Chapter 27
They shouldn’t have split up.
Onthe surface, breaking into two groups taking two different routes sounded like a good way for at least one group to make it to the destination unimpeded.
But—because there was always a but—if you looked hard enough, splitting up meant less men available to defend in case of an ambush.
Andit had been four days.
Withany luck, my da still wouldn’t have replenished everything I destroyed at the storage unit, but I knew he didn’t believe in luck. So, it was likely he’d already replaced most of it, if not every last bullet by now.
“Expecting company?” Kaleb asked me from the front seat of the Bronco, his cool metal eyes cutting back to me every few seconds when he really should be paying more attention to the streets around us.
“Yes,” I answered. “And so should you be, mate.”
Hisjaw clenched, but he continued without another retort. His gaze shifted from me back to the road with double the amount of scrutiny he had moments before.
BehindKaleb’sBronco, a nondescript minivan followed. In it were a few other Saints bound for Damien’s place.
Therest of them, with Damien at the helm, headed for the autobody shop. He’d see them there safely and wait for Kaleb and Hardin to return with their mother later tonight for a meeting with Damien’s brother from ThornValley and his top guys.
Ifthis DieselSt. Crow had as many men available as I overheard Damien say to his sons, then they might stand a chance. And once he joined them, the other smaller gangs who’d been holding out on them would likely follow once they saw inflated numbers on their side.
“Fuck, there’s construction up ahead,” Kaleb said, tapping the map on the dash screen to check for another route around it.
“Go through it.”
Henarrowed his eyes on me in the rearview, throwing a hand out to indicate the road ahead. “I can’t just go through it. Look at that shit. The road’s all blocked off.”
“Just go through.”
Therewere no workers, only orange pylons and wood blockades and a couple flashing lights.
Thishad my da written all over it.
Butmaybe I was being paranoid. He had no idea of our route or Damien’s plans to travel tonight. He’d have had to set up several roadblocks just like this one to force deviation that might work in his favor.
“Take the next left and use that road,” Becca said, pointing at the screen. The one-way that runs up from here to PattinsonAve.
“You shouldn’t deviate,” I tried one last time. “Those are just wooden roadblocks and pylons. Go through them.”
“I’m not fucking up my ride,” Kaleb replied, patting the Bronco’s dash. “Don’t listen to that mean, mean Irishman, Frankie, he didn’t mean it.”
Irolled my eyes, feeling my jaw clench as Kaleb took the turn and Hardin sat up straighter in his seat, pulling his weapon from his waistband to set it on his lap.
Atleast one of them was fucking hearing me.
Fromthe corner of my eye, I caught movement in an alley as we turned to take a narrower road between tall red brick apartment buildings.
Ifelt it before it happened. That thing in the air like a spark of electricity that screams when it hits your veins.
Atransport truck carrying a black cargo container sped out from a side street on the right, crossing right in front of our path. Kaleb had to slam on the brakes, and I threw out an arm to stop Becca from smashing her pretty face into the back of Hardin’s seat.
“Sorry, love,” I said, already scanning every available window for the threat no doubt headed directly for us. “I’m going to need to borrow this for a wee second.”
Iflicked the snap off the top of her little Glock and yanked it from the holster on her thigh, checking that there was a round in the chamber and a full mag. I left my mother’s blade strapped to her other thigh, hoping it would be enough if she needed to defend herself.
“What the fuck are you—” Hardin’s words cut off as men in dark clothing rushed from the alley behind us.
“Stay in the car, mo mhuirnín.”
Ishoved out the door and fired two shots, one of them hitting the intended target while the other glanced off a street post.
Liftingan arm, I tried to flag the minivan to keep going straight and not take the turn, but it was too late. A black SUV screeched into view and plowed into the side of the van, crushing it against the side of the first building, conveniently blocking our only rear exit and pinning our reinforcements to the wall.
Damnit.
Whydid no one ever fucking listen to me?
Isaw a barrel pointed in my direction and managed to drop behind a parked car for cover just as the bullet intended for me shattered one of its windows.
Anotherbarrage of fire followed, battering against the car, every shot lighting up the twilight lane with sparks, shaking the car against my back.
