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renee-writer · 4 years

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Redeem My Soul Chapter 12 The Whole Truth

As they head back towards Edinburgh and their new life's, she knows she needs to come fully clean with him. “Jamie, you need to know about Frank.” We raises his eyebrows. “Randall, yah he was a relative of Jonathan, or Black Jack, a cousin. We were together until one of his girlfriends killed him, for cheating. That is when Jonathan came in. He promised to protect me. You know how that ended. So many men have come in and out of my life. My Uncle's Lamb and his lover Raymond. To trust is hard. I trust you. Do not make me ever regret it. Always be honest with me.”

“Oh Claire, I will never hurt you. But I need to tell you something that Colum may try. I told you that I will have to pretend to be a part of his web of ladies of the night and drugs. Well, there is a specific lass who I believe he will use to lure me back in. A lass I was to marry, Geneva Duscany, daughter of William Duscany. You may know his reputation as a Playboy, sleeping with both men and women. He has many children but Geneva is his favorite. He has given my uncles a lot of money. His princess wanted me so she got me. As I said, we were to be married. She was pregnant and gave birth before we were married. The baby wasn’t mine.”

“I’m sorry. How did you find out?”

“She gave birth to an Asian lass. A sweet baby I privately call, Faith. As the baby, even though she was placed in an orphanage, gave me Faith I could work my way out of the mess I had made out if my life. You see Claire, I fell in love with the baby before she was born. So even though she wasn’t mine, I still wanted to be her da. One of the reasons I started working with John, to make myself worthy of her.”

“Oh my love. Let’s finish this and go get your daughter.” They had stopped in front of the safe house. He looks at her with teary eyes.

“Christ Claire, that is one reason I love you so much. You really care about how I feel.”

They enter the house to find Murtagh with a tall red headed man. “Jamie, Claire, this is Sam Heughan, the man we hired to play you.” Claire examines him. It could work. His hair was obviously tied but looks enough like Jamie to fool those watching.

Jamie was also studying him. “This could work Mr. Heughan, you will need to put on some more muscle and will need a wig. No way your hair will take dying it my red long term. What other acting jobs have you done?”

“Just got done filming Island of War, have done A Very British Sex Scandal and Midsummer Night for the telly.”

“Well this job will be different. You will be playing me. Need to be seen moving in and out of my flat, heading to work at the police station. I will be doing my own impersonation to see some bad people brought to justice and protect the woman I love. If we both do our jobs, justice will prevail.”

“Sounds good. When do need me?”

“Around two weeks. Go spend some time at the gym and get a good wig.” Claire watches them talk and thinks they look like an older brother talking with a younger. Sam has a baby face to Jamie's slightly more rough weathered look.

“Grand job. Now about Claire. You will start back to work on Monday. Willie will be driving you there and back and you will be pretending to be dating. Jamie you will sneak back into the house through the hidden back door. That way no one will know that you are together and we keep the illusion.”

“Works.”

“We are all still using burner phones to communicate. We will get you one Sam. You will also need some of Jamie's scars. We will get make-up on it.” He says with a chuckle. “Okay guys that is all for now. We will get out of your way.” They leave.

“So what do you think? Can he play me?”

“Well, he is baby face cute but I would have to kiss him to really tell.” She teases him.

“Oh, are you laughing at me lass?” He says with a smile in his eyes.

“Yes.” She cheekily replies.

“Then you will get what you deserve.” Declared as he lifts her up and carries her back to their room, depositing her on it before starting to kiss her all over.

Meanwhile

Colum looks over at Geneva. “So, can you get him back into the fold?”

“Maybe, but he was quite upset when he found out Willoughby was the baby’s dad. I really didn’t know. We only had that one time, really one night. He was very…”

“Please don’t need those details. Can you get him back?”

“If I can’t, the brat might. I know where she is. Can use that.”

“Good, because I need him. You will meet him in Edinburgh in two weeks. I will sent you the address and meet him myself in a month. I expect him to welcome me.”

Northern Scotland

John and Hector approach a old house in the Highlands. A lady with red curly hair answers their knock.

“Ma’am, I am John Grey and this is my husband Hector. We have information on your son, Jamie.”

