25. Ronan
25
RONAN
F inn pushes the pedal down, the engine growling as we tear through the streets of Dublin. My heart is pounding in my chest. Every second counts, every passing block feels like a lifetime. I glance in the sideview mirror—my brothers are still behind me, but they’re not as close as I’d like. Too many lives are at risk. I can’t afford to lose any of them.
The sound of tires skidding on wet pavement fills my ears, but it’s drowned out by the rush of panic rising in my throat. The threat came too damn fast. Too damn sudden. I don’t have time to second-guess anything. I just need to get home. To Maeve.
Finn slams his foot on the gas harder, the car shooting down the familiar streets, but nothing feels familiar anymore. It’s as if the city has turned on me, everything now a blur of shadows and headlights. My gut twists. The closer I get to the house, the more the air thickens with dread. Adrenaline courses through my veins as we speed toward our destination. I feel the weight of responsibility heavy on my shoulders, knowing I have to protect my family no matter what.
I can see the gates before I even turn the corner, wide open like an invitation to hell. My stomach drops as we pull into the driveway, my eyes scanning the house in the distance, but all I see is… nothing. Silence. A silence that screams danger. Finn pulls the car to a stop and barely waits for it to fully halt before I’m out, my boots slamming against the cold concrete. The air is thick with the scents of damp earth and rain-soaked grass, mixed with the metallic tang of fear creeping up my throat.
The front door’s ajar. Blood. It’s everywhere, just waiting to tell me what I already know—my men didn’t make it.
I can feel the fire building inside me. I storm across the lawn, hand already on my gun, eyes darting for any movement, any sign of life, but the only thing that greets me is that damn silence.
It’s too late. Eamon’s already here.
More tires squeal on the pavement, this time my driveway. My brothers are here. Others are enroute. This is definitely a trap. Eamon has set me up. This was his plan, to make me so distracted hunting for him that he could sweep into my own home and create a strong room to make his final stand against me.
I turn to face my brothers, their faces ashen as they get out of their vehicles. “Get the fucking ambulance here now!” I bark. “And get me 999 on the line. We’re going to need all the backup we can get.” I take a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands. “Maeve,” I say through gritted teeth. “Find Maeve.”
As one unit, we move toward the house. They flank me. I know we're walking into a trap, and there will definitely be more bloodshed. I can only hope that whatever sickening plot Eamon has, he leaves Maeve out of this.
Before we even walk through the door, I send Finn and Connor around back. Lochlan steps in my way and squares his shoulders. "Ro, I should go first. He's waiting for you in there."
"Now's not the time to be a hero," I growl and start to walk around him, but he puts a hand on my chest and halts me, and Declan speaks up.
"He's right, Ronan. Let us go first and clear a path. Eamon's here for you. We have to protect our leader." Declan has finally decided to show up as the enforcer he is, and while I hate what he's saying, I know he's right. This family needs their leader, and I have to put that priority first above getting to Maeve.
Before they're even fully in the house, gunshots erupt. Bullets zing past my ears, and I crouch to use Declan's body as a shield. We open fire and advance. My men lay on the floor dead, bloodstains everywhere. I can't take time to touch them, but I know they're still warm. He hasn't even been here long enough for the authorities to have been called, so hopefully, that means Maeve is still alive, hidden somewhere.
"Eamon, show your face!" Declan's voice booms out, and we push farther into the house. Furniture is destroyed, the curtains are torn, and there isn't an area rug that isn't caked in blood.
More shots reverberate, and we duck into rooms for cover. Someone up the hallway is shooting at us, likely from the kitchen. The thick oak doors provide a modicum of protection, but too many shots and they'll splinter.
"Move, Loch!" I shout as soon as the silence comes, and we dart down the hallway. Screaming comes from out back, and Declan and Lochlan race to help our brothers, but my aim is to find Eamon.
The others must have retreated out the back of the house and Lochlan chases them out. I turn and listen to the silence in my home. The only room we didn't pass was my bedroom. I haven't seen a trace of Maeve, which means she may be in there, and while I know I shouldn't go in alone, there isn't a force on Earth strong enough to stop me.
I push open the door with my foot and enter with my gun raised, pointing into the room. I take two steps past Ryan, who lays in a puddle of his own blood near the doorway, and before I can react, something comes down on my hands hard. I'm taken by surprise in seeing the lamp from my bedside table shatter over my weapon and hands before I drop the gun and pull my arms back.
My hands are cut and bleeding, and Eamon kicks my gun away from me as he jabs his weapon against my skull and laughs.
"It's a bout fucking time you showed your face around here. I was getting bored." He nudges me with the end of the gun, and I raise my hands slowly in surrender. If I make any sudden movement, he'll kill me on the spot, but my gut tells me if I play my cards right, I may get the drop on him. His lamp-swinging goon, however, may be a problem.
