Chapter 30 Grace
Grace
“Wait, don’t…!” I begin, my nerves taking another hit as Killian removes his sunglasses and his wig. “What if someone recognizes you?”
Killian takes a meaningful look around the deserted food prep area where pots of slowly cooling sauces and stews have been abandoned. I’ve commandeered the catering tent much to the annoyance of the catering manager, but since I’m the one who hired him, he’s agreed to keep everyone away for now.
“It’ll be fine,” Killian says dropping his disguise and the gift for Katarina on top of the cake box I’d set down on a nearby serving cart. “I’ll put it back on if anyone comes in.”
“Yeah, that won’t look suspicious,” I answer sarcastically, glancing at Max who had arrived when I was clearing the tent.
While we wait for Duke, I watch in fascination as Killian goes in search of something to eat.
He ignores the dressed salmon and delicate hors d’oeuvres and grabs a bread roll.
He rips it apart to create a well for a wedge of cheese and some kettle chips.
He smashes the sides of the bread together to make a sandwich.
Killian catches me staring. “Do you want one, Gracie? I can make another?”
I would have been less shocked if the son of a mafia boss had offered me drugs or weapons. “I’m good, thanks.”
Killian gestures towards Max with the same offer and gets an eye roll in response. Max is guarding the rear exit, splitting his attention between the outside space and the Irishman. I’m watching the tunnel entrance in case the catering manager tries to sneak his staff back in.
“Shouldn’t you call Katarina?” I ask Killian. “She’ll want to know why you completely ignored her order to stay away.”
He chews on his food. “I’ll give her a minute or two to calm down first. I don’t know if you noticed, but she has quite a temper.”
“I know she cares about you,” I reply, recalling her tears earlier. “And making her go through another goodbye is going to be hard.”
“Would you be happy if your last goodbye with Duke was in a public restroom? She deserves better.”
He finishes his sandwich in a couple of bites and wipes his hands on the sides of his dark pants. If you ignored the crumbs and his blackened heart, Killian is disarmingly attractive with kind eyes. It’s a shame every time he speaks, he makes it sound like a threat.
He stalks back towards me. “If your man doesn’t hurry up, I might have to find Katarina on my own,” he says, and it’s the first sign that he’s not as laid back as he pretends.
“The fuck you will,” Duke replies, appearing from the tunnel. His gaze sweeps over me. “Are you OK?”
I manage a nod, but my lips tremble as he strides towards me. My breath hitches when he slips an arm around me and pulls me close.
“Ouch. Who smacked you in the face?” Killian asks jovially when he registers Duke’s split lip. “It wasn’t Katarina, was it?”
“No, it was me,” says Calder, who comes to stand next to us.
Killian simply shrugs. He doesn’t ask why. It’s as if punching your brother is a totally normal thing to do.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Duke. “I didn’t want to bring him here, but he got in the car and then…” Duke’s darkening expression makes me think twice about continuing. He’s going to explode.
“And then what, Grace?” he growls.
I wince. Why do I feel guilty about getting Killian into trouble? I use my hand to form the shape of a gun.
Killian has a bemused look on his face as he watches me mimicking a gun being aimed at my head. It’s why he doesn’t see Duke’s fist flying at him until it’s almost too late. He tries to dodge it, but there’s a sickening thud as the punch glances off his cheek.
The Irishman recovers quickly, his face reddening with rage. He pulls back his arm to retaliate, but Calder inserts himself between the two men.
“Now isn’t the time.”
“Threaten Grace again, Killian and you’ll be the one dodging bullets,” Duke snarls over Calder’s shoulder.
“I was never going to hurt her. Katarina would’ve killed me,” Killian retorts. “And let’s not forget you pulled a fucking gun on Kitty too!”
“I think that’s enough bickering,” comes a new voice, this one deeper.
Rory’s frame fills the tunnel exit, effectively blocking it. Ed is close by too. I can hear him arguing with the catering manager further down the tunnel.
“So, boys,” Rory continues, tapping his cell phone once before slipping it into his pocket. “How do we get out of this mess?”
If nothing else, it’s a good reminder that it’s a shared problem and we’re all on the same side. Or at least, I hope we are.
“It’s simple,” says Killian. “Someone’s going to sneak me into the house so I can speak to Katarina.”
“And then he’s going to leave,” I add, reminding Killian of his promise.
“Sure,” he replies.
His assurance is no more convincing than it had been the last time he promised.
I don’t think I’d believe Killian McConkey even if he swore a blood oath, and I especially don’t believe him when it comes to Katarina.
He might act like the drama he’s created is just a game, but there’s a persistence to his actions.
He loves her, and the world is conspiring to take her from him. That’s not a man to trust.
“You get ten minutes, Killian. No more,” Duke says, already checking his watch. To Rory, he adds, “There’s no time to argue. We’ve got to get him in and out before eight o’clock.”
“I can take him to the house,” Max calls over.
“No, I need you to stay here and take command of our security staff. The guards shouldn’t have let Grace through with an unidentified passenger. They need to do better. Everyone needs to be on high alert. Everyone, Max,” he repeats.
“I’ll take Killian,” Calder offers. “If anyone knows how to sneak in and out of the house, it’s me.”
