Chapter 14
Lina
Chapter Fourteen
I look up when the pounding on the door registers as more than just my heart pounding. I don’t want to let go of the pressure on Sean’s wound, but I can’t let his cousins in to help if I don’t.
“I’ll be right back.” I know he can’t hear me. There’s so much fucking blood.
I race to the door, training ingrained in me to check the peephole first, then fling it open. I barely step back as Seamus and Cormac barrel forward, guns drawn. If I didn’t know they’d never hurt me, I’d fear them trampling me. One of them is impressive. Both of them is fucking terrifying as they look ready to murder someone with their bare hands as their gazes scan the suite. They make a beeline to Sean, and I’m right on their heels.
“What happened?” Cormac’s voice is deceptively low. It’s not soft, just quiet.
“We were talking beside the window. I don’t know what made him do it, but he spun me around and pushed me to the floor. Then the window shattered. He asked if I was all right, and I am. Then he said he wasn’t, and I needed to get you.”
Seamus is pressing Sean’s suit jacket to his wound as Cormac raises his gun and looks out the window where there is nothing to see. At least nothing I notice, but perhaps he’ll see more. I look back at Seamus and Sean, and Sean's face is so pale it makes me wonder if he's still alive. But the blood continues to flow from him. Corpses don't bleed.
“Did he say anything else?”
I can only shake my head at Seamus’s question. I kneel beside Sean, opposite Seamus to stay out of his way. I take Sean’s hand, and it’s already so cold. I squeeze as hard as I dare. His fingers curl around mine and return the squeeze. It’s hardly strong for a man like him, but it’s something.
“I’m not dying, cailín. But this fecking hurts. Damn it, Seamus. Don’t shove my jacket into the wound, just onto it.”
“Don’t whine.”
I glance back and forth between the cousins, entirely bewildered by the exchange. Even in his condition, Sean won’t swear in front of me. Seamus acts as though this is a paper cut even though blood covers his hands.
“You could at least take some pity on me in front of my girlfriend.”
I stare down at Sean, wondering if he truly understands what he's saying. He called me little girl and his girlfriend in front of his cousins. I don't think he would normally do that if he were in the right state of mind, but I refuse to be embarrassed since I want nothing more than to be his girlfriend. I want that title. It's mine.
Cormac moves away from the window, his gun still poised and ready to fire, but he comes to stand beside his brother, glancing down at Sean in between scanning outside.
“What do we do? Can we take him to the hospital? I thought you guys would avoid that, but do you know any doctors here? I don't know anyone.”
“We will have to take him somewhere. This is too serious to avoid a hospital, and we don't have time to take him back to Boston, where we know somebody who can patch him up. If we can get him stable, then we might be able to transport him there. But right now, he's losing a lot of blood. It's not his lung like you thought, but it is very close.” Seamus peels back the jacket enough to look at the wound. He reapplies the pressure.
“Should I call an ambulance? Are we wasting too much time? What do you need me to do?”
I feel like I'm peppering them with questions, but I don't know what to do in a situation like this. I’ve never been in a place where I’ve seen someone get shot. Well, I didn’t see Sean get shot, but now I’m dealing with the fact that he was. That he shielded me, and there was just as much likelihood I was the target as him. He saved my life one way or another. And now I need to know what to do to save his.
It’s Cormac who answers me this time. “Call the ambulance. You stay with him while we get the car. You’ll ride in the ambulance with him. Pretend to be his wife.”
I nod as I dial 911. My hands are shaking as I wait for the dispatcher to answer. Then I’m telling him my husband’s been shot. I’m about to tell the man the hotel name and room number, but Seamus shakes his head.
“Tell them the park across the road.” He mouths the words, and I barely understand him.
But I provide the information to the guy as Cormac and Seamus haul Sean onto his feet. He groans as Cormac presses his shoulder into Sean’s belly and hefts him onto it. What the fuck? They can’t move him like this.
