Chapter 12
Rory
Declan insisted on calling one of our own ‘doctors’ to make a house call. Once the doc agreed that it was just a badly pulled hamstring, he gave her a shot, and she was off to LaLa land.
And now it’s night, and I’m sitting in the dimly lit library with Declan in front of a computer monitor on his desk, nursing a glass of whiskey as we watch the surveillance footage from the warehouse. The only sound is the crackling of the fire in the fireplace as we sit glued to the screen.
Kat walked right into the middle of a snake pit. On the recording their sneers and taunts could be heard as they grabbed her, and I wished she hadn’t killed them just so I could.
If they had been smart men, they all would have attacked at once, but they were not smart.
Two grabbed her and pulled her to the center of an open area between some crates. She made short work of them by smashing their heads together. Then she cracked her knuckles and snapped her head side to side and stood with her feet wide apart. A fighter’s stance if there ever was one. We watched in stunned silence until I broke it, shocked at what I saw.
“Jesus Christ Declan,” I mutter, as I point to the screen. “Did you see what she did there?”
His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he’s as shocked as me.
We both turned our attention back to the screen, watching as one of the men recovered, then lunged at her with a wild swing. But a blind person could see that coming, and she gracefully sidestepped, then delivered a swift kick to his ribs that sent him sprawling to the ground.
I take a long swig of my drink, the burn in my throat a welcome distraction from the images flashing before my eyes. “Five guys. Five of Donovan’s best men. And she took them out like they were nothing more than mannequins.”
Declan tapped a key, and the screen froze. “Just watch, and we will talk about it after.” He tapped the key again, and I sat there with my mouth hanging open.
The second man was more cautious, circling her with a calculating gleam in his eye. She feigned left before striking right, catching him off guard with a lightning-fast combination that left him doubled over in pain. An elbow to his spine left him slumped on the ground.
As the third guy stepped forward, she faltered. Her leg already causing her pain at that point, must have been a ghostly reminder of being dragged behind her ex’s car. Someone that I had plans for once I found out who he was.
“She’s kicking their asses with just her body,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The way she moves... It's like watching a dance. A deadly, terrifying dance if you’re on the receiving end.”
Ignoring the flare of pain I just knew was shooting up her hamstring, she was so focused when she jabbed the heel of her hand upward, catching him on the nose. Blood spurted as he howled in agony, dropping to the floor, crying about how she broke it.
The fourth and fifth men went after her together, an organized effort to overwhelm her. But she was not so easily defeated.
With each strike, she pushed through the growing ache in her leg, refusing to show any sign of weakness. One man went down just as the final charged towards her, his fist raised high for a finishing blow, she saw her opening .
With a burst of strength and speed despite her injury, she dodged his attack and landed a devastating kick to his throat. Blood spewed from his mouth as he whipped around and crumpled to the ground in a heap.
But she sadly paid a price for it. She screamed in agony the second her feet touched the floor; it was that moment her hamstring was stretched beyond its limit, but she wasn’t done. She landed on him with a thud, going after his face with her hands, smashing his head onto the floor. Then one by one, she hobbled over to each of them and gave the final death blow. A twist of their neck.
I drained my glass and filled it to the brim with more whiskey. “That was beautiful and terrifying all at once. The crack of their necks” — I shuddered — “God, I will hear that in my dreams tonight.”
Declan winces, his fingers tightening around his own glass. “The third and fourth went down similarly,” he continued, his eyes distant. “A kick to the solar plexus for one, crushed his sternum. And the other... Christ, she gouged his eyes out with her thumbs.”
I swallowed my whiskey in one gulp, trying to wash away the memory of the man’s agonized screams. “And the last one... the way she looked at him. It was like she was staring into his soul. He probably pissed himself before she even touched him.”
He shook his head. “Then she just... kicked the fuck out of him,” Declan finishes, rubbing his throat with his hand. “His throat must have collapsed like it was made of paper.”
We sit in silence for a moment, both lost in our thoughts.
“What the hell is she, Rory?” Declan finally asks. “No normal person can do what she did there.”
“She let it slip earlier today to Wren and me that she was a kickboxer. I didn’t believe her. What she is, is out of shape. From what I can gather, she hasn’t been in the ring for at least a year. Can you imagine what she was like at the peak of her career?” I asked, not expecting or wanting an answer. I then shrugged my shoulders, pouring us each another drink. “I guess that’s what a champion kickboxer fights like.”
“A champion? Good thing she’s on our side I would say,” he muttered, giving me a side eye.
“Ahh… I don’t know about that.” I take a swig of my drink and know that I should really slow down, but truth be told, I’m still shaken at the sheer power that she possessed.
