moved to face his wee brother fully. His mouth upturned in a razor sharp wry grin. “Of course, she could have kent he’s far easier tae manipulate than ye could e’er be? As his wife, she might no’ ‘ave as much as ye could give her, but let’s be plain, she would ‘ave
sae
much more than what she lives on right now.”

It was with some amazement Damian watched his younger brother not rise to his noxious bait, but silently swerved to stalk his way out the office.

“Where dae ye think yer going, Trey?”

Without turning to meet those cold blue cynical eyes, Trevor answered, “If ye really ‘ave tae ask Damian, then ye doona really know me.”

“Who’s going tae see the Scotland project through which ye dumped midway?”

“I ‘ave appointed a capable man in charge. It wouldna hurt fo’ me. Though ye can make a short trip there yerself. A change of scene from these four walls might dae ye some good.”

“Elaine deserves better than ye.”

This complete reverse tangent didn’t surprise Trevor as much as the kernel statement giving him unimpeded view of that part in Damian which was still living.

“It’s nice tae see e’erything’s no’ yet dead in ye, Damian. But ken this, Elaine’s got me. And what’s mine, whether deserved or no’, I doona give away.” Trevor ceded his profile to his brother. “I wonder if there’s someone out there, who can thaw that Fortress of Ice in yer chest. Until then, enjoy yer cold pride in all its solitude.”

Damian watched the door close behind his wee brother. Today he had seen a transition in Trevor that signified his becoming a man unto himself. No longer he needed an older brother watching his back.

Damian’s respect for his brother as a man grew, even if he didn’t comprehend his obsession with one woman.

To Damian, women were good only long enough it took him to get in and out of them. Whatever the package, between those spread thighs, one was same as the other.

Striding back to his desk, Damian pressed down a button and heard an obsequious male voice buzz through the speaker, “Y..Yes, Mr. McBain?”

“Cancel all my appointments for the next week, Theodore.”

“A..All of them, Sir?”

“Yes, we’re flying to Scotland.”

*****

CHAPTER 9

F
ive
Y
ears
E
arlier

T
he entire house was immersed in melancholy at the sudden loss of its Mistress.

And among the flocks of grimly dressed people congregated there, Elaine’s eyes searched for the one person she somehow knew was hurting more than anyone else.

A loss cannot get more personal than losing someone from your own family.

“Accident is such a horrible way to go.” She heard a woman standing nearby tell her husband with a drink held in her polished fingers.

A group of ladies also exchanged remarks a few paces down that couple. “Valerie McBain was such a strong woman. Altruistic to the bone.”

“She had given her sons good morals.” All but one nodded in respectful deference to the deceased.

“No..” The lady in disagreement, interjected. “Noh, no that second son, Trevor, I hear he’s well on his way to becoming the black sheep of the family.”

What was titillating gossip to these women, was a nasty barb piercing deeper into Elaine. It was all she could do to plaster a smile and see that the buffet tables didn’t run out of light repast offered to all who had come extending condolences.

Damian was on the round performing flawlessly the duty of a host to this informal luncheon after the funeral. When he had wanted Elaine to assume the role of a hostess by his side, she had humbly accepted the honour he accorded her of being acknowledged as an indisputable member of his clan.

But the strain of it all was draining her now.

Everyone around seemed occupied with one or the other topic, surely none would notice if she slipped away for a quick breath of fresh air.

Elaine, leaving behind the oppressive environ, strode through long passages, past puzzled servants to find herself at the back of their house. It was a long, wide open space with verdant vines draping the strong high walls marking the house’s boundaries.

A mingle of male voices had her head snapping to the right where a red Porsche was parked.

Three young men stood there watching her with amusement on their faces, and Trevor in their midst was deadpan in expression.

“Hey baby, lookin’ for me?” One of the three boys trawled for her attention, showing off for his buddies.

Elaine but had eyes only for Trevor. He might not like her, but he couldn’t hide from her the pain looming in his eyes. She hadn’t been fooled by the brusqueness with which he had dropped by to attend his mother’s burial just moments before it would have been too late for him to say goodbye, then acting as though the entire service was a big waste of his time.

The shadow of emptiness, uncertainties, and yearning hounding him couldn’t evade her guileless, probing look.

“Hey!” A peeved face insinuated itself in the line of her vision, scaring her out of her thoughts.

She shrank, backing up a step. It was the same guy who had tried to speak to her a minute ago.