“Jamie, I am sorry but you have the wrong house. Jamie is dead.”

“No ma’am, he isn’t. I am from Scotland Yard. May we come in?” Shocked, she moves aside to let them in.

“My Jamie, he is alive?”

“He is. And we need to talk to you and your husband if you want him to stay that way and get your brothers.”

“Brian!” she calls out and a tall man with dark hair comes up. “These man are from the Yard and they say Jamie is alive.”

“Gentlemen, what is this about my son?”

“Let’s talk.”

#my writing #outlander fanfic #redeem my soul #the whole truth #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #modern au #outlander fandom

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 5 years

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Edinburgh To Boston - Chapter 12 - At The Crossroads - A Deal With The Devil

Good evening all! I am excited to have Chapter 12 of Edinburgh To Boston ready. This is a far, far cry from what I normally write. And it comes with a warning: THE CONTENT IS GRAPHIC. DO NOT READ IF THIS KIND OF THING IS OBJECTIONABLE TO YOU!

I do need to thank @julesbeauchamp @smashing-teacups and @scubalass for being betas on this. I do want to thank @scubalass who called me out on several points of this story. I know this has made the story significantly better overall. She is a “dog with a bone,” and wouldn’t let it go.

As always, I welcome any thoughts, suggestions, comments, respectfully submitted, of course.

I hope you enjoy reading.

Without further delay, for better or worse, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 12 At The Crossroads - A Pact With The Devil

“What the hell are you doing here, Frank?” Claire snarled her nostrils flaring.

“Why Claire, dear, what does it look like I’m doing? I’m having dinner. What do you think I’m doing here?” he said mockingly.

She snorted with derision. “With whom? Another one of your students? Taking advantage of some poor misguided girl?”

“Poor and misguided girl, no. One of my doctoral candidates, yes. We were discussing the best methodology to use in her dissertation. Sandy is a very bright girl.”

Jamie’s head spun from Claire to Frank. The fucking sassenach bastard! Shite, he dropped his guard just for a moment and look at what happened. He needed to put an end to this now. He needed to get Claire away from him.

Frank turned from Claire giving Jamie a cold stare, “You are remiss in your manners pet, you have yet to introduce me to your dinner companion.”

“Don’t call me that!” There was a marked note of threat in her voice.

Standing to his full impressive height, Jamie insinuated himself between the Englishman and his Sassenach effectively shielding her with his body.

Frank briefly staggered leaning into Jamie for balance as he tried to get closer to Claire. That would prove to be an impossibility. An impenetrable mountain-sized man stood guard over her preventing even the meerest of glimpses of her.

Christ, the man stank like a distillery, his eyes were glassy, tie askew, and his balance impaired. Jamie wondered how much the man already had to drink.

He also looked like a man with a chip on his shoulder. A man angry at the world.

His assumed a protective mode, body taut, jaw clenched, hands fisted at his side, ready to keep her safe. “Dr. James Fraser, Dr. Beauchamp’s partner,” his voice husky as he tersely introduced himself.

There was no pretense of civility, no offer of handshakes made. The men took on the aspect of two dogs sniffing each other reading to fight. Jamie’s posture defensive while Frank’s became increasingly aggressive.

“Now if ye will excuse us, we were just getting ready to leave,” Jamie said gruffly and offered his hand to Claire. “Come, lass ‘tis time we leave. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

She took the proffered hand to get up. As she leaned over to reach for her purse, the wrap dropped exposing her whole back.

“Oh, ho! I think this is more than two colleagues simply having dinner together. You do look ravishing my dear,” Frank’s eyes raked over Claire’s body lasciviously. A body that was once his and now it belonged to…? His eyes then went to Jamie’s left hand observing the absence of a wedding ring. He looked at the Scot with contempt, how dare he claim something that was once his?

Her cheeks flushed crimson. What did it matter what he thought or what he thought he knew. The man was of no consequence to her anymore. And after all his liaisons past and present, who the hell was he to judge her?

Jamie helped adjust her shawl covering her once again. He knew that dress would be trouble.

He stood on the periphery of his limits struggling to control his anger. He needed to hit something or better yet someone. But, he did not want to cause a scene in the restaurant in front of Claire. Christ, he wanted to wipe that lecherous look off the arsehole’s face.