Declan watches me down my drink, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he moves over to one of the leather chairs that sits before the fireplace. “Scared of her Rory?”
“Terrified,” I admit, letting a laugh escape past my lips. “You know, maybe it’s a good thing she’s rusty. She could easily kick both our asses at the same time if she wanted to.”
We both chuckle, then immediately stop when that fully sinks in.
I drop into the worn leather armchair across from Declan, the ice clinking against the glass in my trembling hand as I stare off into the fireplace, the surveillance video playing through my mind.
“Declan,” I start, my voice rough. “She’s not just some hired muscle. She’s a bloody wildfire. Uncontrolled. Unpredictable.” I let out a humorless laugh and take another gulp from my glass, feeling the burn of the whiskey as it slides down my throat. “And we’ve just invited her into our midst. I think you need to just send her back to Nevada.”
Declan doesn’t immediately respond. He leans back, fingers drumming on the chair arms. His gaze is calculating, always seeing different angles I don’t even know exist.
“You know I can’t do that. Not after my father practically gave her the position of Captain. Thank God he’s feeble minded, otherwise he would have told her everything. But imagine the chaos she could wreak among our enemies,” he finally says, his voice low and filled with a dangerous kind of excitement. “She could be the perfect weapon.”
“A weapon that could just as easily turn on us,” I remind him. My mind flashes back to the ferocity in her eyes, the effortless way her body moved—like a predator among sheep. It sends an involuntary shiver down my spine. “And what about loyalty?” I press on, needing him to see reason through his Mob-boss lens where everyone and everything is a potential asset or threat.
Declan fixes me with a look that chills my blood more than any cold-hearted killer could. “Loyalty,” he echoes mockingly, “is a luxury in our line of work.”
Frustration flares within me. How can he not see? This isn’t just about loyalty or weapons—it’s about control, and we might just unleash something neither of us can handle.
But as I stare at him, something else nudges at my mind—a dangerous thought that I’m reluctant to entertain. What if she isn’t an asset? What if she already knew all about her family up here in Canada, and she was just waiting for the perfect moment to exact her revenge.
I clear my throat and swallow the phlegm that always seems to collect there when I’m drinking and say, “There’s something I didn’t tell you yet. Earlier today she was mentioning that her 4x4 was a gift from Tomas to her mother and that her mother used it to outrun your dad.”
Declan chuckled. “Can’t say I blame the woman.”
“That’s not all. I asked why her mother left him, and it was because Kat’s grandfather didn’t like Tomas and that they were rivals.”
“Go on.” He knew where this was heading.
“She didn’t want to tell me, but I persisted and finally she said his name. Knox Lachlan.”
He leaned forward, his drink sloshing over the rim of his glass. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“I wish I was.”
He squinted in thought, like he was transformed back to that night fifteen years ago, just like I had been when I had heard the man’s name.
We sat in silence, both remembering the night when Tomas had ordered us to go to Salt Lake City for a job. We had taken the first flight out, landed at 2 am, and were told to go to this dive bar on the east side. Once there, we were to go see the bartender who passed us a sealed manila envelope. Inside, were photos and directions to a home in the swanky part of town.
We were to walk there so we were undetected but being young and having a few too many drinks at the bar, we decided to take a cab that dropped us off right out front of the house. In the dead of night, the two of us waltzed right up to the home and gained entry through a basement window. Our only saving grace was that we had the foresight to cover our heads with our hoodies. Otherwise, the teenaged girl that saw us after the deed was done, would most definitely have been able to identify us.
“You don’t suppose she knows that it was us, do you?” Declan asked, staring at the fire.
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think so. If she does, she certainly doesn’t let on.”
“We need to watch her closely,” he finally said. “I was going to put her with Davis after she healed a bit, but not now. She’s all on you.”
I nod slowly. “Agreed.”
“Find out about as much as you can, and how close her relationship with Knox was.”
He stands up to leave, then stops at the door of his office. He looks at me, and there’s a glint in his eye and I know that look.
It’s a look that tells me everything and nothing at all—that we both might be deeper than we’d like to admit. Because one thing we both learned from that job was to never leave witnesses behind, as one day, it might just bite you in the ass.
“If it was her back at that house, and she gives you the slightest inclination that she saw us, you know what to do,” Declan sighs, then leaves me there to my thoughts.
The rational part of me screams that this is insane. That she needs to be ordered to leave and never return or finish the job that we should have so long ago. But another part of me can’t help but feel fascinated by the chaos being near her will bring. Like that thrill of excitement when we had kissed. Which again, is asinine. I can’t stand the woman, so why does my dick go hard every time she looks at me?
Sitting with my drink still in hand, I realized one thing for sure; life was about to get a hell of a lot more interesting—or disastrous. Either way, it wouldn’t be boring.