“I’m talking to you, frozen princess. Are you deaf, or something?” He shook Elaine, seizing her upper arm.

The place his hand gripped her bare skin, crawled with disgust of that touch. Desperately, she twisted her arm to loosen it free.

But even if she had a fighting chance against him, Elaine was emotionally yet too bemused with the unexpected passing of the woman who had had given her a roof to call home, there was also the constant struggle with repressing her growing feelings for a boy who couldn’t be more wrong for her, and these factors exhausted her of true grit to fight back.

As it were, the horrible guy scowling down in her face didn’t appear inclined to slacken his hold. She snuffled like a child as agitation and vulnerability began seeping into her frighteningly.

He was starting to enjoy her fear, and she despised herself for this helplessness, then, before her eyes, he flew yards away from her to the hard, unforgiving ground in an ungraceful heap. The shock of watching this unfold was broken when a strong arm snagging Elaine from the waist lifted her clear off her feet and swung her behind the shield of a tall, forbidding back.

It was Trevor. She felt his arm change position to bring her closer behind him. The strength of his hand settled protectively and possessively on the small of her back.

The jagged profile of his face showed fierce rage barely restrained. “If you lay one finger on her again, John, I swear you wouldn’t have any left to show.” And then his snarl deepened in its warning. “And that would only be the start.”

“Fuck, Trey. All you had to do was tell me she’s yours.” John rose from the ground beating dust from his clothes.

Elaine felt Trevor’s whole body stiffen at the rejoinder. The protective hand behind her fell, and so with it faded a sense of shielding security his proximity afforded.

Though she couldn’t see his face, the change in his stance from aggression to one of frigid superiority couldn’t be misread. Even his voice came out cold, absolutely devoid of the anger riding him before.

“She isn’t mine. Just some stray mom picked up to keep her company when she was home, and when she wasn’t, like a ghost the girl haunted this mausoleum.” Trevor indicated the great building standing in front with a detached flippancy. “And since mother had happily taken a dive south, we’re now saddled with her permanently.”

Lobbing keys to another of his friends, he instructed with peremptory brevity, “Get us outta here, Stan.” This was as stark a dismissal as it came.

Without once looking in her direction he slid into the Porsche and others copied his action, except for Stan, who was piqued by Trevor’s behaviour and was now assessing the girl responsible.

It was hard for Elaine to surmise what was going through Stan’s mind. But the insolence in his regard from earlier was no longer there.

“Get in, Stan!” Trevor’s bark galvanised him to scurry into the car. He didn’t waste time then on to drive and pull out from there.

Elaine was shaking.

She recognised it wasn’t for herself that she was so upset, but Trevor.

In pain and confusion, he was like a wounded animal lashing out on anyone who dared come too close to him. And she had always been his favourite target.

Elaine was the one who needed to be the bigger person today.

If only he understood how much she wanted just to comfort him. To be a friend whom he could open up to and not have to pretend that nothing ever fazed his tough persona.

***

T
hat
E
vening

H
anding the Valet the keys to a car Elaine had received as a gift from Mrs. McBain on her seventeenth birthday, she dashed into the lobby of a reputed hotel–the skirt of her knee length peach dress gliding behind her.

A friend of Trevor’s had rung Damian to tell him that, drunk, Trevor was acting out of control. He was taking any and every outrageous bet, and each bet was getting more dangerous than the one before.

But Damian was too inextricably tied with rounding things up their mother’s death had left strewn to make it to Trevor in time. So he had called Elaine on her cell explaining the predicament and she had been more than willing to go in his stead, so much so that she didn’t even wait for Mr. Moore, Damian’s P.A, he was sending to help her manage his brother.

At present, she got into the lift and pressed the button to the rooftop.

The short ride up felt longest ever. When the doors parted, loud music blared into her ears. Under the open evening sky and strings of resplendent lights, bevy of people were laughing, talking, partying.

She looked all around. Couples danced in the centre, some on the sides were busy making out, few in small groups smoked–probably weed from the way they kept laughing for no reason. All appeared the typical college mob, most likely seniors just like Trevor.

An assertive hand on her shoulder startled Elaine.

“It’s just me, Stan. Damian sent you?”

He was the same guy she had seen this afternoon, driving Trevor’s Porsche for him.

Just as she nodded jerkily, he took her hand and steered her farther into the throng of bodies gyrating to the music. After being bumped right and left in their midst, they came upon a swarm of people hooting and chanting one name in a chorus.

