Ruthless Reign

Chapter 22

Hehurt her.

Knowingit was an eventual possibility and seeing the evidence of Da’s brutality were two very different things. I thought I could keep him from her, but I should’ve known better. As soon as I told him who she was, there was no chance he wasn’t going to use the information to hurt Damien.

Thiswas on me.

Allof it.

Andwhether I survived or not, I owed it to her to try to make things right.

Maagreed with me. It was her phantom words whispering in my ears to finally, finally carve out my own path and detach myself from Da’s shadow.

Optionsweren’t a thing I was ever offered.

Itwas never this or that. Just this and nothing else.

Iwasn’t fool enough to think that the Saints would take me in. But she wanted me to stay. Gave me a choice.Mo mhuirnín.

Itwas enough. More than enough.

AsI walked down the narrow walkway lined with storage lockers, I let the entire evening roll off my back, letting my mask slide back into the place. The mask of SéamasO’Sullivan’s son.

IfDa knew what I’d done at Gilligan’sFinch and suspected me of more it could only mean one thing that he hadn’t confronted me yet: he wanted to make it a spectacle. I had no doubt he would kill me himself. As his blood, he wasn’t likely to draw it out. My death would be swift, but it would come. And it would serve as a reminder to every one of his followers that there was nothing that could exempt them from his wrath.

Nonewould even consider disloyalty after he was through with me.

Iwondered if this was what he had planned for me all along. Ever since I was a boy and he realized that no matter how hard he tried, I couldn’t seem to give up that one last piece of myself to him.

Thepolished silver of Ma’s clover charm necklace warmed between my fingers as I brought it to my lips for a kiss, promising her the vengeance she never got for the life that was stolen from her.

Iwouldn’t be able to get close to Da, not now that he knew I couldn’t be trusted, but I could make things harder for him before I was finished.

Tomy knowledge, this warehouse was where we were storing the majority of our ammunition. IfI could destroy it, it would take Da time to replenish before he could mount any sort of major attack against the Saints. He could pick them off, but there could be no outright war until he replaced what was destroyed.

Andthat might be difficult, considering I just slipped a tip to the new police chief indicating where he might find over twenty bars of stolen Irish gold buried in the canyons. It was Da’s failsafe in case things went black. I might not know his current movements, but I knew he wouldn’t have touched the gold yet. Not with the watchful eyes of SantaClaritaPD tracking his every movement for the Saints.

Itfelt…liberating.

Evenwith my gut churning at every step I took away from him and toward something better.

Iwas raised to be a good soldier. A good son.

Thebetrayal didn’t sit with me easily. It felt wrong. LikeI was hurting myself instead of him.

Butthen I had only to remember her face. The bruises. The cuts. The pain in her eyes where the normally warm brown of her irises had somehow turned dull and distant.

I’dfix it.

Thiswas how.

Thelargest storage locker at the very end had a sliver of light coming from beneath the metal roll-up door. AsI drew nearer, I heard the low hum of Gaelic conversation on the other side. The metallic clicking of bullets being loaded into magazines. The smell of cold steel and gunpowder.

Ikicked the base of the door and the whole pane wavered.

“Open the fucking door,” I said in a deadpan tone despite the surge of adrenaline licking up my spine and stinging in my fingertips.

Therewas a pause and my hand twitched toward my gun, but then the lock clicked and the door rolled up noisily to reveal Angus and Tommy in the middle of packing up.

Theyhad everything loaded onto pallets in neat stacks, ready for transport.

“Aodhán,” Tommy said, not bothering to hide his surprise at seeing me. I was Da’s quiet assassin. His ace in the hole when everything else failed. I didn’t coordinate transport or pass along orders.

“Is there a problem?” Angus asked, pushing his long brown hair away from his face as he tried to see down the corridor behind me as if he expected Da to slip from the shadows with his next breath.

“There is now.”

Theydidn’t have time to react. Neither could do more than widen their eyes and part their lips before the bullets meant for their heads struck flesh and bone, their bodies slumping to the ground as the silenced shots rang in my ears.

Iclosed the storage room door, careful to step around the pool of Angus’ blood that was going to start leaking out into the hall in seconds.

Ittook longer than it should’ve to find the C4, and even longer to rig it as I kept stripping fuses. Angus and Tommy’s radios had chirped four times already, the three beep check-in code coming in every couple of minutes now instead of every thirty.

Theywould be coming.

Theycould already be here.

Bythe time everything was set, I knew I wouldn’t be making it out without a fight and reloaded with a fresh clip, so I took Tommy’s gun as a spare tucked into the back of my jeans.

Itook a moment to center myself, breathing deeply, filling my lungs, blowing out the nervous tension the way Da taught me until there was only the weapon, and me, only an extension of it.

Timeto go.

