Chapter 17
Seventeen
LUCY
I hold Clover in one hand, clutched to my chest. In my other hand, I hold a knife. No idea if I’ll be able to use it if anybody other than Killian rushes up those stairs. The mood changed so freaking fast. One second my body was aching with all the possibilities of what we were about to do, and the next fear gripped me, making the worst-case scenario seem all too possible.
“Lucy,” Killian says, hammering his fist on the door. “We need to leave. Now. Bring Clover.”
I carry her to the door, opening it, still with the knife in my hand. He looks at it with pride clear in his eyes.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“Follow me.”
He turns and runs down the stairs. I run after him, dropping the knife when I almost fall. The last thing I want to do is slip with a blade in my hand and hurt Clover. Or myself. Killian leads me out the back entrance and around to the front.
I gasp when I see the flickering orange flames lighting up the front. “The bakery!” I yell.
“I know,” Killian roars. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but we have to go. Now. They could come back. I can’t risk you. Get in the car.”
He pushes me into the car. Ronan is in the back seat, moaning as he clutches his arm, a streak of red across his face. Killian places his gun in his waistband and hops in the car. Clover whines and buries her face against my chest.
I stare at the flickering flames, struggling to accept this is real. But I can feel the heat from here. The fire is spreading quickly.
Killian starts the engine and pulls the car away, driving down the streets.
“Those bastards ,” he bellows, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “Ronan, you okay back there?”
“Hanging… in…”
“He’s losing a lot of blood,” I say, placing Clover in the footwell and taking off my hoodie. I hand it to Ronan in the back seat. “Use this to keep pressure on your arm.”
He smiles shakily. “Thanks… you’re lucky Killian was here. I… fucked… up.”
I snap my fingers. “Hey, stay awake. Ronan, look at me.”
“I’m here,” he murmurs.
“You’re doing a good job, Lucy,” Killian says. “Keep going. You need to spread some of that luck around.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting in a waiting room with Clover in my lap. One of the male nurses tried to say dogs weren’t allowed in here, but Killian looked at him with that savagery in his blues. “She’s an emotional support animal,” he growled, and that was the end of any complaints.
Killian told me to stay here. “Don’t leave this seat under any circumstances. Always stay in sight of the staff.”
I stroke Clover gently, whispering, “It’s going to be okay, girl.” Killian called the fire department for the bakery, but who knows if they could save it? It probably burned to the ground, along with my apartment, before they got there. And what about Ronan? He had passed out by the time we reached the hospital. I haven’t even got my cellphone to contact Anna.
About fifteen minutes later, Killian returns, looking relieved to see I’m where he left me. He stands over me, ignoring the looks from the other people in the waiting room. He’s got serious manic energy going on.
“I need to get you somewhere safe,” he says.
“Killian, sit down. Lower your voice.”
He grinds his teeth, dropping into the seat next to me.
“What happened with Ronan?” I ask quietly.
“He lost a lot of blood. But he’ll live. I’ve called around to see if anybody knows about this attack. Nobody’s taking responsibility. Frank denied it. He sounded drunk when I talked to him. The fucked-up thing is, I believe him. He’s never been a good liar.”
“You think it’s Owen,” I say. “You think he orchestrated this whole thing?”
Killian sighs. “I don’t want to talk abo?—”
“About this with me?” I snap. “Newsflash, Killian. I’m already involved. You keep saying you want to keep me out of this world, but I’m in it. I’ve been in it ever since Shane showed up at my mom’s freaking funeral. They burned down the Crust , my mom’s legacy. They burned down my home. If you think there’s any chance, I’m going to let this go, you’re sorely fucking mistaken.”
He smiles, shaking his head ruefully. “You’re too fierce for your own good.”
“Well, get used to it.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I think Owen sent those assholes. I think he wants me to assume it’s Frank so he can trigger a feud between us. It’s too convenient. The rumors started with his men. Owen’s the only one who confirmed the trafficking. Colm has heard nothing about it, nor has Ronan. Owen’s the one who has contacts who suggest Uncle Frank cut my dad’s brakes… Like I said, convenient. Maybe Owen, before the end, wants to know what it’s like to be the Don.”