“Are ye ready, Sassenach?” Jamie asked tenderly as he turned to walk toward the front of the restaurant wanting to sign for the bill and return to the sanctuary of their room.

“Yes, let’s go. It’s been a long day,” She sighed.

“I guess this is it then. This is goodbye, Claire.”

Claire ignored Frank wanting to not have anything further to do with him. She turned and started to walk away.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Beauchamp? Think you’re better than me? You and your uncle always acting like you were better than anyone else, especially me. I’m talking to you, Claire,” he raised his voice causing the other patrons to turn and look. Frank grabbed Claire’s shoulder, spun her around to face him. She could feel his sweaty palm on her skin as he firmly seized her. He leaned in close enabling her to smell his fetid alcoholic breath skim hotly across her cheek.

It was obvious that he was drunk. The memories flooded back in a torrent. He often became hostile and threatening, even to the point of becoming physically abusive when he was deep in the drink. It had been years since she had seen him like this, morose and surly.

He had failed to make tenure and came home drunk. Of course, he blamed Lamb for his failures. He always did. Needless to say, she would be the one to pay the price. He demanded sex from her. “You like it rough, don't you, darling,” as he dragged her up to the bedroom. Frank threw her against a wall tearing at her clothes. She fought back but he was too strong. Naturally, he apologized the next day. “So sorry, old girl. I was drunk...pressure from work...the stress...a man needs the comfort of his wife in times like this...it will never happen again.” Yeah, you got that right. It will never happen again. He kissed her bloodied lips before he left for work leaving in a chipper mood like nothing had ever happened. Rising from the bed, she went to her closet. As she tugged her suitcase out of the closet, she dislodged a box that contained the love letters from his students. She took her few meager possessions and the box of letters. Battered and bruised, she left her home for what would be the last time for the safe haven she had with her Uncle. She never told anyone else other than Lamb what had happened. She never would.

She wanted to turn and leave just walk away from him now forgetting the whole ugly sordid mess that had been her time with Frank. But her loyalty to Lamb commanded her to stand her ground defending him against this pissant.

“DON’T. YOU. DARE. Lamb loved you like his own son and you betrayed both of us. Let go of me this instant you fucking sod.” Claire growled trying to pull her shoulder out of his grasp, but his grip tightened. For a man well into his cups, he was quite strong.

“I betrayed you and your uncle?! How little you know,” his voice dripped with sarcasm. “He wouldn’t share his research with me, hmm. Yes,” his speech slurred and he swayed slightly. “He said I had to earn the right to have it. I thought he meant all I had to do was marry you. But I was mistaken,” he laughed nastily. “You were a cunt then, and you’re still a cunt now. That’s all you were good for was a good fuck.” Frank drew closer narrowing the gap between them. His open hand familiarly cupped the space between her thighs, a part of her body that he once intimately knew. He stroked, squeezed and kneaded her like she still belonged to him. “You like that don’t you, bitch.”

Claire gasped, crying out, “JAMIEEE!”

Jamie turned his head and realized that Claire failed to follow him. He saw that mac na galla grabbing and touching her in a way no man wants to see happen to his woman.

“C L A I R E!” he bellowed in a hoarse angry voice. Christ, would no one go to help the lass?

Bystanders, diners, wait staff, were all stunned into inaction watching the tableau unfold around them not able to believe what their eyes told them.

With eyes narrowed dangerously, mouth grimly set, he pushed his way through the crowd recklessly. He must get to her. Waiters carrying heavily laden trays with dinners were knocked out of the way. Food flew about, dishes and silverware crashed to the floor, sending shards of china everywhere.

He watched Claire fighting and struggling with Frank. Taking her purse, she struck him about his head then clawed at his face. She kicked his ankle and stomped on his foot.

That’s it, lass, gie it to him. He took pride in how braw she was.

Observing Jamie’s approach, Frank called out loudly, “Had a piece of this yet, Fraser? I’ll bet you have. She likes to fuck and she’s good at it too. If she didn’t become a doctor, she could have made a good living as a whore. Did she ever su..”

Frank never got to finish his sentence as his face became acutely acquainted with Jamie’s fist.