“Are you armed?” asks the Irishman.
“We all are,” Duke says and I immediately tense.
He pulls me tighter against him and I press my head to his chest. This is not how I imagined the evening would go.
Fitz was meant to be handed back without a hitch, and the worst I was supposed to endure was watching Duke dance with Katarina.
The biggest shock for Duke was meant to be when he saw me in my dress.
I thought I’d be shivering with cold, not terror.
Duke kisses the top of my head. “We’re being cautious, that’s all. It’s only one mad Irishman,” he reassures me. His head tilts towards Killian. “Unless you’re not alone?”
“Just yours truly,” he says. His eyes narrow. “And when you lads snitch on me to Ash, I’d be obliged if you asked the Griffins not to tell Dad I was here. If he asks, Katarina was fooling around with some handsome devil of a hairdresser, but you never met him.”
Calder whistles. “Two warring families. Two star-crossed lovers. Someone should write a story about that.”
“Fuck off, gobshite,” Killian says, picking up his wig and sunglasses from the serving cart. I’m expecting him to put them on so he can leave with Calder, but he moves them out of the way to get to the cake box. There’s stunned silence as the Irishman brandishes a cake covered in pink butter cream.
“Are we throwing cream pies now?” Calder says, asking what we’re all thinking.
Killian tips the cake upside down and it lands on the cart with a loud splat. He peels off the silvery cake board and shoves his hand inside the sponge.
“Are they grenades?” I ask, clinging harder to Duke. This is another level of crazy I wasn’t prepared for.
“Smoke bombs,” Killian replies as he unbuttons his jacket and straps four black cylinders onto a utility belt. I catch a glimpse of an automatic handgun attached to the belt that’s in addition to the one holstered at his shoulder. “You never know when they’re going to come in handy.”
“I’d ask that you don’t use them on us,” Rory says, “but apparently you’re not above threatening the people who are meant to be your allies.”
“Jeez, can everyone stop giving me a hard time about a little bump in the car?” Killian says, wrongly assuming Rory’s talking about the car crash and not him threatening me. “You don’t look any worse for it.” Killian stops talking, registering the confused looks from Duke’s brothers. “What?”
“You crashed into me?” Rory asks when realization dawns.
“It was a gentle bump.”
“A gentle bump?” Rory repeats. His fuse isn’t as quick to light as Duke’s, but as he inhales, his chest expands and he looks ready to explode. “You totaled my fucking car!”
Killian waves his hands in the air. “It’s not my fault you’re a piss poor driver, Rory. It was a little reminder to lovesick Duke here to keep to the script. Vasili was threatening to recall Katarina back to Russia,” he says, looking to Duke to back him up. “Tell them.”
Duke’s jaw feathers when he says, “We don’t have fucking time for this. Just go if you have to go, Killian.”
“Fine.” He grabs the gift bag for Katarina from the serving cart, wipes a glob of splattered buttercream off the bow and licks his finger clean. After slipping on his wig, he turns to Rory one last time. “I’m sorry, OK?” There’s a glint in his eye when he pouts and adds, “Are we still friends?”
“We watch each other’s back tonight,” Rory says, not quite agreeing.
Killian winks. “Don’t you be worrying. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Come on, Romeo,” Calder says, pulling Killian towards the rear exit. “Let’s go climb a turret.”
We all take a moment to breathe, but the calm left in Killian’s wake doesn’t bring a sense of peace, only trepidation. “We can contain this, right?” I ask.
“We’re prepared for anything,” Duke promises, pulling me in for a kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. “But I’d feel better if you and Ed left.”
“I’m not leaving you, Duke.”
“Nor me!” Ed shouts, emerging from the tunnel.
“We can get one of our guards to take you back to Grace’s apartment,” Duke says, ignoring us both. “It has the best security.” He turns to Rory, already moving on to his next task. “And I suppose we should let the Griffins know what’s happening.”
“What a genius idea. Shame you didn’t think of it weeks ago,” Rory says dryly, pulling out his phone again.
“I messaged Ash five minutes ago.” His expression is pinched as he checks for a response.
“Apparently, he’d already been made aware of the situation and they’re in the air as we speak.
He’ll land the helicopter close enough to move in if we need assistance, but they’ll remain out of sight for now. There’s ground support on standby too.”
“How the hell did they find out?” Duke asks. “Was it Killian?”
“From the expletives Ash is using, I’d say not,” replies Rory. “He’s as pissed with Killian as he is with you. Luckily, he isn’t so pissed that he’s going to leave us to shoot it out alone.”
They’re talking as if they’re going into a battle, and I think I might be sick. But I’m still not going to leave.
“Have you forgotten you have a marquee full of partygoers?” I remind Duke. “While you’re dealing with crime lords, someone has to keep your guests happy and hopefully oblivious of any potential danger.” Potential. It’s not real. Not yet.
“We’ll evacuate everyone if necessary, but you’re still leaving now.” Duke turns before I can respond. “Max, can you get someone to take them?”
Max is speaking into his earpiece, his features grim. “No one’s going anywhere. A team of Bratva soldiers just climbed out of one of three armored vehicles and have taken over our security at the gates. No shots fired yet, but I don’t imagine it’ll be long before the vehicles head this way.”