Page 87 of The Highland Game

He exhales sharply and shakes his head, droplets scattering from his hair. “You were bleeding badly—barely conscious—and your parents . . .” He pauses again. “Well, they were already gone. When I called for the ambulance, I didn’t know if you’d make it.”

My chest tightens until breathing feels impossible. This isn’t something we talk about. Ever. Don’t get me wrong: that night changed everything between Robbie and me. Before then, he was my brother Ally’s mortal enemy—they could barely be in the same room without trying to start a fight. Naturally, loyalty meant I sided with Ally growing up, but after someone saves your life? Old grudges disappear.

Still, we’ve never spoken about that night—not properly—and suddenly he’s tossing it into the open like it’s no big deal?

Robbie releases a slow breath before continuing. “Your life is precious, mate.” A faint shrug accompanies the statement like even he knows how uncharacteristic the words sound coming out of his mouth. His grip on my arm tightens—not harsh or forceful, just enough to anchor me in place against the pull of whisky-drunk thoughts. “So, like I said, let’s get you out of this rain, eh?”

He steers me towards the nearest bus shelter, and I let him. The rain patters against the arched wooden roof, but at least we’re out of the downpour—though I’m already drenched to my bones.

Robbie leans casually against the shelter’s wall, arms crossed and scrutinising me with eyes that feel like they can peel back layers I’d rather keep hidden. “Right,” he says, his voice low and even. “What’s going on?”

I slump onto the weathered bench, head in my hands. “Everything’s a bloody mess. Maisie . . . the beer garden . . . everything.”

“Maisie Kerr? What’s going on there?”

I huff out something between a laugh and a breath—not quite sharp enough to sound bitter, but nowhere near strong enough to sound okay either. “We’ve been gaming together for months. For a lot of that time, as crazy as it sounds, we didn’t realise we knew each other in real life. Then Maisie figured it out, but she didn’t tell me who she was—not until everything blew up because of the new beer garden.” I shake my head as if that’ll help untangle the knot in my chest. “Then today she posted a video with this guy—some American streamer—and I know I shouldn’t care about that stuff, but . . . God, it stings.”

Looking up, I catch Robbie’s lips twitching like he’s fighting off either sympathy or amusement. Quite possibly both.

“Sounds like you’ve got it bad for her.”

“Maybe. Actually . . . okay, aye, I do.”

“And she doesn’t feel the same?”

“She says we can’t be together because of the beer garden.” The words taste sour in my mouth. “She says it’s hurting her and her da’s pub too much. Even though, on days like today, there’s not a bloody person in the garden.”

Robbie nods slowly, his expression unreadable except for a faint crease forming between his brows. He pushes off from the wall and scrubs a hand through his hair, scattering droplets like tiny pinpricks of rain. “Look, mate,” he says carefully, his blue eyes sharp but honest, “I’m not exactly your go-to guy for relationship advice. I don’t get attached—I’ve no interest in messy feelings tangling me up or business rivalries screwing everything sideways. But your brothers have found love, right? Maybe you should try talking to them. When you’re sober, I mean.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” My stomach churns traitorously, a sharp lurch reminding me just how much whisky is sloshing around inside me.

Robbie clocks it immediately. “Right, let’s get you home before you puke all over your shoes—or worse, mine. Besides, Ally would murder me if I left you out here soaking wet and dripping everywhere.”

I agree, but when I push up from the bench, my legs buckle. Robbie catches me with ease, his arm sliding around my back to steady me. “I’ve got you. C’mon, let’s go.”

Together, we make our way back along Main Street towards the hotel. The rain has eased into a steady drizzle now, soft but relentless. Robbie steers us towards the main entrance, but I say, “No, guests can see me in this state. We need to go around the back.”

He doesn’t argue, just adjusts his hold on me and leads me around the back instead, past the garage in which I kissed Maisie (the memory of it scraping at my ribs like broken glass), then through the gate and into the beer garden. Tonight the sight of it doesn’t exactly fill me with pride. Rain pools on empty tables while fairy lights sway beneath dark skies overhead. It’s a far cry from how it was on opening day.

“I can take it from here,” I say.

“You sure?” Robbie doesn’t loosen his grip just yet, one eyebrow raised in doubt.

“I’m fine,” I insist, wriggling out of his hold and tottering a few unsteady steps to prove my point.

Robbie watches me take a few more steps before relenting. “All right. Go inside and change into something dry before you catch a cold.”

I smirk despite myself. “Didn’t realise you cared so much.”

“Aye, well, I’ve already saved your life once. Try keeping yourself alive from now on, all right?” With a nod, he turns on his heel and strides off into the night.

I make my way towards the rear entrance but falter when my eyes snag on Maw and Da’s bench. The brass plaque catches what little light spills from the hotel windows, its inscription gleaming faintly through streaks of rain: in memory of angus and mairi mcintyre, sorely missed but fondly remembered. Before I know it, I’ve sunk down onto the wet wood.

It’s funny, really. All those days spent setting up this place—hauling furniture around, stringing up lights—and not once did I ever take a break on this particular bench. Ally installed it a couple of years back, and I know he, Lewis, and Cat all use it now and again to have a quiet moment with our parents. Me? I usually steer clear.

But tonight? Tonight it feels like exactly where I need to be.

Rain drips from my hair and trickles down my face—not that it matters much when I’m already drenched. Somehow, though, sitting here feels steadier than wading through the mess in my head. I tilt my head back and close my eyes.