Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Nora
T he sounds of the world at war are warbled as they swirl around in my head. People are screaming. My heart is thundering in my ears. Darkness is closing in on my vision.
I can’t breathe. I’m trapped.
The weight pressing on my chest is incredible and I can’t move.
“Look at me, angel. I’ve got you. Deep breaths.”
The rich timbre of the man’s voice soothes the panic clawing at the inside of my chest. I’m not trapped—there’s just a hulking man in a leather jacket lying on top of me. His massive hand cups my jaw and the pad of his thumb brushes lazily over my cheek.
Emerald-green eyes draw me in. He’s not afraid. He’s calm and warm and with me wrapped in his protective embrace, the icy panic climbing my spine eases.
With only inches between our faces, my mind blanks out and I allow myself to get lost in those eyes.
“That’s it. I’ve got you.”
I swallow against the ball of anxiety blocking my throat, the fog of terror easing back in small measure. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Tanya and I…where’s Tanya?”
His expression softens, and he drops his head next to mine and speaks softly against the shell of my ear. “There’s been a shooting. You and your friend were in the line of fire. I wasn’t fast enough to save your friend. I’m sorry, angel, but she won’t be getting back up.”
His explanation falls off his tongue like warm honey, his breath caressing the skin on my neck. It strikes me as odd that such vile words could sound so alluring. “Tanya’s dead?”
He lifts his head, his gaze locked on mine as if he’s studying me. “Aye, she is. I’m sorry.”
“We’re clear,” someone shouts from the other side of the planter.
The stranger lying on top of me moves without hesitation and hoists me off the cold concrete of the walkway. He tackled me behind a planter, but I barely noticed as everything went mad around me.
Upright, my shaky legs buckle the moment I’m on my feet.
Leather Guy pulls me into his arms and steadies me against his solid frame. With my hands on the muscled span of his broad chest, I press my cheek against his jacket and close my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Och, you have nothing to apologize for. You’ve been through a traumatic event. Just keep breathing and give yourself a moment to catch up with what’s happened. I’m plenty strong enough to keep you upright ‘till then.”
I follow his instructions and take another couple of deep breaths, grounding myself in the heavenly scents of pub food, leather, and what’s left of this man’s cologne after a long day. Tanya’s dead. Tanya can’t be dead. We have plans .
So much happened, so fast. He must be mistaken.
I ease back and look up at my protector. He looks so familiar. Why does he look so familiar? “Who are you, again?”
“I’m Brendan.”
My mind is sluggish, but I’m certain he’s got it wrong. Not his name—I have no doubt he knows his name—but the part about Tanya. “She can’t be dead. We’re going to share a pint and celebrate our plan to move in together. Her, Kate, and I…It’s going to be amazing.”
The sharp shrill of sirens brings a strobe of blue and white lights cutting into the darkness of the night.
I cling to Brendan, anchoring myself against the maelstrom coming at us.
He guides me away from the chaos of the street, turning me to shield my view of Tanya lying on the cold pavement. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image is already seared into my mind—her body lying at awkward angles, her pretty purple hair covering her face.
“Look at me, Nora.” Brendan’s finger under my chin tilts my gaze up. The green of his eyes is vivid and intense. “Remember your friend as she was, not how she is right now. Don’t think about it.”
I scoff, my voice shaky. “How can I think about anything else?”
He brushes a stray curl back from my forehead with a tenderness that seems out of place in this moment. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”
My mind stalls on that. “What? Why?”
“It’ll help with the shock. Trust me.”
What makes this guy an expert on shootings and death? Is there some kind of biker summer camp that prepares them for life, like the Boy Scouts? And why would I trust him? Well, maybe because he saved my life?
“Where are you from?” he repeats.
“Born in Galway, raised in the UK, but have lived all over Europe for my da’s job.”
Brendan nods, his thumb still grazing my cheek in a soothing caress. “I’m a Dubliner born and bred. How does Dublin stack up against the other places where you’ve lived?”
The simple question unlocks a torrent of emotions. Until tonight, I would’ve said being back in Ireland felt like coming home. Now…
Garda officers are on scene, stringing up yellow boundary tape as paramedics stride past me, pushing a stretcher. Onlookers are ebbing out of the pub in waves, gathering on the sidewalk. There’s a buzz in the air, but it isn’t at all the same as it was when I left the theater arm-in-arm with Tanya.
Hot tears blur my vision as another rush of anguish hits. A groan escapes my chest, and I can’t seem to stop it.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “This is the worst part. You’ll get through it.”
I don’t see how.
Brendan squeezes my hand and waves a constable over. “Nora, this is Constable Dani Briggs. She’s going to need your statement, and then we’ll get you home.”
The female officer gives Brendan a look and then meets me with a smile. “Are either of you hurt? Do you need to be checked out or go to the hospital?”
Brendan shakes his head. “No, we’re fine. Unless Nora got hurt when I tackled her to the ground. I likely owe you a comfort basket by way of an apology. You’ll be sore tomorrow.”
I wave his concern away. “I’m alive. You have nothing to apologize for.”
The officer looks at Brendan. “Were the two of you here together when the shooting started?”
Brendan fields that question and I’m thankful because my mind is still chugging along like it’s stuck in thick sludge. “No. We met when the bullets started flying.”
