Chapter Thirty-Five
Rory
Cillian’s arms wrap forcefully around me, holding me in place.
“That motherfucker hit Shai.”
“I know, and we’ll fucking kill him, but you’ve got to be patient.”
He’s right. I know he is. Taking off through the woods on my own won’t solve anything, but it’s torture just standing here.
“He’ll be okay, Ror. I promise you. Nothing will happen to our boy. We won’t let it.”
His words soothe something inside me, the way they always do.
I understand what Cillian is saying, what his use of the words our and we means.
It’s the same thing his actions have been saying all night, and the same thing I’ve felt changing and growing within the past few weeks, but right now I can’t concentrate on anything but Shai.
“They have his guns. He’s in there alone. Why are we waiting?”
“Because he hasn’t given us the sign that he can get to Kat yet.
” It’s on the tip of my tongue to say fuck Kat.
I don’t give a shit about her. Only him.
But I know what it will do to Shai if he can’t save her, if he can’t be the hero he’s always been for her—the hero she better fucking learn to appreciate.
“We have to give him this,” Cillian continues. “He needs it.”
“I know, God, I fucking know, and it’s killing me.” I pull away from Cil.
“But you’re doing it. When it counts you’re doing it, all of it—letting him go in there alone, listening to Rian, waiting for the sign. The control you need is in you. It always has been.”
Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Shai helped me find it. Shai, Cillian, and Ollie. The fact that I’m not in that fucking house already is more than I ever thought I could accomplish.
“Yeah, well, don’t think this means you’re not responsible for me anymore, because you are. Bunny too. And Shai.” My Shai.
Cillian gives me a mischievous grin. “Fuck yes we are. You’re ours, Ror. Always.”
More rustling comes through the comms, the sound muffled, distorted, like the connection is jammed or the unit messed up. But then I hear Shai say, “You’re so fucking dead, and you don’t even know it. I will kill you, and if I can’t, Rory will. He will bathe in your fucking blood.”
That’s it. My name. It’s time.
I hear Shai grunt in pain, and then…nothing. The connection is gone.
“Let’s go,” Rian says. “Now.”
He’s on the other side of the house, all of us spread out so we can come in from different angles.
Cil and I make a run for it, side by side, my person right there with me to go save the man I love.
Butt of the rifle against his shoulder, Cillian shoots a guy to our right, the large body, all dressed in black, immediately falling to the snow.
My brain is in that place it goes where I’m disconnected from my body, from the world around me, but this time I’m laser-focused: Find Shai.
Protect him. Find that control. Bring him home.
I shoot another man, keep moving. Step over his body.
Shai.
Shai.
Shai.
Did he get to his mom? Did he find a weapon?
He’ll be okay. I know he will be.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
My head is all over the place.
I take another shot, then another, as we creep around the side of the old house. Tiernan and Dean come around the front the same time we do. There’s a dead body on the porch, the back of his head blown off. Conan and Rian must already be inside.
Tiernan nods for me and Cil to go first. I know he’s doing that for me.
For the first time, I notice the gunfire going on inside, like my brain had blocked it out until I could see that fighting with my own eyes. My gaze shoots around the room, searching for Shai or Kat, but I don’t see either of them.
“Rory!” Cillian shouts just as something hits me across the back. I stumble, pain searing through me, before my best friend shoots the man who hit me, a metal bar falling from his grasp.
“Thank you.” I grin, this wild, manic smile I know has no business on my face right now.
I’m being eaten from the inside out, all worry and adrenaline, this potent cocktail that’s making me feel like I don’t fit in my own skin.
I’m stuck between that place that enjoys this, loves the violence, and my fear for Shai, because if he doesn’t make it, there’s no Rory without him.
Not now that I have him. No sitting in a bloody bed for eight hours is bringing me out of it, the way it did with my mom.
I’ll be completely gone, and I can’t imagine what that will do to Cillian.
“I’m finding him,” I say to Cillian.
“Not without me.”
We nod at each other, understanding reflecting back at me.
This is a fucking disaster. I don’t know how we’ll deal with this mess, but I don’t care about that. I just want this motherfucker dead and my man home.
My finger stays on the trigger, Cillian beside me as we search the house. I push open a door—a bedroom—do a quick sweep, but no one’s inside.