“You think he wants to start a feud between you and Frank so he can swoop in and pick up the pieces?”
“Exactly,” he growls. “But I can’t act on this without proof.”
“What has Owen said?”
“He suggested it might have been a random attack, a gang trying to make a name for themselves. It was weak… and obvious he didn’t want to come out and say it was Frank. That would mean overplaying his hand. He thinks he’s too damn clever.”
“Does this mean the ball will still go on?”
Killian looks at me like I’m crazy. “You’re not going to the party now, Lucy. Why would you even want to?”
“To help you,” I say.
“I don’t follow.”
“I can confront Owen. I can get the proof you need.”
Killian looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What the hell could you possibly mean by that?” he growls. “Why would you even speak to that prick? If I’m right and he’s the one who burned down the Crust, I want him as far away from you as possible. You’re the last?—”
“I’m the last person he’d expect ,” I hiss. “If he’s been pulling the strings this entire time, it means he’s in charge of the whole Family, right?”
“Right…” Killian shakes his head as if he’s disappointed in me.
“Just listen,” I snap.
“I’m sorry, a stór . I’ll listen, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to agree to anything.”
“He thinks I’m some weak, na?ve, annoying little girl who coughed up the cash to his goon because I was too scared to do anything. Sure, he knows that you’ve been visiting me, but he doesn’t know about our…”
“Relationship,” Killian says fervidly, touching my Claddagh ring, holding my hand. “Let’s call it what it is.”
Despite everything – the pain and the loss bubbling up in me – I smile. It feels easy considering all that’s happened. “Our relationship,” I go on. “He might just think you’re being a Good Samaritan, helping me. But even if he suspects we’re close, he won’t know how close, because…”
He smiles. “Because people rarely get as close as we are in a few days. Because we’re both a little crazy?”
Somehow, I laugh. It feels like a miracle. “Exactly.”
“At the party, I’ll wear a wire. We could probably find one that fits onto the necklace. Technology is crazy these days.”
“But why would he tell you anything?”
“I’ll pretend I’m scared. Well, not pretend.” I laugh humorlessly. “I’ll make out like I want to know what I have to do to rebuild the bakery and not have him burn it down again. I can read people, Killian. I spend all day every day talking with people. I watch them, learn their habits, which topics to avoid, which topics they want to talk about. He’ll never tell you the truth.”
“It’s dangerous enough taking you to the ball,” Killian says gruffly. “I’m only doing it because I can’t think of an alternative. I can’t allow?—”
“This isn’t about what you can allow ,” I hiss. “This is about ending this. About making sure nobody else gets hurt. What if we hadn’t heard? I could be dead; you could be, Clover…” I stroke my dog. “It’s time for you to accept that I’m not that same lost kid anymore. I can handle this. I can help.”
Killian runs a hand through his hair, the hospital lights glinting through it. “You don’t have any idea all the ways this could go wrong,” he says.
“I know I’m putting myself in harm’s way. Am I scared? Hell yes. Am I going to let that stop me? Hell no. Don’t lie to me, either.”
“Lie to you?”
“When you look at me like that, I know you’re proud. I know you think this plan could work. But you’ve spent so long telling yourself you have to keep me out of the mob life, you can’t let go. Well, you need to try. For me. For us.”
He touches my hand again. “You read me like a book, beautiful.”
“I know you could stop me from doing this. You could have the men loyal to you kidnap me, take me someplace else. You could start the war without proof. But you won’t. You’re not like the other mob guys. You know I have to make this choice for myself.”
He groans. “If things go south, I’ll tear apart anybody who tries to hurt you.” That familiar savage look enters his icy blues. “I’ll kill everybody in that room if I have to. I won’t let anybody touch you. Ever.”
“That sounds suspiciously like you think we’re going to have a future…”
He brings his lips to mine, kissing me gently, then whispers, “I can’t imagine letting you go. Dammit, Lucy. Okay, we’ll do this. I trust your judgment.”