87. CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
Sick to my stomach, I stare at the mask I saw in my head as Scava attempted to rape me.
Rage filling me, I punch Eoghan in the nose. “How could you?”
“Ow!” He rubs his face with one hand and catches my fist with the other. “Curb your anger, sparkles, until we’re on the plane.”
“I’m not getting on the plane with you.”
“It’s either the O’Rourke jet, or Clark County Women’s jail,” Taryn warns.
“For what?” I bark.
“My men just texted that they found Scava’s dead body and you two are on camera fleeing the scene,” Taryn says.
“It was self-defense,” I yell. “He hit me. He tried to rape me.”
“I put a few bullets into his head too, Taryn.”
Eoghan just admitted to murder.
For me.
So, we go down together.
If you go down, I go down with you.
The auburn-haired man sitting next to Taryn shakes his head. “Don’t worry, lass. Balor and I will wipe all this off the map.”
“How… How did Scava hack the app?”
“The same way I did.” Eoghan grabs my arms. “Well, Balor did. Punch him when you see him. I’ll hold him down for you.”
“How did Scava know the app was on my phone?”
“He or his lawyer could have taken a ghost scan of your phone anytime, lass,” Shane says, turning around. “It’s what we do to check people out and look for weaknesses.”
“The fender bender,” I whisper. “The guy asked to scan my phone so he didn’t have to type any info.” I dump my head in my hands, feeling so stupid.
“He’s got sharp security experts,” Eoghan says to me, holding me. “You did nothing wrong, sparkles.”
I’m ready to argue that point but the back window shatters.
“Ahhhh,” I scream, covered in broken glass.
Looking back, my eyes struggle to see through my hair. But even with all the wind whipping around my head, I still make out a dark SUV behind us picking up speed, and a couple more trying to get around it.
Borgia.
“Jesus Christ, Taryn, step on it!” Eoghan yells, pushing my head down into his lap.
Like he hit a turbo charge button, we jerk forward and speed off, putting a safe distance between us and Borgia hitmen coming to end us.
“Where are you going?” Eoghan grabs Taryn’s shoulder from behind.
“A secure entrance.” Taryn holds up a card. “You can’t get in without a key.”
“They’re gonna break through that,” Eoghan mutters.
“That will set off alarms and send airport security to give us cover,” Taryn says.
“Shane, is the plane ready to go?” Eoghan asks his Irish friend.
“Aye.” Shane gets on his phone. “Yo, brat, we’re three minutes out. Got hitmen on our tail.”
“Who else is on the plane?” Eoghan asks him.
“Griffin,” Shane answers.
“Who’s Griffin?”
“My brother,” Shane answers.
“They’re with me.” Eoghan smiles, the wind flying through his hair, too, making him handsome, and me a mess.
We get to the gate, and Taryn waves the key. The arm opens and we fly through, just missing it.
I spin around, feeling my hands press on the shards of glass. Sure enough, the lead SUV busts through the gate. And alarms are screaming.
“There!” Eoghan yells.
A massive hangar comes into view and as we get closer, the nose of a Bombardier jet inches out.
Oh my God, we’re going to have to run for the fucking plane.
“Hold my hand. Do not let go, do you understand?” Eoghan says through clenched teeth.
He lied to me.
He played a game with me.
I’m struggling with that. And I’m confused.
But he loves me.
And I believe him.
We’re going to have a serious talk on that damn plane—if we make it.
We better because I love him, too.
I squeeze his hand. “Where you go, I go.”