They are. Seamus grabs my purse and pushes it at me before hurrying to gather Sean’s bag. Lord only knows what’s in there. I expect us to get in the elevator, and I fear dropping the signal. The dispatcher isn’t saying anything right now, so he must be putting out the call. When Seamus opens the door to the stairwell, I freeze. Seamus looks like he’s ready to hoist me over his shoulder if I don’t keep up.
Cormac still has his gun in his hand, and Sean over his opposite shoulder. Seamus is behind me, his gun at the ready. We’re on the fifth floor. I don’t know how they make it down the stairs without being winded, especially Cormac. But neither of them is breathing harder than normal while I fear passing out. They lead me out of a back door, and I realize it’s likely how they came in. Seamus is on my heels, keeping me from slowing down as we hurry to the grassy area across the street.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“The ambulance will be there in two minutes.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“I’ll stay on the line till they get there. Are there any witnesses?”
My eyes widen. Cormac lays Sean on the ground in the same position as he found him when he and his brother arrived. Seamus points around. The park is empty. I can tell the truth.
“No. There’s no one here. We were going for a walk.”
“All right. How’s he doing?”
“He’s unconscious.” He is. He didn’t make a sound the entire way down the stairs, out the back door, across the street, or when his cousin put him down.
“The ambulance is just around the corner. I hear them. Can I hang up now, so I can concentrate?”
“Yes. They’ll take care of him.”
“Thank you. Bye.”
I hang up without waiting for another word. I hear the siren, but I see nothing.
Seamus wraps an arm around the middle of my back, and I realize I’m trembling. What he says only mildly reassures me.
“We'll follow at a safe distance. If there's anything you don’t know how to answer, and he’s not conscious, pretend to be too distraught to tell them.”
“What do I say when they want to know how he got shot? It’s in the back, and it’s clear what kind of wound it is. They’ll have to fish the bullet out. How do I explain that if I was here? They’ll expect me to know the answer to at least that question.”
“No, they won’t. Like you said, he was shot in the back. There’re plenty of reasons you wouldn’t see who did it if both of you were looking away.”
“How do I explain why he’s a target? Won’t they want to know if I have any guesses at all?”
Cormac shakes his head before answering me. “The hospital staff won’t be interested in that. They’ll focus on getting him into surgery as soon as possible. He’s O positive. He hasn’t had any surgeries, and he’s otherwise in perfect health. As long as you can remember that much, then you should be fine. If you can’t answer questions, remember, pretend to be the distraught wife.”
I’m still not convinced. “The gunshot wounds mean calling the cops. It won’t take them long to get there. They’re the ones who are going to want answers to these types of questions, and I won’t know what to say.”
“By then, we can have a reasonable explanation for showing up. We can take care of any questions you can’t answer. And if they want to know why we're in town, we say business.”
“It’s not like Belchertown is such a booming metropolis that three New Yorkers and a woman from Montreal would gather here. We have to have some type of story to explain it.” I think I’m doing a fucking great job not panicking, but I’m on the verge.
Seamus squeezes my shoulder as he pretty much keeps me from collapsing. “The only story they need to know is that we are in town for business but haven’t yet held the client meeting. It is clear from your clothing, his, and ours that we’re wealthy. As a wealthy businessman, it's not beyond reason he could be a target. He’s a legitimate venture capitalist in New York. We stick to the truth. He owns more than one business, and there are plenty of people in the corporate world who would prefer not to see another O'Rourke make another million.”
We spot the hood of the ambulance turning the corner. Seamus lets go of me, and I nearly fall over. I’m unprepared for them to back away. My fear must be clear because Cormac pats my upper arm.
“We’ll follow you. But the fewer people here the better.”
“And the hotel room?”
“We can take care of that.”
Cleaners. I know what they are. They must have a way of getting some here. They’ll come in and take care of everything in the room, so it never looked like a crime scene. I have no idea how they’ll handle the window, but I don’t care.
