Chapter 20
TWENTY
Devlin
Although I’d never met the Russos, I’d definitely heard of them. And from what I’d been told, they weren’t stupid. But they were human, and humans made mistakes. They likely weren’t ready for Cian’s retaliation.
We drove in three separate cars. Cian and I were in one car, with Jace and Rhys in the back seat.
Mads and Hack were in another. And there were six more men in a van.
The Russos had been known to run with a whole crew, and from what Hack could tell on the satellite images, there could be up to a dozen men inside the safe house.
Which had turned out to be more like a mansion in the woods.
Hack had been able to get us blueprints of the house, but that only told us so much.
We didn’t know where the men would be located, or where their weapons were stashed.
The place was armed to the teeth with security, and while Hack could disable the alarm system and any cameras, there were still a lot of variables.
This wasn’t just about Cian’s livelihood. The livelihoods of all the O’Shea crew hinged on this, too. The Bonnams were wiped out, either killed or deserted, and Cian wasn’t about to let that happen to his crew.
Whereas I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him. And maybe a small part of me had also begun to feel attached to some of the others. Namely Rhys and Jace.
Jace had been visiting me more often. We played poker, or watched baseball, or made fun of Cian. Even Rhys had been forced to acknowledge my presence.
It was after midnight when we finally neared the cabin location.
Rhys began to speak to Jace in low tones.
He wore a gun harness and a belt full of knives, like a video game character, and he practically vibrated in his seat.
I’d expressed my worry to Cian about Jace being on this job, but Cian had only snorted, saying Jace was one of the most capable men in his crew.
So now I just had to trust that the pretty-boy menace with the diamond stud earrings, pierced tongue, and too-white grin could kill some fuckers.
I was staring out my window as Cian rolled to a stop at a red light, so I wasn’t prepared when fingers gripped my hair and tugged backward. My neck arched, and Cian’s face suddenly filled my vision. He looked mad. Why the fuck was he mad? I hadn’t even said anything for at least an hour.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he growled at me, like he’d created an entire scenario in his head and was already pissed at me for it. “Do you hear me, devil?”
I swallowed and nodded slowly. His nostrils flared, and he released me with a shove.
He stared straight out the front windshield, gripping the steering wheel so hard his leather gloves creaked.
Cian drove for another mile before he spoke again, his voice low enough that the two in the backseat wouldn’t hear over the roar of the engine.
“I want you with me, I just don’t want you here. ”
Cian didn’t like having big feelings, and this was a situation he couldn’t fully control. He was worried about me, so naturally, that pissed him off.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “This isn’t my first ambush. It’s not even my first time hunting down a pair of contract killers. I’m a good shot, too. You’ll see.”
His jaw worked. My words clearly didn’t appease him.
He’d held me so tightly last night, one hand collaring my neck and the other across my hips as we lay on our sides in bed.
He hadn’t said much, only burrowed his nose in my hair.
If he thought he was going to leave me behind while he fought the Russos and their crew, he was insane.
We parked at the location Hack had directed us to and gathered all our gear, planning to continue on foot. Hack remained in the van with his computer and headphones, while everyone else, including me, wore an earpiece so we could communicate.
I’d sat in on the meeting where they’d laid out the plan.
While Cian made the final decisions, he’d accepted input from his men—especially Hack and Rhys.
And he knew each of his men’s strengths in a way I admired.
The plan was to capture the twins and interrogate them about who ordered the hit on Cian.
Everyone else in the house was expendable.
While the rest of the meeting had been spent ironing out details, I’d also learned “Hack” was just a nickname. Not exactly the most creative choice for a computer hacker. But no one had offered his real name, and I hadn’t asked.
Cian handed me a Glock 17, and I slid my fingers over the cool metal.
For a moment, I remembered my old life. The one where I’d wielded a weapon like a third arm.
I hadn’t touched a gun in over a year, but this one fit my hand like I’d never been without it.
I checked the safety, then tucked it into the holster on my belt.
The moonlight reflected in Cian’s haunting eyes as he watched me.
He adjusted my holster, tightened the straps on my bulletproof vest, and even checked my shoelaces.
He tilted my chin up so he could study my face, and maybe on another day, I would’ve mocked him just to see how far I could push him.
But today wasn’t the day. Cian was on edge, and I needed him calm enough to concentrate.
He already seemed distracted by my presence, and I didn’t want that.
I almost offered to stay behind in the van with Hack.
But then who would watch out for Cian? When push came to shove, I was the only one I trusted to save him over myself.
In groups of two, we filtered out into the woods surrounding the cabin.
Each of us had studied the map and knew our route—even Jace, who currently walked alongside Rhys with a bounce in his step.
He gave me a cocky salute right before they went out of sight behind a cluster of trees, his white teeth flashing in the moonlight.
Cian moved with nearly silent footsteps, which was impressive for a man his size. His shoulder brushed mine as we walked, and whenever we had to separate because of the terrain, we’d wordlessly return to each other’s sides.
Hack tracked our locations from the van so he’d know when to disable the cameras.
There were several hidden in the trees surrounding the property, with many more attached to the house itself.