"What are you doing in my home?" I ask him calmly, though on the inside I'm anything but calm. My chest is hammering. I'm ready to tear him limb from limb. I've been searching for this lunatic for almost two solid weeks now and he's finally within my reach.
"Oh, you haven't heard? I'm hunting someone… Seems like everyone's hunting lately." Eamon gives me another nudge and waves his gun at me, directing me away from the door. "I'm sure your brothers are being entertained out on the patio by now. Let's have a chat."
The muscle, some man I have never seen before, brings my armchair out and sets it in front of Eamon. He glares at me as if I'm supposed to sit down, but I never take a fight sitting down. I turn around slowly and lower my hands, facing Eamon head on. If he wants to kill me, he's going to have to look me in the eye to do it.
Eamon doesn't, though. He hands his weapon to his buddy and balls up his fist. Then he lets one blow after another fly. A few of them make me stumble backward, but if I retaliate, I'm sure I'll see the ugly end of his gun. When he plants a hard uppercut into my gut, I double over and lean on the chair for support to catch my breath, and he waits.
"You know, Ronan, if you would've just let me take the lead, none of this would've happened." He brings his knee up hard, but I turn my face away, catching his blow on my shoulder. I stumble backward and clench my jaw, ready to pounce, but the glint of steel out of the corner of my eye reminds me to bide my time.
"If I'd have let you lead, half the city would be on fire right now." I glare at him and reach up and wipe blood from my lip. Every drop of my blood that he spills will be a pint of his that stains my floor.
"Benny had it coming, Ro…" He laughs and takes another swing at me, and I grab his wrist and twist it, shoving him backward. The fact that he can laugh so cruelly about murdering our cousin makes me sick.
"Benny was your blood, Eamon. You deserve the pit of hell for that." His muscle strikes me on the head with the gun, and I drop to my knees, loosing Eamon's hand. My knees hit the ground hard, and I grunt as Eamon donkey kicks my ribs, but I don't fall over. I can't let him get me lying down. I force myself back up, and he shoves me so hard into the wall I hear the drywall snap.
"Benny refused to listen to me, and he paid the consequence of that action." Eamon spits on my chest and holds his hand out to his buddy, who places the gun in his palm. "And when your blood is spilled on this wall, your brothers are going to know I'm the true leader. They'll have no choice. Our fathers laid it out for them."
There is no such line of succession anywhere in written record, but I have no doubt he has some fake documentation for it. He'll do anything to get what he wants. My eyes flick around the room as Eamon takes a step backward and raises his weapon. With only one gun between the two of them and my gun lost under the bed somewhere, this fight is growing a little more fair.
"They will fight you to the death," I argue, wondering where Maeve is. What has he done with her?
"And they'll die traitors." His gun presses against my chest and he smirks. "And I'll have the heir all to myself."
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I squint at him. "What are you saying?" I swallow the knot in my throat and clench my jaw. Eamon is a lot of things, but foolish isn't one of them. If he's baiting me, it's for a reason.
"Oh, you can't expect me to think you have no clue?" He offers a sardonically skeptical look and scoffs. Then says over his shoulder, "Bring her out."
The instant he uses that pronoun, I know he's talking about Maeve. I haven't seen her since we walked in and I need to know she's safe. My blood thrums past my eardrums, deafening the sounds of shouting and gunfire around back. The faint din of sirens in the distance announces the garda, and I only have minutes to finish this.
But the hulking asshole who cut my hands to hell with a smashed lamp walks over to my closet. He opens the door, and I see Maeve immediately. She's on her knees, hands tied behind her back, a white cloth lashed around her mouth to prevent her from making noise. I lean forward to go to her, and Eamon pushes the gun into my chest hard.
"Back off or you're dead," he growls, and I lean back. She's alive, at least, and that's what matters. But now the stakes are higher. I have to take out two men by myself and fight a loaded weapon while protecting her. My mind races with thoughts, trying to make a plan.
"Tell him, sweetheart," Eamon urges, and the man with the muscle grabs her by the hair and drags her out. She screams and kicks, and I feel like something inside me is going to explode if he lays one fucking finger on her.
When he rips the gag off her mouth, she sobs. "Ronan… please…."
"I'm here. It's going to be okay," I tell her, but in the back of my mind I don’t know if it is. I'm outnumbered.
"Tell him now. Tell him why Butcher is dead. Tell him your little secret." Eamon isn't stupid enough to turn the gun on her, so he has his goon threaten her. The man wraps his hand around her neck, and he can almost close his fingers entirely. He's massive, and she seems so small and frail right now.
"Ronan, I’m pregnant. They want to kill our baby… please." She sobs hard, and then her sobs are choked off as the man grips her neck harder, stopping her from breathing. She can't fight him or stop him.
She's pregnant? With my baby? And she never told me… And now it all makes sense. It's why Eamon killed the doctor, to keep him from telling me so he could plan this. He's going to kill her and he's going to make me watch.