Within three minutes of the paramedics arriving, they have Sean on oxygen and on a stretcher. The bleeding slowed while his cousins and I waited. If I hadn’t watched his back rise and fall while on the call, I would’ve believed he was dead. He’s still so pale.
“Ma’am? Do you have a way to the hospital?”
“I’m riding with my husband.”
“We really can’t?—”
I turn such a menacing glare at him—one I feel to my soul—that he snaps his mouth shut. I step up to the poor man and am so close, my forehead is nearly up his nose.
“You are not separating me from him until he goes into surgery. I’ll stay out of the way, but I’m not taking some fucking Uber while he might?—”
I can’t say it.
“Cailín?”
I whip around at the sound of Sean’s thready voice under the oxygen mask. I can’t believe he’s conscious again. What the fuck kind of pain tolerance does he have?
“Yes?” I lift the mask just enough to understand him.
“I love when you’re fierce. Just hold my hand, and it’ll be all right. I promise.”
I stare dumbfounded. He’s comforting me. I scramble into the ambulance when the exasperated paramedic gestures for me to get in. I stay out of the way as best I can, but I don’t let go of Sean’s hand once I have it again. I have no choice when we get to the Emergency Room. I have to let go long enough for them to get him out of the ambulance. Then I’m running alongside the stretcher until someone steps in front of me. With their hands on my shoulders, they push me back. I’m certain I could knock them out of the way. But a thread of common sense stops me because I know I can’t go into the OR with them.
“Miss?”
I look up as a young man in scrubs approaches. “Yes.”
“You came in with the victim.”
I flinch, and he grimaces.
“Can you tell me his name?”
“Sean O’Rourke. Sean Dermot O’Rourke.”
“Date of birth?”
Fuck. I stare blankly at the guy before turning back to the doors through which they wheeled him.
“Date of birth?”
“January seventeenth.”
I whirl around at Cormac’s voice. He and Seamus approach. Neither have a hair out of place, and neither have a speck of blood on them. I look down at my dress and hands. I’m covered in it. That is my breaking point.
I’m trembling as Cormac slips off his suit coat and wraps it around my shoulders. It’s not what he was wearing earlier. How’d they have time to clean up and change? How long have I been standing here since they wheeled Sean away? I thought it was only a couple minutes. I don’t even know. Numbness sets in.
“I’ll answer the questions. We’re Mr. O’Rourke’s cousins.”
The hospital staffer looks between me and Seamus. “Isn’t she his girlfriend or wife?”
“Yes, and she’s upset. Questions will only make it worse.”
I watch them talk as Cormac leads me away. We sit, and I’m grateful for his arm around my shoulders just like Seamus’s earlier. I slump against him with my eyes closed. Tears seep from them.
“Was this because of Ewan or because of me?” I speak only loud enough for Cormac to understand me.
“We don’t know. Either, both, or something entirely separate. Has your brother tried to contact you since you left his place?”
I pull out my phone, surprised to see six missed calls from Justin. There’re none from Ewan. I hit my voicemail as I sit up. There’s only one recording to listen to.
“Nikki, you’re making a huge mistake. You need to stay away from Sean. It’s not safe. You’re more likely to wind up dead than waking up in bed with him.”
His voice is beseeching not warning. I look up at Cormac before I stand up. “I need to make this call.”
I walk to where I can be reasonably alone in an Emergency Room waiting room. I listen to the message one more time before tapping the phone icon.
“Nik—”
“Did you do it?” I don’t let him finish the word.
“Do what? What happened? You weren’t at Jesse’s when I got there. He said you went to meet Sean.”
“Why did you go to Jesse’s?”
“Because your brother’s on the fucking rampage. I knew you wouldn’t listen to me over the phone. You didn’t answer my calls.”
“I didn’t see them come in. And you had to be here before you made the first one.”
“I didn’t trust you not to bolt if you knew I was on the way. What happened? Are you safe?”
“Yeah. Something happened, but I won’t say over the phone. What’s Ewan doing?”