When I hear a tumbling sound above us, I head straight for the stairs, heart in my throat.
There’s a guy there when I hit the top, gun pointed at me.
Before he can realize what I’m doing, I lunge at him, taking him by surprise.
He stumbles into the wall, my fist connecting with his face, before grabbing his wrist and slamming it against the wall, knocking the gun free.
Mine is strapped to my torso, but instead I pull a knife from my sheath, slit his throat, and watch the thick red blood spill free. He drops to the ground.
When I turn around, Cillian’s fighting someone too, my heavy feet taking me there, and I plunge the blade into his back.
He screams in pain, and then Cillian kicks him, picks up his handgun, which fell to the ground, and puts a bullet in his head.
Blood splatters my face and chest, but I ignore it, forehead pressed against Cillian’s.
“Fuck yes,” he says.
A banging sound comes from down the hallway, like a body hitting a wall, just before Kat screams. Two more men come running up the stairs.
“Go!” Cillian shouts at me, and for a split second, I pause. “Fucking go!” he says again, and I trust him, have to trust him to be able to handle this on his own as I take off running down the hallway, burst into the room to see her in the corner, legs free but wrists zip-tied.
Shai and a man I assume is Jagger are fighting, hand to hand, rolling around, trading blow for blow.
They’re both bloody, Shai’s eye black, Jagger bleeding from what looks like a knife wound to the shoulder.
My heart slams against my chest, head throbbing, blood rushing through my ears as I try to get a clean shot but can’t.
No way I can shoot Jagger without running the risk of hitting Shai.
My knife has never felt so good in my hand.
Just as I’m about to lunge for Jagger, I realize what’s happening too late—there’s a gun on the ground, Jagger rolling off Shai, both of them clamoring for it, trying to fight each other off and get to it first. Jagger’s bloody hand reaches it, grabbing the handgun and raising it toward Shai.
Everything happens all at once. Jagger aims at Shai, and before I can get the shot off, Kat leaps onto him, throwing herself between Shai and Jagger.
His gun goes off just before the knife she’s holding in both hands plunges into his chest. The bullet rips through her arm, but that doesn’t stop her from tugging the knife out and plunging it into him again, over and over, Jagger falling to his back, Kat straddling him, ripping at his body, tearing him apart with the blade.
Blood pours out of him, gurgles in his throat, hers mixing with his as she gives in to the beast inside her, a beast I know well.
“Mom…Mom, stop. He’s dead. You’re bleeding. You’ve been shot.” Shai talks to her gently, trying to calm her down. He’s…fuck, he’s a mess, beaten and bruised himself. “Mom, it’s okay. He’s gone.”
He gently takes hold of her arm, getting her to stop stabbing him. I see the moment she’s shocked back into her body, when she realizes what’s happened. The knife falls free, her eyes wide. “Shai…I’m so sorry. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Did he shoot you?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “He shot you.”
She looks down, sees the blood oozing from her right arm, her wrists still together.
“Oh my God,” she says, falling to the ground beside Jagger.
“Rory…help,” Shai begs. I rush over, use my knife to cut her wrists free, then pull off my shirt to wrap it around her wound. He’s holding her, sitting on the ground, her head in his lap.
“I was so scared,” Kat whispers. “I thought…I thought he would kill you. I can’t…I know I’m not a good mom, but I love you so much, Shai.”
“Shh. It’s okay. I know.”
I tie the shirt on her arm, trying to stop the bleeding. When I hear footsteps behind me, I whip around, gun aimed. “It’s just me,” Cil says, and my body relaxes.
More footsteps follow, Tiernan, Dean, Rian, and then Conan—who’s been shot in the shoulder.
“We need to get the fuck out of here now,” Rian tells us. “Finan is monitoring calls, and it doesn’t look like anyone heard or called 911.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Did you call people in?” Tiernan asks.
“Finan’s on it,” Rian replies. “Flynn’s coming out with a group.”
“Come on, Mom. Let’s go.” Shai looks at me. “Will you help me with her?”
I can’t help but lean forward and seal my mouth to his, tasting his blood and tears on his lips. “Always.”
I help him to his feet, then Kat. She puts her good arm around Shai’s shoulders as I help on her other side, everyone quiet as we make our way through the wreckage and back to the van.
