27. Ronan
27
RONAN
" L et her go!" I scream, but the man only grins at me as Eamon shoves me against the wall again.
"You're going to watch her die, and then I'm going to pick you apart. Your blood will join the rest of your men's blood, and if your brothers are wise, they'll support me. Or they'll join you too."
Maeve writhes, unable to bring her hands up to fight the man, and suddenly, I feel a surge of energy and rage. I don't stop to think about the gun or dying. I don't pause to worry about myself or my family. The only thing that matters is saving her. I need her.
I scream as loud as I can as I lunge forward, shoving Eamon so hard he falls backward over the bed. His feet fly into the air, and the gun goes off as he rolls. Then I lurch into the man holding Maeve, and he lets her go. She drops to the ground gasping for air as he tries to stand, but I'm too close already. I swing my leg forward and kick him in the jaw, making him fall backward.
When he hits the ground, I dive on top of him, pounding my fists into his face, and by then Eamon is back on his feet. With one swift movement, I grip the man's lapels and roll hard to my right, making him swap places with me just as Eamon fires a shot, hitting him. Using him as a human meat shield wasn't my intention, but it works. Eamon fires one more shot, and it sails past us both, lodging in the floor, and I shove the bleeding man off my body. There's a high chance he'll be dead in seconds, so I dart off the ground and charge at my evil cousin.
Maeve is still crying, and it looks like Eamon’s weapon is out of rounds. His slide is locked all the way back, and he throws the gun at me as I stalk forward. It hits my leg, and I draw back my hand and unleash all my strength into one blow that slams into his face.
He stumbles into the bathroom and tries to shut the door, but I throw my shoulder into it, forcing him backward. He crashes into the shower door, shattering it and falling down, and in seconds, I have a shard of glass in my hand, kneeling over him.
"You've done enough killing. Your time is over, Eamon. I wish you could have just done what our fathers wanted." I grab him by the tie and hold the shard of glass to his throat as he stares up at me with a smug look.
"Go ahead, kill me. You win," he grunts, and for a moment, I think about Maeve and how she will feel knowing I've murdered someone with my own hands right in front of her. But I know Eamon is a snake. If I wait for the police to show up, even the ones loyal to me might not be able to stop him again.
The glass presses into his throat just above his jugular, but I'm careful not to apply too much pressure. He knows he's defeated now and that I hold the power to kill him or let him go. He knows what I have to do. He's not a fool. If it were reversed, he'd kill me. He would've if I hadn’t gotten the drop on him just now. But he toyed with me too long and lost his shot.
"You did this all for power?" I'm out of breath, feeling the sting of pain in my chest where he shot me. Everything else is numb, though my hands bleed from the cuts left when he smashed the lamp over them. It's like the scars he left on my body are reignited just by being near him, as if he left a toxin in them that will only heal when I have my vengeance.
"I did it because it's the right thing." Even now, his arrogance is costing him. He's always had a problem with authority. He's always looked at our fathers and despised my family because his father wasn't the chosen leader when our grandfather died. He's always been jealous that I would be the chief of this family one day, and he waited until our fathers died to enact his evil plan.
"You don't know right from wrong…" I push the glass harder against his skin and see the first droplets of blood appear, staining the broken shard. "This isn't what your father wanted."
"My father was a fool. He let your family rule everything when he had more ability and desire to be the head of this family than anyone else." Eamon grips my wrist with both hands and snarls at me. He's going to take his anger to the grave rather than confess that he is wrong and beg forgiveness. It would be honorable if he were actually right, but this cockiness is disgusting.
"You tried to get my brothers to turn on me." I grip him by his lapel and shake him hard, but he doesn't let go of my wrists. He's insane. He's literally asking me to kill him by refusing to repent.
"Your brothers know what's right, Ronan. I'm just the head. The snake still lives."
The glass pushes against his vocal cord so hard he chokes a little and gags, but I don't allow the edge to cut any deeper yet.
"What do you mean?" I'm so angry I don't know if I'm going to remember any of this, and I hear noise in the other room that alerts me to the fact that I probably don't have much time. My friends on the force will be here. If my brothers have finished with Eamon's men out back, we'll need a cleaner. There is a huge mess to deal with, and I have to make sure Maeve is alright.
Not to mention the baby… I'm going to be a father? It's all so much to process, and channeling my anger toward Eamon is what's keeping me sane right now.
"I mean," he says, forcing every word to creep through his constricted airway, "there are others… They're coming. You can't stop us. I may not be here after today, but you haven't killed the snake. You're just cutting off the head. A new head will grow back and?—"
I can't listen to him anymore at all. My rage makes me snap. I swipe my hand across his throat hard, slicing through his skin and muscle. It cuts deep into his neck, severing his jugular, and blood begins to spurt out. His eyes go wide as he realizes he can't speak anymore, the cut so deep it penetrates his vocal cords, and he begins to gag and cough, sputtering blood through his mouth.
I drop him and stand, staring down at his life slowly fading from his body. For a moment, all I can do is stand there gripping the shard of glass and feeling it cut my own flesh. I feel a sense of relief that my enemy for the time being is dead, but I also feel dread at hearing his words. There are more of them coming, and that means the fight isn't over.
But while the greater war may still rage, I've won this battle. I suck in a deep breath and drop the shard of glass, then I turn and walk away as he clings to his life, gripping his neck in a desperate attempt to stop himself from bleeding out. But all he can do is writhe and gag.
When I walk back into the bedroom and see Maeve on the floor with her eyes closed, my heart pinches with fear again. The man who had his hand around her throat is still alive, but barely. I ignore him as I drop to my knees next to her and press two fingers into her neck. She still has a heartbeat, and it floods my entire being with relief.
I need to get her out of here, get her someplace safe. So I scoop her up and cradle her to my chest as I walk toward the front door. When I emerge from the house, police officers are already storming the property. A few of them notice me, but I know them. They make eye contact and walk right past me as if they know what to do. They know not to stop me.
Maeve is limp, probably passed out from shock. I lay her in my back seat and climb into the car ready to flee. The only thought in my head is of putting space between us and the horrible scene my home has become.
Blood makes my hands stick to the steering wheel, and I pull out onto the highway, not sure where I'm even going. My mind is racing, replaying everything that just happened over and over. There were so many things I should've said to Eamon, but none of it matters now. Nothing I could ever have said to him would have undone the things he set in motion. He ignited a war against my family I don’t know how to stop.
When I finally come out of my own shock following the events at my home, I find myself on the northern outskirts of town. I pass a few motels and pull into a nicer hotel. Maeve is still resting, probably overwhelmed by the heavy emotions she experienced while they held her captive. She has a bruise on her right cheek, and it makes me angry that someone struck her, but she's alive. That's what's important.
I walk into the hotel and use the restroom just off the lobby to wash my hands and remove the blood. There's nothing I can do about the blood on my shirt, splattered there when I slit Eamon's throat, so I button my suit coat to hide most of it and then make my way to the registration counter. I secure a room and get the key, then head back to the car to get Maeve, who is finally stirring.
I'm not letting her out of my sight again, not now that I know she's pregnant. If Eamon was bold enough to come right into my home and hold her at gunpoint, who knows what those who are on his side will do. He had personal reasons to want me dead, and they clouded his judgment when it came time to actually pull the trigger. He couldn’t resist pouring salt into the wound.
My gut tells me his allies also want me dead, probably for more ruthless reasons than to lead my family. And men like that won't hesitate to pull the trigger or give their bad guy monologue to me before doing the deed. Anyone who learns I have an heir coming will leap at the chance to destroy me, and that's a risk I'm not willing to take.