“I won’t say that over the phone. You need to come back to Boston. I can get you on a flight to Montreal.”
“You think I need to go to Canada?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen Ewan this pissed before. He believes you told the O’Rourkes about some deal. Whether you did or didn’t, he thinks you leaving this morning proves you’re conspiring with them. Tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you. You need distance from Sean.”
“That is the last thing I need right now.”
Fucking hell!!!
I look at my phone screen and tap the settings icon.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
My location services are on. He already knows where I am. I turn it off. The moment I’m off this call, I’m turning the phone off and dumping it somewhere. I’ll stick to the burners. I fucked this one up royally. I run my hand through my hair.
“Nikki, don’t do this. Let me get you on the flight home, then you can sort things out once you’re out of his reach.”
I glance over at Cormac and Seamus, who’s now sitting beside his brother. I know Sean has an identical twin, but these two could be twins, too. I was inches away from that bullet hitting me. But I don’t regret being with Sean. If it was for him, he protected me. If it was for me, he protected me. Either way, he put my life before his. I’m not leaving him while he’s in the hospital because that would be a shit thing to do. But I’m also not leaving him because I still feel safer with him—and, by extension his cousins—than I do anyone else.
I want to think I can still trust Justin. Sean asked if Justin had feelings for me. I don’t know. I don’t think so. But maybe he does. Or maybe he’s trying to dupe me to get me back to Ewan. He’s as loyal to my brother as Colt, and Colt would do that in a heartbeat.
“I am out of his reach. I’m going nowhere with you or anyone else connected to my brother. Goodbye.”
“But—”
I hang up. I turn the phone off. This shitstorm tempts me to crush the phone or at least break it somehow, but that could be shortsighted. I go back to the brothers and relay the conversation to them. Their grim expressions leave me at a loss as to what I should think now.
“Nikki, if you don’t want to go with this guy when he shows up, then you won’t. If you change your mind and want to, then we’ll still guard you.”
“No. You are not leaving Sean here unprotected. And I am not leaving here until he’s walking out, holding my hand. Justin can try, but he has never gotten me to bend to his will. It has always been the other way around.”
“Would he take you?”
“Yes.”
That’s easy to answer. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. But he would force me to go with him. I don’t doubt he’d bind my wrists and gag me. I would go willingly if it were Sean doing that. But I’ll fucking kill Justin before he takes me away from Sean.
I don’t know how to account for these emotions. I’m terrified, angry, frustrated, confused. It’s a fucking hurricane in my head right now. I’m so fucking frustrated. I don’t know if the anger I already have toward my brother fuels my refusal to trust Justin or consider leaving Sean here. I don’t know if it’s fear that he’s going to die, and I’ll feel guilty if I leave. I know I’m confused because this might or might not be about me. I don’t know if I’m terrified I’ll die if I go anywhere without someone in his family with me. I don’t know a lot of things right now.
The thing I do know is that I’m going nowhere without Sean. I’ve never felt such physical pain as I did the moment I saw the blood. It was like I was between those enormous metal blocks they push together to crush cars. For those moments when he wasn’t moving or talking, when he looked like chalk, it was like being tossed in a vacuum. There was no future to guide me out of the abyss. It just felt empty when I thought he was dying. He might still die.
I’m holding myself together, but only by a thread. I don’t like public displays of anger or sadness. They make me feel weak. But my hand is clutching my phone to keep from hurling it across this motherfucking room. My eyes burn from the tears that want to fall again.
I am a mob granddaughter. I am a mob daughter. I am a mob sister. And according to Sean, I am a mob girlfriend. I do not show any emotion in public that I don’t want to. I control them. They do not control me.
I keep telling myself that as the minutes tick by, and Cormac and Seamus don’t press for more. When I’m calm enough to control my voice, I turn to them.
“Justin is likely on his way here. He’s been my bodyguard since I moved to Boston and was when I would visit. I’ve known him since we were kids. If he tries to take me from Sean, kill him.”