There was something quite satisfying about being able to hear and to feel the nasal cartilage crunch with the impact of his fist. He knew he broke it on the first blow. Blood splattered out of Randall’s nose and mouth. He struck him about the face and eyes. That eye would be swollen shut and black come morn.

He was outside of himself now no longer the kind and gentle giant but a man consumed with rage. There was a blood lust coursing through his veins. A man blind with the need for vengeance. He would deliver blow after blow thus becoming her avenging angel to see justice done in her name. I fight for her.

He pummeled the filthy bastard in a trance-like fury reminiscent of his Viking berserker ancestors. He heard nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing other than the opponent before him.

He did, however, hear the voice of his Da. His Da had taught him how to fight, to defend himself. “Hit him in the soft parts, Jamie. Dinna waste time hitting yer opponent in the face. Ye’ll hurt yerself and no’ be able to defend yerself.” And he did as his father counseled him to do all those years ago. He struck his foe over, and over, and over again.

Slowly a soft musical voice began to cut through the haze in his mind. The voice called his name, told him to stop. The voice soothed him bringing him back. A hand so small, so fragile pulled him away stopping him from inflicting further damage.

Jamie blinked and looked up, not sure of where he was or what he had been doing. He felt weak as a kitten. Looking down, he saw his clothes were a mess splattered with blood, fluids, and wine. Someone called his name. Eyes the color of honey and fine whisky peered into his own.

“Sorcha”. He spoke to her in the language of his forefathers, in the Gàidhlig, for he had no English.

“Come with me, Jamie,” the voice said. And he knew he would follow that voice wherever it took him.

Claire began to issue orders to the wait staff like a drill sergeant. Towels, bowls of ice, antiseptic wash, wooden dowels, tape, a plastic bag, and whisky miraculously appeared. Jamie’s scrapes and wounds were cleansed, each digit, each bone palpated, bringing with it a hiss of pain. The adrenaline and endorphins were wearing off. There were definitely broken bones. How badly broken she couldn’t tell for sure. At least there were no bones protruding from the skin. She used the dowels for splints, taping his fingers together, and placed his hand in a plastic bag sealing it closed.

Smiling at him, she eased his hand into the ice bath to help keep the swelling at bay. She poured him a healthy dram of whisky telling him to drink.

“Moran taing.” He smiled back at her.

Unwillingly, she turned her attention to her former husband. A small blond woman was kneeling cradling Frank’s head on her lap stroking his forehead. She was dabbing at the blood seeping from his nose, wiping more blood from the corner of his mouth.

“You’re Claire, Fran, um, Professor Randall’s ex-wife? I’m Sandy Travers, his doctoral student.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are, my dear,” Claire said brusquely.

Pierre, the maî·tre d'hô·tel paced up and down sweat forming on his brow and lip. He began giving instructions of his own to the staff trying to resume order and business as usual. Guests were moved to empty tables away from the scene. Wine and liquor poured freely. Shit, how many dinners will I have to comp tonight?

“Madam, I must call the police to report this ah, disturbance. I shall call for medical assistance for the gentlemen as well.”

“Pierre, I am Dr. Claire Beauchamp room 702. Before you make any calls, let me finish examining the gentlemen and I will let you know what else needs to be done.” She smiled at him sweetly.

He gave her a quizzical look before acquiescing, “As you wish Madam.”

“Alright Frank, let’s have a look, shall we?”

“Keep your fucking Neanderthal boyfriend away from me,” he said glowering at Claire with his right eye. The left eye had swollen shut and blackened.

“He’s not a Neanderthal. He’s of Viking descent. Now hold still,” she said as she began to poke and prod his face and body.

Jamie had done a thorough job of beating Frank to a pulp. His nose was definitely broken. The orbit might be fractured and she was concerned about the tenderness in the left upper quadrant.

“Does your left shoulder hurt?

“What doesn’t hurt? But, actually yes it does a bit.”

“You need to go to the hospital now. I am very concerned about the tenderness in your abdomen.” Thank goodness his belly was soft, not rigid.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see that fucker in handcuffs for assault and battery.”

“Then you want to call the police to report this?”

“You’re damn right I do!”