Itapped the timer switch on the side of the hub and numbers blinked to life on the small screen. Five minutes.

Enoughtime to get out and stop anyone from coming in to disable it.

Iset another timer on my phone and wrenched the door open, stalking out into the hall, skin tingling over my shoulders and down my back.

Bootedfeet, thirty feet and closing.

Rightcorridor.

Iflattened myself against the edge of the wall, counting the footsteps. Five men.

Noneof them Da.

“Spread out,” one growled in Gaelic and the men dispersed.

Twocontinued up the hallway toward me, and I waited until the worn black toes of their boots were visible as I stepped into my territory before slinking into the space behind them.

Twoclean slices to the backs of their knees. Two more bullets before a sound could pass their lips.

“This way!” someone called, and I whirled, narrowly dodging a shot meant for my chest from one of our newer soldiers.

“Disable only,” Pauly, my da’s closest man, growled from the other end of the hall as he and the other began to box me in. “Séamas wants the little rat alive.”

SeemedDa wasn’t keeping my secrets for me anymore. More’s the better.

“I don’t want to kill you, Pauly,” I told him. The others were bloodthirsty savages on their good days and far worse things on their bad ones. ButPaulyI’d known since I was eight. He had a mean streak to rival even Da’s, but he was a fair man who believed in taking an eye for an eye and nothing more.

Didhe know Da hurt Becca without provocation?

Wouldhe care?

Isupposed the opinions of dead men wouldn’t matter to anyone.

“Your da wants to talk to you, boy,” he said in an even tone, keeping his weapon trained on me.

“When does it end, Pauly?”

“When he says it ends.”

Ishook my head, catching the reflection of the man behind me getting too close. Hearing the other one approaching quietly from the only other exit path.

Theone behind me made a run for it and I fired without turning, using the reflection to my advantage. He went quiet as his body slumped to the floor.

Pauly’shand tightened on his gun, his knuckles turning nearly as white as his bared teeth.

“Traitor,” he shouted, the tremble of rage clear in his voice.

Ilifted my gun and his expression shifted, exposing the fear he was trying to hide.

“Da gave you orders to bring me in alive, Pauly. You can’t kill me. But there’s nothing stopping me from killing you.”

“Do it then, huh?” he sneered at me, tossing his gun to the floor. “Go on, boy, do it.”

Iflinched.

Thiswas it: the exact thing Da tried to train out of me. My mercy.

“I’m leaving Pauly, and you should, too.”

Welikely had less than two minutes before the C4 blew and at least another twenty meters before we could be even remotely safe from the blast.

Hewidened his stance. “I can’t let you do that.”

Ithrew down my weapon and charged for him. The others I could end without blinking, but Pauly…

Hedeserved a fair fight.

Paulymet me stride for stride and we clashed in a fury of knuckle and bone. He clipped my chin with a stunner before I could dodge it, but my shot to his stomach had him doubling over.

Whenhe came up, I was ready with a fist, but his eyes widened at something behind me. “Don’t interfere!”

Butit was already too late. The shot exploded in the air and I lurched forward from the impact. My brain taking seconds I didn’t have to catch up to the pain in my shoulder.

Pauly, ever the man not to let an opportunity go unmissed, used the opening to take me to the ground. A booted foot connected with my back. Another with my ribs. I coughed, wet and hard, trying to catch my breath as Pauly tried to keep the other Son from continuing his assault.

“He’s done! He’s done! Help me get him up.”

Butthe bastard took one more shot for good measure, the hard toe of his boot connecting with the side of my head hard enough for my vision to go dark, returning in splotches through the ringing siren in my head.

No. Not in my head.

Myphone rang loud in my inside pocket and I spat blood, gasping to get the words out. “Thirty s-seconds,” I choked out.

Paulygrabbed me by the front of my coat, shaking me, his blue eyes intent on mine, wide and red veined. “What have you done?”

Itasted the copper on my tongue as I smiled. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“Go!” Pauly hissed at the Son with him. “Disable it.”

“He won’t make it.”

AndI doubted the poor bastard even knew how. He was running right into the grave and he hadn’t even thought about it. So willing to give his life for the cause. ForDa.

Paulylifted me from the floor, and I let him as the air returned to my lungs and the black spots cleared enough from my vision to see. “I’m taking you to your Da.”

Whenhe went to drag my arm over his shoulder, I used his own momentum against him, fingering the blade from my belt to bury it between his second and third rib, angling the sharp edge upward.

Hespluttered, releasing my arm, staring between me and the blade. “I’m sorry, Pauly,” I told him as he fell to his knees. “I can’t go back. Not anymore.”

Iturned away, stumbling, half blind and half deaf, praying I could get far enough before the C4 tore this building to shredded metal ribbons and me with it.