Chapter 32
LOCHLAN
I’ve never wanted to kill anyone as badly as I want to kill the motherfuckers who took my wife.
My truck screeches to a stop outside the abandoned warehouse.
We jump out. Ronan and his guys run to the back of the building through the overgrown weeds surrounding the place and Cillian takes the front door with a shotgun blast to the lock.
I shove through it before the echo of the gunfire dies out, gun in my outstretched hand as I scan the space.
There are two Russians in my periphery. Shots to the chest and head send them crumpling to the ground before they can squeeze off any of their own.
“Ronan, we’re in,” I say into the comms. “Two Russians down. But the front is pretty empty.”
“Loading dock is hot. We’ve got a lot of company back here,” he says.
More gunfire erupts from the back of the building. Good. Ronan and his guys will take the focus off the inside while we search the place for Adriana and the bastards who snatched her.
“Come on,” I say to Cillian. “She’s gotta be here somewhere.” My chest constricts like a vise because while she might be here, she might also be…
Fuck. No. I grit my teeth. I won’t even allow myself to think it.
She’s too good, too strong, too perfect.
I won’t lose her. I already did enough to push her away and make her vulnerable to these fuckheads.
I need a chance to redeem myself; to tell her how much I need her, how I can’t live without her.
Squaring my shoulders, I take off toward a far corridor.
We creep down the long, dark hallway, peering into doors leading to empty rooms. The whole place is a maze of shipping containers, rusted machine parts, and the occasional dead rat.
I move fast, staying low to the ground, listening for any sounds—Russian or otherwise.
Then her voice floats into the air and I stop. “She’s here,” I rasp.
“Get your hands off me—”
Wrath pounds through my temples, my vision flooding with a deep red haze.
Someone has their hands on my wife.
And that someone is gonna die a very slow, very excruciating death.
“Where?” Cillian whispers.
I strain my ears. “Left side. Near the back, I think.”
I creep in the direction of the voices, sidestep a dark gray container and see them.
Heat crawls up the back of my neck when I see two thug ass Russians drag Adriana toward a side door.
Her hands are bound but she still fights like a hellcat, kicking and twisting every step of the way.
One of them gives her a backhand across the face.
Something snaps inside me. The urge to smash, to break, to hurt thrumming right below the surface, so close to boiling over.
And then it does.
I fire off a few rounds into the first guy’s head and back before he even sees me.
The second spins around, reaching for his gun.
The one who dared lay a finger on my wife.
I shoot him in the throat. He drops, gurgling, eyes blown wide as he clutches the wound.
Adriana stumbles. I catch her before she hits the ground, setting her back against the wall while I finish dealing with her asshole assailant.
I stand over him seizing on the cold, dirty floor, and say, “You know what happens when you touch something that doesn’t belong to you, right?” I lean forward, getting right in his face as the life seeps from his body. “You die.”
I could shoot him in the head right then. But then he wouldn’t learn his lesson before he meets his maker. So I leave him floundering on the ground. It won’t be an excruciatingly slow death as I intended, but it’ll do.
I move toward Adriana, pull a knife out of the waistband of my pants, and flick open the blade. I slice through the plastic ties. They fall to the ground, her wrists and ankles raw and bleeding from the pressure.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, sliding a hand down the side of her red, tear-stained cheek.
She nods. “I’m fine. But Lochlan, Eamon is here—”
“I know.”
She rubs her wrists, and all I want to do is pull her against me and make sure she’s real. But there’s no time. I exchange a look with Cillian. He nods toward the back of the warehouse, signaling me to move.
“Can you walk?” I ask Adriana.
“Yes.”
I grab a gun off one of the dead Russians. She holds out her hand. “Give it to me.”
I recoil slightly. “Yeah?”
She nods. “I know how to use it.” I hand it over. She checks the magazine and chambers a round. Fuck me, that’s hot. She didn’t even hesitate.
“Stay behind me,” I say.
We quickly and quietly move through the warehouse. Gunfire gets closer. Ronan’s voice comes over the comms, barking orders.
“I’m gonna head to the back,” Cillian says. “Get Adriana out the side of the building. Ronan and I will hold them off on the loading dock.”
I nod. “Be careful.”
“You, too.” He ducks down another corridor and disappears into the darkness.
I hold Adriana tight against me as we head away from the firefight. Another voice through the chaos around us.
“Lochlan.”
I stop, finger on the trigger, my shoulders locking like steel.