The constable turns to me with a kind smile. “Then I’ll need to get a statement from you, privately. Are you up for a few questions?”
I draw a deep breath. “Of course.”
She meets Brendan’s gaze and arches a blonde brow. “If you’ll excuse us? I’ll get your statement once we’re done.”
Brendan nods and flashes me a wink. “I’ll just be over there. Holler if you need anything.” He gives my hand one last reassuring squeeze before melting back into the chaos.
Brendan
I leave the blonde beauty to give her statement to Dani and join Kieran. Seeing the dead girl on the ground and another half-dozen bleeding innocents being tended to has my fists clenched, aching to punish whoever is behind this.
Tag is going to lose his ever-loving mind.
Sean won’t take it much better.
My fury is barely contained beneath the surface as I take in our informant. Petey is down and in a bad way. The paramedics are focused and working full tilt, to stabilize the kid.
Stepping to the side, I square my shoulders and glare at Kieran. “What the fuck happened? Did you have any idea this was a possibility?”
Kieran meets my scowl with his own. “Not a fucking clue. Petey said he had something important, and we needed to meet. I was finishing my smoke, and the next thing I know, bullets were raining down.”
“Did you at least get to talk to him about what he wanted to tell you?”
“No. The lead started flying before we even said hello.”
I study the darkness across the road, squinting as I search for answers. “Where did the shots come from?”
Kieran follows my gaze, his expression hardening. “It could’ve been from anywhere: a unit in one of those buildings, a rooftop, or even from a passing vehicle.”
“Do you think this is the McGuires or Gravely on his own? If rumors hold true, he’s planning on taking his half-ownership of the McGuire territory and running it with or without the approval of Niall and the McGuires.”
Kieran shrugs. “The shit we don’t know could fill a tanker.”
Ain’t that the truth?
I scan the scene and curse the McGuires. We coexisted for decades with minimal spillover of violence. Then Da goes and dies on us and the fucking McGuires start pushing the limits and forfeiting our agreements.
And now, people are getting hurt.
I pull out my phone and call up Tag’s secure line. The last thing I want to do is interrupt his night off with Laine, but there’s no help for it.
Shit like this needs to be addressed quickly.
Meeting Kieran’s gaze, I let out a sigh. “Stay with Petey and if, by some miracle, the kid wakes up, find out what was so fucking important that someone shot up our streets to keep him from telling us. But stick close. I don’t want Gravely taking another run at him.”
“Aye, I won’t leave his side until we know what prompted this avalanche of shite.”
The paramedics have Petey loaded onto the stretcher, ready for transport. One of them lifts his chin and sizes us up. “Are either of you family? We can only allow relatives to travel with the patient.”
Kieran doesn’t miss a beat. “Aye, I’m Pete’s cousin. I’ll be going with you.”
As they wheel Petey towards the ambulance, I catch Kieran’s eye and give him a nod. He knows what needs to be done and will find out what he can before it spirals any further out of control.
I curse the entire situation and tap my finger against Tag’s contact listing on the screen of my cell. It rings twice and then I let out a long breath when he picks up. “Sorry to ruin your evening, brother, but we’ve got a situation.”
After filling my brother in on the shit versus fan situation, I pocket my phone and scan the crowd. The blonde is still with Dani, wrapping up her statement from the looks of it. The flashing lights from the squad cars paint her pale skin in a wash of blue, making her look otherworldly against the dark street.
Dani catches my eye as I approach, her badge glinting where it hangs around her neck. “We’re finished here. Miss Kelly is free to go.” She cocks her head, giving me a look I know all too well. “I don’t suppose you care to share what happened here tonight?”
“I have no clue, but when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.” I flash her my most winning smile. It doesn’t work on her anymore, but old habits die hard.
She rolls her eyes and moves off to speak with the other witnesses, her notebook already in hand.
I turn back to Nora and let my broad frame block out the chaos of the night. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m tired.” She rubs her arms, and then winces and closes her eyes when her fingers find her friend’s blood. “I need to make some calls…but my phone got trampled in the chaos. I can’t even call an Uber.”
As if I’d let her go home in an Uber after the night she’s had. No. I won’t sleep tonight unless I know she’s gotten safely home. “Not a problem. I’ll take you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to, no. I want to. You’ve been through enough tonight. You don’t need to be alone in a stranger’s car with the horrors of the night replaying in your mind.”
The memory of how she trembled beneath me as I shielded her from the chaos is forever etched in my mind.
Despite everything, a weak chuckle escapes her full lips. “Even if you drive me, I’ll still be alone in a stranger’s car.”
I waggle my finger, enjoying how her eyes track the movement. “Wrong on two counts. One, I’m not a stranger. I’m Brendan and I’ve held you in my arms and lain over you, so we are definitely acquainted. And two, you won’t be alone in my car because I’m not driving my car tonight—I have my motorcycle.”
Her eyes widen with wariness, but something else flickers there too—intrigue, maybe. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the spark of unbridled curiosity from a woman who has never wrapped her thighs around a powerful machine.
Good. Because I’m not taking no for an answer.
I grasp her elbow gently and guide her away from the bloody nightmare outside the Confession Box pub. My Harley is parked down the street and as we get closer, the chrome gleams under the streetlights like it’s showing off.
I grab my helmet from where it sits on my seat. “Come here to me, Nora. I swear, I’ll get you home safe.”