“Trevor! Trevor!! Trevor!!”

“What’s going on?” She couldn’t see anything past the live human wall.

Tugging her along, Stan silently waded his way through it. When he reached the other end, he said to her, “See for yourself.”

A bottle of beer in hand, Trevor was precariously standing upon a parapet scarcely half an inch wider than the width of his own foot. An attractive blonde mounted on a bar-stool securely planted on the floor was merrily tying a bandana over his eyes.

What was everyone here thinking?!
Trevor was understandably not in his right mind to know what he was doing, but how could no one else see the inherent danger in this to his life?

“It’s a long way down from there.” Stan remarked. “He wouldn’t listen to any of us.”

By the time Elaine looked back at Trevor, the blonde dismounted from the stool having rewarded her valiant knight with a kiss.

“Walk! Walk! Walk. Walk. Walk!!”

Elaine made to leap in an attempt to stop him from this madness but Stan’s arm bound her to her spot. His voice scantly audible above the ringing in her ears. “It has begun, Elaine. Too late to stop him now. Your slightest touch could set off his balance.”

Heart in mouth, Elaine watched him make progress, step in front of step. Even drunk his coordination was admirable. But how long could he keep this up? She waited, prayed for it to finish without incident.

He had walked half the length of the parapet when disaster struck. Trevor lost kilter. The bottle in his hand slipped to drop thirty floors down.

Unable to see him fall, Elaine screaming his name ducked her head in Stan’s chest.

“He’s all right, Elaine. Look.”

She slowly, fearfully turned to see that Trevor had regained his equilibrium. Sharpest relief jumped her nerves with vitality again. But despite the close call, people still cried for him to go on–he didn’t.

Something had stopped his move. Even as the demands for him to resume grew, he remained still.

“Do you think he heard you scream for him over this crazy uproar?” Stan asked disbelievingly.

Yes, he had to!
Because in the next second he was ripping the bandana from his eyes. As it came off, his sight narrowed on the line of spectators, skimming over them with urgency. Right to left. Left to right. It went past her and Stan, then immediately did a double-take.

Elaine could see for a moment he didn’t believe it was really her. But that disbelief was quickly wiped off from his visage and, an obstinate mask emerged in its place.

She understood, it was in the cerulean hardness of his glance. He was going to continue his foolish stunt! Anxiety building, her gilded eyes brimmed with hot tears.

Please… don’t..
She mouthed to him.
Please..

The dogged look on his face relaxed. And the grin that she got to see next was more than she expected.

“Show’s o’er people.” Trevor pronounced leaping onto safe ground.

When everyone vocalized their disappointment, he shrugged, and stalking towards Elaine said, “Sorry guys, the great Houdini’s aboot tae leave the building..” he let his words hang there, his drunken slur thickening from his Scottish burr.

Once in front of her, he pulled Elaine to him with one hand, and roughly pushed Stan away from her with the other. His smirk wry as he added to his earlier statement, “with a verra bonny lass.”

The crowd dispersed, some heckling as they did so. Elaine looked back and saw Stan disappear with them.

Trevor’s fingers gripped her chin and turned it to him. “Ye look at me. An’ nae one else, Elaine.”

Her phone ringing in her hand saved her from delving too deep into his enigmatic demand.

The screen showed an unknown number flashing.

“Hello?” She spoke, and on the other end was Theodore Moore. “Yes, Mr. Moore. I’m sorry for causing you inconvenience. You can now return and assure Mr. McBain that everything’s fine.” She raised her eyes to Trevor’s, he still had her in his embrace–watching her, amused. “Yeah, I’m taking his brother home now. Yes, goodnight to you too.”

“Rooked tha’ Weasel of another chance tae lick up tae me brother, did ye?” The impish pride shining in his eyes had her flushing to her roots.

Elaine pushed away from him and he, throwing his head back, laughed delighted by her innocent reaction. “I dinna know ye could blush like that,” then he stumbled like a new born colt on his legs.

Refuting her attempts at helping him, Trevor straightened demonstratively. “I learnt tae walk a long time ago, lass.”

“But it doesn’t look like you had much success in the years.”

He glared at her with hostility.

As neither moved, Elaine started feeling the chill in the air. When she had first come to the rooftop, worry over him had made her forget all else. But now, “I’m cold, Trey.”