Page 32 of Midnight Mooring

“What the fuck is wrong with them?” Torin glowered around at the harbor as if searching for the people who had insulted me. When his gaze locked on something, I followed it and my stomach flipped nervously.

Forde.

He’d stepped out of the bakery and caught sight of us. His overalls were half off and tied around his waist, revealing a grease-stained band T-shirt that strained around his biceps.

Since Aberdeen, I’d barely spoken to Forde.

He’d tried plenty to get me to talk to him. To see him.

But I was intent on avoiding him and when I put my mind to something, I usually succeeded. That didn’t mean I wasn’t riddled with guilt about it. I’d even missed his birthday a few weeks ago, and I’d never missed his birthday. Even when I was mad at him.

Now Forde strode toward us and my heart raced even harder than it did when Torin flew at Roddy.

Just as he was seconds from reaching us, I turned to Torin. “I forgot I need to get to Stòr before the tide goes out. I’ll be in touch. And thanks again.” I bolted before Torin could speak.

“Cameron …” Forde frowned as I passed him.

“Places to be!” I waved before hurrying away.

15. Forde

That was it. My patience had finally reached its fucking limit as I watched Cameron run away from me down Main Street.

I whipped around to glare at Torin, even though it wasn’t his fault. “Where is she going?”

“She said she needed to get on Stòr before the tide went out.”

Liar. My huff of annoyance was cut off at the sight of Roddy lying sprawled unconscious against the wall of the Lantern. “What the …” I took a few steps toward him.

“Aye, that was me.”

I glanced back at Torin. “What?”

Fury flashed over Torin’s expression. “That auld bastard called Cammie a slut and a cunt. I knocked him out.”

My cheeks turned hot with a fury that matched his. “Explain.”

He bluntly relayed what had happened in the Lantern. I glowered over at my so-called uncle. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Do you know him?”

“Unfortunately. He’s married to my mum’s sister.”

“He’s a prick.”

“He’s more than that. He’s a dead man.”

“I really don’t have a leg to stand on since I punched him, but he’s not worth the prison time.”

Suspicion flickered through me followed by burning, ugly jealousy. I narrowed my eyes on Montrose. “Why did you punch him?”

“No one talks to a woman like that.”

“Or Cameron specifically?”

Montrose studied me. “What’s between you two?”

“What do you mean?”