“Aodhán!” I heard Becca call from the car. Heard her shouting something else I couldn’t hear through the hail of bullets.
“Conserve your ammo!” I heard a familiar voice call out to the other Sons and a flood of surprise permeated every other thought in my mind.
Myda hadn’t managed to replace everything I destroyed. Not yet. It was an opportunity. OneI hoped Damien would grab with both hands when I told him to.
Butwe’d need to survive this in order to get the intel back to him.
Kalebslipped from the driver’s seat, keeping his head low.
“Little help?” I asked.
Hisjaw flexed.
“Cover me. I’m going for the SUV.”
Henodded once and I trusted him to have my back as I lurched to my feet and sprinted for the SUV, sliding the last two feet as Kaleb fired round after round, returning fire from the handful of Sons still near the mouth of the alley.
Ishot out the ankles of the two Sons as they stepped out of the vehicle, sending them to their knees before they could finish off every still-living soul in the minivan.
“Aodhán?” Reagan’s eyes were wide as they looked up at me, his hands clutching his ruined ankle.
“Sorry, mate.”
Helifted his weapon but not before I planted a bullet between his eyes.
“Get the girl!”
Myattention snapped back to the Bronco, finding Hardin and Kaleb crouched near its grill, trading bullets with the Sons in the alley.
TheSons that were slowly making their way toward the Bronco, their gazes violently intent on the silhouette of mo mhuirnín in the back seat.
“Aodhán!”
Ispun in time to dodge the shot from the other fallen Son and end him with a bullet of my own.
Itipped my head to the blood-splattered Saint in the driver’s seat of the minivan. He might’ve just saved my life. He nodded back in acknowledgement.
Behindhim, the other Saints were trying to climb over the half-collapsed seats to get out the back hatch. It looked like only the poor sod in the passenger seat bit it and everyone else was only a little battered up.
Iwhistled to them. “When you’re out, circle to the Bronco to help Hardin and Kaleb. Don’tlet Da’s men take any of them alive.”
“Where are you going?” the driver asked, fighting with his seatbelt.
“To stop any more from getting through.”
Ifthey did, we’d be too outnumbered to do anything. I needed to trust that Hardin and Kaleb could protect Becca. If the Sons were coming in from that narrow alley like ants through a crack in the wall—we needed someone there to exterminate them.
Ichecked the mag of Becca’s gun. I only had a few shots left. I’d have to make them count.
Therear windshield of the van smashed as the Saints worked to get free and I moved, racing toward the alley, using another parked car for cover. They were all so focused on the Saints climbing from the van and Hardin and Kaleb holding the Bronco that no one even saw me coming.
Ialmost felt bad. Almost.
UntilI remembered why I’d chosen this. Chosenher. Them.
Becausethere was Billy, who once killed three women in a single night to get a message across to our rivals in Ireland. AndDavid, who joined my da only because he was promised he’d be able to test new methods of inflicting pain on my da’s enemies unrestricted.
Billyand David fell dead just six feet shy of reaching the Bronco, leaving Hardin, Kaleb and the others with just six or seven more to handle.
Andthen I was in the alley, careful not to kick empty cans or step on the trash littering the edges where the red brick walls connected with broken pavement.
Isquinted to see further into the dim corridor, around fire escapes and trash collection bins. I couldn’t see anyone else coming, but we could bet all our asses they were on their way.
Ihoped someone was wise enough to alert Damien to the attack before bullets started to fly. With any luck, he’d be on his way as well. And if we were, we could end this right here. Right now. While my da was still low on ammunition and I had a gun in my hand with only his own accuracy to rival mine.
Behindme, the shots slowed, until they stopped entirely, and instead I heard the unmistakable sounds of fists hitting bone through flesh. Thebang of bodies smashing into metal.
They’drun out of ammo. I knew we had more in the trunk of the Bronco, but good luck getting to it.
Weneeded to finish them off and move.
Withone last careful scan of the alley, straining my ears to hear the sounds of approach, I backed toward its mouth, intending to help the others.
Ayelp of surprise cut through every other sound, and I ran the last few steps to find the rear door of the Bronco ajar and one of my da’s men pulling Becca from the seat.