“Two gunshot wounds?” Finan asks.
“Yeah, motherfucker got the drop on me. I cut his heart out,” Conan says, plopping into a seat.
“Get us the fuck out of here,” Rian orders. “I’ll clean them.”
I’m not surprised Finan heads toward Boston, nor when Cillian calls Ollie so he and Ash can meet us there, but I can’t pull my attention from Shai.
He sticks to his mom like glue, helping Rian clean her wound, before giving her a pill that knocks her out.
Shai holds her the whole time in the car, head turned, though, so he’s looking at me.
I twine our fingers together, needing to be connected to him. “I thought…”
“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m here. I thought I was going to lose you too.”
“Impossible.” I kiss his temple. “I’ll stalk you even in death.”
“If you go, I go with you,” he says, and is that healthy? Fuck no. Is it us? Yes.
“If you go, I go with you too.”
The car is mostly silent after that. They take us to Fia’s, where the doctor we pay to fix us when we’re fucked up is already waiting. They take Conan and Kat to a room where two hospital beds have been prepared for them.
“I…” Shai starts like he’s not sure what to say or do.
“It’s okay. We’ll take care of her. I’m Fia. You must be Shai. I’ve heard all about you.” She gives Shai the kindest, most loving smile. This woman has been more of a mom to me than my own was able to be, and I’ll always love her.
“He’s mine,” I tell her proudly. I’ve never had something or someone that’s mine this way, and I want everyone to know it.
“I know.” She runs her hand through my hair, then kisses my cheek, before giving Shai a hug. “You boys go get cleaned up. She’s asleep and will be for a while. We’ll take care of her. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
Shai lingers, looking at his mom, then me, before he nods. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Pfft. You don’t have to call me that.”
I smile when he blushes. “Come on,” I say.
We walk over to Kat’s bed, and he whispers something in her ear, then lets me lead him away—I have a room I always stay in at Fia’s. We strip out of our clothes, then climb into the en suite shower together.
“It killed me to be away from you.” I wrap my arms around him, blood and grime running down our bodies and down the drain.
“I know. I want you by my side. Always. But you did it, you did it because that was the best thing to do.”
I did. I proved I could do what needs to be done, even with Shai in the mix.
“My mom…”
“She’s okay, baby.”
“She saved me…she took a bullet for me. She…”
“Loves you,” I finish for him. “I like her better now.”
He chuckles, then buries his face in my neck. “I love you so much.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to kill him for you. I should have done that.”
“I think…I think she needed to do it. I don’t fucking care. I’m just glad he’s dead.”
“No one will ever hurt you again.” I take the soap and begin washing him, scrubbing every inch of his body, kissing each and every bruise, before Shai does the same for me, slow, gentle touches, lazy kisses, stroking hands, until we’re rinsed clean, cocks hard.
“Come on.” I grab a towel, drying him the way he’d done for me that night I lost myself after Bruce, then let Shai return the favor.
We climb into bed together, naked, aching, just feeling, lying on our sides, looking at each other.
“I have a family,” he says.
“You do.”
“Cillian called his father for me. It’s like everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours is hitting me now.”
I run my hands up and down his back, savoring the feel of his hot skin, the muscles beneath and the curves of his body. “He loves you too, in the same way I love Ollie.”
Shai nods, opens his mouth to speak, but the soft knock on the door stops him.
“Who is it?” I call out, but I already know. Tonight was…a lot. People were shot. We were hurt. We could have died, and just like I can’t stop touching Shai, just needing to feel him, breathe him in, I know that the need for connection exists outside the walls of this room too.
“It’s me and Ollie,” Cillian says.
My skin prickles, need rising and nearly spilling over.
Shai’s breath hitches, his hold on my hip tightening. He knows too. Still, I ask, “Do you know why they’re here?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?” I ask him. “I would give it up for you if that’s what you wanted.” It would kill me—Cillian and Ollie too—but I would do it. “It’s up to you. It is always up to you.”
“You,” he answers simply. “Them. Us. I want it all. Every part of you.”
I smile, and he kisses it, the tingling in my skin growing, but more than that, more than the sex, it’s that feeling of completeness in my chest, the way my heart grows so big, it doesn’t feel like it fits anymore. “I want that too,” I tell him, and then louder say, “Come in.”