5. Chapter 5 Seamus
Chapter 5: Seamus
T he Russian compound was an ugly fucking thing, all sharp angles and blank, featureless walls, like a prison or a mental asylum. Which, I supposed, wasn't too far off the mark, considering what went on behind those walls.
I shifted in my seat, my hand tightening on the grip of my gun. Beside me, Finn had his jaw clenched and his hands clenched in fists, ready for a fight. I knew he was thinking of what the Russians put Cara through before she was saved, and now Kamilla, of the hell she'd been enduring while we sat on our asses and waited for the reinforcements.
That ended tonight.
"You ready for this?" I asked, my voice low and rough in the suffocating silence of the van.
Finn nodded, his gaze never leaving the compound. "Let's fucking do this."
We slipped out of the van into the shadows. The rest of the team fanned out behind us. We’d handpicked these men, the toughest, most ruthless sons of bitches the Irish had to offer. They were killers, every last one of them, but they were loyal. They would follow us into hell, if that's what it we asked and paid for.
We made our way to the perimeter fence. The guards in the watchtowers never saw us coming, never had a chance to sound the alarm before we took them out with ruthless efficiency. Finn and I scaled the fence, then we were inside, moving through the compound. We took out the guards as we went, quick and quiet, leaving a trail of bodies in our wake. The rest of the team secured the exits, taking up their defensive positions. This was our show, mine and Finn's. Our rescue mission, our chance to make things right. Finn for revenge for Cara and mine for a sliver of a chance with Kamilla.
It took longer than anticipated, but we found her in the bowels of the compound. She was chained to the wall, her body blue with bruises and gashes, her long dark hair matted with blood and filth. Her eyes, fuck, her dark sapphire eyes were alive, blazing with a fierce, defiant fire that sent a shock of heat straight to my balls.
"About fucking time," she rasped.
I snorted. This woman was made for me.
We made short work of her chains, Finn catching her as she sagged against the wall. I could see the rage in his eyes at the way she'd been treated. Now we needed to get her the fuck out of here before the whole place came down on our heads.
"Can you walk?" I asked, slinging her arm over my shoulder.
She shot me a glare, her split lip curling in a sneer. "I'm not a fucking invalid, Paddy. I can manage."
I bit back a laugh, my chest tight with relief and something else, something I didn't care to examine too closely. Fuck, but she had balls. Most people in her position would be a gibbering wreck. She was a fighter. She'd rather chew off her own arm than show weakness in front of the likes of the Irish.
We made our way back through the compound, moving as quickly as Kamilla's battered body would allow. We were almost to the exit when all hell broke loose. Alarms blared, floodlights snapped on, and suddenly the courtyard was swarming with heavily armed Russians. Finn and I pushed Kamilla behind a wall as we laid down a hail of covering fire. The rest of the team materialized out of the shadows, engaging the enemy with the merciless precision we paid them for.
The Russians kept pouring out of every doorway and alleyway like a fucking swarm. We were outnumbered and outgunned, and I had a moment when I realized that we weren't all going to make it out of this alive.
"Finn!" I roared over the deafening chatter of gunfire. "Get her out of here! I'll cover you!"
"No! I need to kill Piotr,” Kamilla said.
"He can wait. Now get the fuck out of here!" I shouted, shoving Kamilla into Finn’s arms. "This is the only way! Now fucking go, before I shoot you myself!"
Finn gave a curt nod, before he turned and ran, half-dragging Kamilla with him as I laid down a burst of fire. I knew the odds of me making it out of this courtyard were slim to fucking none. But I found I didn't care. All that mattered was that Kamilla was safe. That Finn got her back to the Emerald Queen. Back to the safety and protection of the Irish.
I would gladly take a risk for that. It would be worth it, to know that I had given her a chance at a life beyond the horror and degradation she would have suffered at the hands of Piotr and his men. No woman deserved that.
I fought like a man possessed. I just kept firing, kept cutting down the bastards who'd dared to lay hands on my girl. My body jerked as the bullets tore through me, flesh wounds so far. A roar of engines and a loud crash sounded, as vans came through the compound gates. I heard Finn's voice call out to me and felt hands on me, dragging me up and into the back of a waiting van, as the other men piled into the other waiting vans. I knew Finn wouldn’t leave me behind.
I groaned as another bullet ripped into me before I was pushed back down as a voice told me to hang on as the van squealed out of there. That voice. It was Kamilla. I turned my head slightly. Her face was white and pinched with pain and something that looked almost like concern. She cradled my head in her lap as the van peeled away, her fingers carding through my blood-matted hair with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
"You stupid, reckless bastard," she muttered. "What the fuck were you thinking, staying behind like that? You could have been killed."
I grinned up at her, tasting blood on my teeth. "Aw, princess. I didn't know you cared."
She scowled down at me. "Fuck you, Paddy. I knew the Irish had more balls than brains."
I laughed, the sound wet and gurgling in my throat. "See, now I know you care. You’re already discussing my balls.”
She made a sound somewhere in the back of her throat, her nails digging into my scalp. "One of these days, Seamus, I swear you’ll strangle yourself with that overinflated ego of yours."
She knew my name!
I just grinned wider, letting my eyes drift closed as the rumble of the engine and the warmth of her body lulled me into darkness. "Looking forward to it, princess. Looking forward to it."
***
When I woke again, it was to the antiseptic tang of a hospital room and the beeping of machines. I was bandaged and stitched and pumped full of enough painkillers to fell a fucking elephant, but I was alive.
She was there when I opened my eyes, curled up in a chair by my bedside like a prickly, mutinous cat. Her wounds had been tended to, her skin scrubbed clean of blood and grime, but she still looked like hell from the ordeal she'd endured. But fuck, those sapphire eyes were still blazing.
"You're awake."
"So it would seem," I rasped back, my throat like sandpaper. "How long was I out?"
"Two days." She shifted in her chair, wincing as the movement pulled at her injuries. "The doctors weren't sure you'd make it. Said you'd lost a lot of blood, that the damage was extensive."
I grunted, struggling to sit up against the pillows. "Takes more than a few measly bullets to put me down for good. I'm a tough old bastard, haven't you heard?"
She snorted, her lips twitching in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "I've heard you're a reckless, pigheaded fool with a death wish. Guess I can't argue with that assessment now."
I clutched my chest in mock affront, hiding a grimace as the motion sent a lance of pain through my body. "You wound me, princess. Here I thought we were having a moment."
"A moment?" She raised one brow, her eyes glinting with something that might have been amusement. "In your dreams, Paddy. I told you, I don't owe you shit. Not for the rescue, not for taking a few bullets on my behalf. That's your job, isn't it?”
I laughed, ignoring the way it made my ribs scream in protest. "Aye, that's me. Seamus at your service. Ready and willing to slay for the low, low price of a kiss and a kind word."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes so hard I feared they might fall out of her skull. "The only thing you'll be slaying is my patience.”
I grinned. “You’re a fucking warrior queen. I’d slay for you any day."
She leaned forward, her gaze searching mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.
"I won't thank you," she said, her voice low. "Not for coming for me, not for spilling your blood on my behalf. It was a debt I never asked for, a risk you had no business taking."
I nodded, holding her gaze without flinching. "I know. But I'd do it again, a thousand times over.”
She stared at me for a long, loaded moment, her expression unreadable. And then, slowly, she leaned back in her chair, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"All the Irish are crazy."
I felt a fierce, savage joy in my chest. I was a man worthy of her. Now I just have to make her see that.