Hardinand Kaleb were beating the absolute fuck out of two blokes ten years away, both of them aware and pushing to get through the wall of Sons holding them back.
Ofcourse.
Ofcourse, my da would want her.
Tocontrol me.
ButI’d rather bite a bullet than have him lay another finger on her. I couldn’t stomach the guilt. Was hardly living with it now.
Itook aim, but their bodies were all but completely blocked by the open door of the Bronco as they fought to get her outside. With only a few bullets left, I needed to make sure any shots I took were kill shots. Injuring them wouldn’t be enough to stop them.
Asthey hauled her out the rear door and she dropped to the pavement, mo mhuirnín twisted, burying the knife I gave her through the meaty hand of the Son who had his fist in her hair. She staked it to his thigh; the blade went through several layers of flesh and sinew so fully that I knew it had to be close to hitting bone.
That’smy girl.
Behindme, I heard the clatter of a can and swung an arm around, but I’d been too distracted. A hard blow to my wrist knocked the gun from my grip and another, harder blow with the butt of a firearm against the back of my skull rang in my ears and made my vision pinhole, the edges darkening, going distant.
No. I needed to stay conscious.
Ifell to my knees, blinking hard as my head spun.
Stayconscious…you useless…fuck.
Iclung to everything. Anything. LikeDa taught me.
Thesmell in the alley, acrid and heavy. Like old piss and sweet rot.
Thedampness seeping into the denim covering my knees from this afternoon’s rain still wetting the pavement.
Thecold of it.
Ifaded anyway.
Untilrough hands jerked my arms behind my back, sending signals into shot nerve endings.
Andthen she screamed, and I was fucking back, the raw sound like an injection of adrenaline straight to the chest. It rolled through my body like a wave, making skin bristle and muscle clench in its wake.
Aplastic zip tie cinched my wrists.
“Your da is going to have a hay day with you, boy-o.”
“Want to fucking bet?”
Istood in one swift motion, putting distance between us, lifting my arms to bring them back down hard against my hip to snap the ties.
Helifted his weapon, but I barrelled into his middle and a shot ricocheted off something metal above us as he went down hard on the pavement. I didn’t let him have even a second to collect his thoughts or his lost breath as I slammed his arm against the ground to disarm him and then grabbed each side of his head.
Iknew him, I realized. He’d been with Da for years now. Lived in the same town I grew up in and everyone in Belfast knew why his wife and daughter never left the house.
Ananimal sound left my lips as I smashed his head into the cracked pavement once, twice, three times until I heard the crack that meant his skull was shattered.
Ishook my head, trying to clear the haze still clinging to the edges of my vision. Making my ears fill with the blare of sirens.
Istumbled to my feet, snatching both his gun and Becca’s before I lost my footing and my shoulder connected with the alley wall as I fell into it.
Beccacried out again and I pushed off the wall, out of the alley and into the bloody street, stepping past bodies as I searched for her.
Kalebwas on the ground, a booted foot about to connect with his head. I closed one eye, breathing steady to bring clarity to my vision as I aimed and fired. TheSon went down, and Kaleb rolled, getting to his feet. His cold steel gaze connected with mine, his face covered in blood.
Helooked toward the narrow gap between the transport truck and the corner of the apartment building.
“I’ll bring her back,” I called as he winced, clutching the side mirror of a parked sedan to force himself back to his feet.
“Kaleb!”
Heturned back to me, and I flicked the safety back on the Son’s weapon and threw it to him. By the weight of it, it still had some lives left in it to end.
Hardinfought with three other Saints from the minivan, dispatching the remaining Sons one by one, but he was distracted, too, trying to mow through them to get to that gap. The gap where little drops of blood made a path out of the carnage and away.
Awayfrom here.
Momhuirnín.
Iran. Ignoring the fumble in my steps. The aching in my skull.
Islipped through the gap, head on a swivel.
“Becca!”
Ifollowed the blood trail, shouting again. “Becca!”
“I’m here!”
Thesound of a palm cracking against a cheek.
Dead. They were already dead for touching her.
Ifollowed the sound of her voice, taking a left on the next street to find the Son she’d stabbed trying to stuff her into the trunk of a car. Further up the road, a group of civilians were gathering, shouting, their phones on record or to their ears.