“In that case, I assume you are prepared to be arrested too? If you have Jamie arrested, I’ll have you arrested for sexual assault. That was really very careless of you, to touch me that way in front of a room full of witnesses. So many of the women gave me their phone numbers offering to testify as to what they saw you do. Oh, and by the way, I kept all the love letters that your doctoral candidates sent you. It will make for very interesting reading in court showing your sexual inclination. Don't you think? Are you ready to be branded as a sex offender?”

“Claire, you wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I just do that, pet,” she said caustically lightly patting him on the cheek. “It would give me great pleasure to ruin you, just like you ruined me and hurt Lamb. So, what’s it going to be, darling?”

Sandy looked from Claire to Frank. Her mouth open, her eyes wide with shock.

“Fr, Fr, Frank what does she mean by this? You told me I was the one you loved and there was no one else.”

“Oh, shut up, Sandy,” he snarled.

“You have a deal, Claire. No police. Just get me to a hospital. I’m not feeling well.”

“One more thing, you will never bother me or Jamie. There will be no contact, no threats of going back on your word ever, do I make myself clear? And you will stop using your students as your personal playthings. If you break any of these promises, I will make sure Dean Innes knows the reason why we divorced. Did you know that Innes was a close personal friend of Lamb’s? No, I don’t believe that you did. He always wondered what caused our breakup. If you break your promise, I will make sure Innes knows what your academic counseling includes. I think he would find reading the love letters quite informative. I am no longer the meek and obedient child you once knew Frank. I will ruin you and enjoy doing it,” she smiled contemptuously.

“Excuse me Dr. Beauchamp, but I think I am going to be sick. I have to go.” Sandy lifted Frank’s head off her lap, laid his head down gently and stood up uneasily.

“I am sorry that you had to hear this my dear, but it is for the best.”

Sandy shakily nodded her head and left.

Claire gently propped up Frank’s head. “I’m going to call Joe Abernathy to make arrangements for your admission. He’ll admit you discreetly.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Abernathy too, Claire? Is there no end to your crass friendships?”

“You are a true elitist, Frank. Perhaps you would like for everyone to know what happened?”

“Call Abernathy, then. Be quick about it, I don’t feel well.”

And he didn’t look well at all. He began to develop a noticeable pallor. Skin becoming slightly sweaty. She was afraid that he might be going into shock and commanded blankets to wrap him up in.

She quickly scrolled through her contact numbers finding the one she needed.

“Joe Abernathy,” answered the male voice.

“Joe, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Lady Jane is that you?” he said with a wide grin on his face. “Where are you?”

“I’m here in Boston. I was supposed to be at a conference, but it was canceled at the last minute because of the blizzard.”

“Conference? I don’t recall...well anyway, good to hear your voice. What can I do for you?”

Claire proceeded to tell Joe about what happened and how she needed his help.

“LJ, you can’t be serious about this. The man molested you. You need to have him prosecuted for this especially after everything he did to you.”

“I can’t risk Jamie’s career. He’s a brilliant surgeon and I won’t have it. Not on my account anyway. Besides Frank had to promise to stop using his doctoral students as sex objects in exchange for my promise to not prosecute him. If I can stop him from hurting anyone else, my silence is well worth it. Joe, please, will you help me?”

“Of course, I will. What about Jamie, you think he has broken fingers?”

“I do, I have splinted them. Now all I have to do is convince him to go to the hospital. They may need to be set.”

“I’ll send an ambulance. See you in a little while.”

“Thanks, Joe.”

“Frank, the ambulance will be here soon.”

He grunted. “Is he coming with us?”

“No, you’re coming with us. Let’s get that straight. There is no you and me, Frank.”

“One more thing before you go, Claire.”

“What is it?” she said in an exasperated tone.

“I’ve been watching you with him all night. What is it that you find so appealing in him?”

“He’s a man, something you know nothing about.”

She turned on her heel and began to walk back toward Jaime.

Now all Claire had to do was to convince one very large and recalcitrant Scot to go to the hospital.

“Lord, give me strength,” she prayed.

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 12 #At the Crosroads: A Deal With the Devil #outlander fanfiction #My writing #Here Goes Nothing #julesbeauchamp #smashing-tea-cups #scubalass

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