My father steps out from behind a stack of crates down the hallway from us. Two massive Russians flank him. He has a gun in his hand, but it’s pointed at the ground. Like we’re just meeting casually instead of hunting one another.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he says.
“It’s over.” I keep my hand outstretched. “Your Russians are going down. Whatever the hell your plan was, it’s over. You fucking lose, Eamon.”
“Do I?” He nods toward Adriana. “I see you found your wife.”
“Vincenzo is dead because of you,” Adriana says, her voice shaking with rage. “My father almost died because of you.”
“Your father is a relic. And Vincenzo outlived his usefulness, just like I said earlier. Besides, he betrayed you worse than I did. How is he not the biggest villain in this story?”
“You really are a fucking headcase,” I say, incredulity lacing my words.
Eamon shrugs. “This is how things work. If you’re part of this life, you learn to accept it.”
“People are dead,” I yell. “And no, I don’t fucking accept that.”
“People always die, Lochlan. That’s the way this business works.
” He steps closer, the Russians right on his heels.
“And you’d better learn to accept that fact.
” His jaw tightens, the hand clutching the gun raised in Adriana’s direction.
“So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to lower your weapon and come with me. ”
“Like hell,” I growl.
“Think very carefully.” His voice drops, the threatening edge grating against my ears.
“Your brothers are scattered through this building. Cillian, Ronan. And Wolfe is at Gavin’s place right now, monitoring comms.” My father’s lips curl upward, and in this second, he looks every bit the demon I always knew he was.
“All it would take is one phone call. I can have men at Gavin’s front door in ten minutes.
And nobody would be able to help him and Wolfe. ”
Sweat crawls down my spine. “You wouldn’t.”
“Without hesitation.” He glares at me with the soulless eyes of a man who is evil beyond all comprehension.
“You’ve always been sentimental, Lochlan.
You’d die for them. Which means you’ll do exactly what I say, just like you always do because they’re your weakness.
” He shakes his head. “It’s really bad form to let someone expose your weaknesses.
If they can see through you, they can destroy you and everything you care about. Always remember that, son.”
The word makes my stomach roil. “Fuck you. I’m not your son. And your other sons know exactly who and what you are. They can see through you.”
“You’ll never turn Ronan on me. He’s not like the rest of you.”
“Guess again, old man. Ronan’s men are with us. They’re not loyal to you.”
“Ronan’s men are loyal to money. And I have much more than he does.” That thin smile returns and my fist itches to punch it off his face. “You think I don’t have contingencies? I’ve been planning this for years.”
Cillian’s voice crackles in my ear. “More vehicles incoming. Looks like Kozlov reinforcements are on the way in.”
Shit.
“Looks like you’re running out of time,” Eamon says. “Decide.”
I look at Adriana. She’s pale, disgust shadowing her expression, but the gun is steady in her unwavering hand. She meets my eyes and nods.
“You forgot something in all your grand, deceitful planning,” I tell my father.
“What’s that?”
“Ronan hates you as much as I do.”
The shot comes from behind Eamon. One of his guards drops with a loud yelp, clutching his shoulder. Ronan steps out, gun raised, his men fanning out behind him.
“Hey, Dad,” he calls out, his voice chilling the air. “Surprise.”
Eamon whirls around, staring at Ronan and then back at me before his arrogance bleeds into the surprise of seeing his heir holding him at gunpoint.
“Ronan. I didn’t expect you to choose the losing side.”
“I’m not choosing sides. I’m choosing my brothers.” Ronan moves closer. “You’ve played us against each other our whole lives. You used us, threatened us. I’m fucking done.”
“You think Lochlan will forgive you? After everything that’s happened between you?”
“That’s between me and him to work out,” Ronan says. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
One of Ronan’s guys has a gun to the back of the other Russian’s head. Eamon looks between us, like a trapped rat. Which is really appropriate.
“You’ve got no way out,” I say. “No fucking cavalry to rescue you from your lies and your greed.”
Cillian’s voice blares out. “Black SUV, coming in hot. Get the fuck out now.”
Almost instantly, the wall opposite the loading dock explodes inward. A black SUV crashes through the roll-up door. Shipping containers fly across the space, debris scattered everywhere. The doors open and another group of thug Russians pour out, guns in hand.
Fuck. Kozlov’s second wave.
I grab Adriana and pull her behind a concrete pillar, but she won’t stay hidden.
“This is my war, too,” she says through gritted teeth.