Inthe distance, blue and red lights.
“Aodhán!”
Ididn’t use the gun or its last bullet. I wanted to take his death with my bare fucking hands. He dropped her into the trunk and was too slow to turn around before I got my hands on him, wrenching his head sharply to the right until I felt the snap of his spinal column and tossed him to the ground.
Myeyes stung and something in my chest ached like I’d been shot as I carefully helped her from the trunk with numb fingers.
“Mo mhuirnín,” my voice cracked. “Mo mhuirnín, are you hurt?”
Icupped her face in my palms, analyzing her for injury.
Therewas a fresh bruise coming in on her right cheek and some blood splattered on her collar, but I didn’t think it was hers.
“I-I don’t think so.” She swallowed, the fear in her deep brown eyes shifting as she pulled out of my grip to turn and kick the dead Son.
“Fucking.” Kick. “Asshole.” Kick.
Ipulled her back to me without thinking, my fingers burying themselves in the soft hair at the nape of her neck as I pressed my lips to hers.
She’sokay.
Theydidn’t take her.
I’dnever let them take her.
Shemade a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan and I felt the echo of it in my throat as she kissed me back.
Shekissed me back.
Therewas a pounding in my chest that I felt all the way to my fingertips. It hurt. It hurt in the most agonizingly perfect way.
WhenI drew back, her eyes searched mine for something I hoped she could find.
Pasther, I saw the others standing on the other side of the parked transport. Hardin’s whole body seemed to expand with each of his heavy breaths, but there was only relief on his face. Kaleb’s parted lips closed, and he gave me a terse nod. The other Saints were more preoccupied with the slowly growing crowd down the road, and the approaching police.
Beccaturned to see what I was looking at, and I let my hand fall away from her neck to rest at her lower back. She stiffened when she saw Hardin and Kaleb, as if she’d done something wrong, and I took my hands off her.
Ididn’t want to be the wrong thing.
Icouldn’t be.
Myteeth clenched in my jaw. “It’s okay, mo mhuirnín. Go to them.”
Shelooked between them and me and back again, as if making a choice I didn’t ask her to make.
OneI didn’t want her to make.
Butit became clear as I came down from the high of her…
Theywere still us.
Iwas still them.
“We need to get out of here,” Kaleb said, holding his hand out toward Becca. She dipped her head and squeezed past me to go to him, but as she got clear, I felt her fingers curl around my hand, tugging me along with her.
“Let’s go,” she said, and my lips pulled into a taut smirk.
“I’m right behind you.”
Hardincleared his throat as we neared, staring at our clasped hands as Becca took Kaleb’s. I pulled my fingers from hers and met Hardin’s hard stare, waiting.
Notsure what I was waiting for.
Tobe shot?
Receiveanother punch in the face from a St. Vincent?
Butafter several tense heartbeats, he flipped a blade in his fingers so the handle end was toward me and held it out.
Itwas my mother’s blade.
“Saw it on the ground,” he said.
Itook it, tapping the flat edge against my palm. “Thanks, mate.”
Andthen wiped the blood on my thigh and closed the blade, pivoting on my heel, going to a knee as I strapped it back into place on her right thigh and then replaced her gun into its rightful holster, clicking the snap into place.
WhenI looked up, her gaze was intent on mine, a flush in her cheeks.
“Here,” Kaleb said, tugging the small firearm from his ankle holster. Not his main, but his second. “That’s yours now, mate.”
“Hardin, we need to move,” one of the Saints hissed and we dispersed. He got into the transport to move it out of the way while the rest of us managed to fit into the pockmarked Bronco.
“Does your dad know?” I asked Hardin and Kaleb in the front seat.
“Not yet.”
Mystomach twisted. “Call him. Tell him not to go to the auto body shop. Get everyone out of there. Out of his house, too. My da knows those locations. We need to go somewhere else. Somewhere he doesn’t know about. And then I’m going to need all of you to listen to me because what we do in the next twenty-four hours is going to dictate whether we walk out of this alive or wind up like that sorry sod in the passenger seat of that minivan over there.”
Hardinhad his phone out and was dialing before I’d even finished talking.
Good.
Theywere listening now.