I dropped to a crouch as we reached the tree line surrounding the cabin and checked the time.
Everyone should’ve been at their assigned positions around the property by now, ready to breach the cabin from all its entry points—the front door, back door, and two side doors—all at once.
We waited for Hack’s confirmation. “Everyone’s in place.”
That was Cian’s cue to move in, with me right on his heels. Rhys’s large form emerged from the trees, weapon drawn as he approached the side door. Jace practically bounced behind him like an overeager bunny, twirling a knife in one hand and a gun in the other.
As soon as Cian and I reached the front door, we were met with an audible click as the lock disengaged—thanks to Hack… hacking the system. Cian glanced behind him. Our eyes met, and I nodded once. Then he pushed open the door.
Gunfire immediately greeted us from somewhere deep in the house, a clash of the muffled pops of our silencers and the deafening bangs of the Russos’ guns. Someone cried out. Another man shouted a curse. Then footsteps pounded across the floor upstairs. Bare feet. We’d caught some of them in bed.
We crept down the hallway, hugging the wall as a man burst from the door on our right and skidded barefoot into the corridor. He wore a pair of unbuttoned jeans and nothing else, and a handgun hung loosely from his hand. Cian took him out with one clean shot.
Glass shattered from somewhere in the house. Jace cackled. Rhys shouted a reprimand.
A man suddenly appeared behind us with a shotgun, and he managed to get a shot off just as I sent a bullet into his chest. His slug exploded the drywall above our heads.
I sputtered a cough through the dust as a body slammed into me from the side.
Cian shouted, but I was already handling it.
I pulled a knife from my belt and drove it into the next man’s neck before yanking it free.
Blood arced in the air, and I knew I’d hit his jugular.
He fell onto his back, clutching his throat.
He’d bleed out soon, but I put a bullet in him anyway for good measure.
Cian squeezed off another two rounds. The only answer was the gurgling gasp of a man who’d been shot somewhere vital. As we entered the massive two-story living room, complete with a giant chandelier and floor-to-ceiling windows, we were met with chaos.
Men shot at us from the second-floor balcony, and Cian dove behind a couch for cover as a bullet pinged off the hardwood floor near his boot.
Jace, who’d come from who fucking knew where, raced up the stairs with his gun already drawn and firing.
A man stumbled back from the force of the bullet and flipped over the railing, dropping to the ground with a sickening thud.
Bullets flew in every direction, and the smell of gun smoke filled my nostrils.
Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream, and I fought to keep my hands from shaking as I lifted my gun and fired at the last man on the balcony.
I wasn’t sure if my bullet or Jace’s had been the one to end him, but the man stumbled into the wall behind him and dropped, leaving a streak of blood behind.
Cian slammed another magazine into his gun. “Where the fuck are the Russos?”
“Second floor clear!” Jace called over the balcony railing. A dark smear of blood stained his cheek.
“First floor clear,” Tyson said as he emerged from a hallway, clutching his bloody left arm.
Cian took a step toward him. “You all right?”
“Knife,” Tyson grunted. “I’ll be fine.”
What felt like a small earthquake rumbled beneath our feet. “Garage door!” Hack hollered through our earpieces.
Our men were already stationed outside guarding the garage, and as we raced out the door, an engine roared to life. A Range Rover burst through the partially open garage door, tearing the bottom section clean off and sending debris flying across the yard.
“That has to be them!” Cian yelled. “Shoot the tires!”
But this was a Range Rover, not some tiny Kia. It was clear the Russos knew this was it—do or die. If they made it to the main road, we were fucked. Hack was in no position to chase them alone, and we had to run a mile back to where we’d parked.
Bullets pinged off the Range Rover as the driver spun out, and Cian took off running to block their escape. The passenger side window lowered just as the tires gained traction on the gravel driveway. A hand emerged holding a SIG Sauer. Pointed directly at Cian.
My heart lodged in my throat. From somewhere in the yard, Jace wrenched out an anguished cry. “Cian!”
I stepped directly in front of the vehicle barreling down the driveway. Paul Russo was behind the wheel, and when he turned forward again, our eyes met. His lips curled back into a snarl as he accelerated.
“Devlin!” Cian roared.
I lifted my gun and aimed straight at the windshield. Then I fired.
But not before Paul yanked the wheel hard to the left, sending the SUV into a spin.
The gun in Joseph Russo’s hand, pointed out the passenger side window, was aimed right at me.
I fired at the car again. And then my fucking gun jammed.
I stared down the barrel of the gun, and the world seemed to slow.
Joseph grinned a bloody smile, and his arm flexed as he prepared to fire a shot between my eyes.
I thought I’d feel peace. This was what I’d wanted, right?
For it all to be over? At least this death would be for something better than myself.
For Cian. But that goddamn flame in my chest flickered.
Protested. I closed my eyes and pictured Cian’s face.
I pictured the future I’d let myself imagine in my weakest moments.
Lazy mornings in bed. Late nights eating greasy food at O’Shea’s.
Watching the new orca documentary the Nature Channel had been teasing.
I didn’t deserve any of those things. I didn’t deserve anything I’d been given, either. I had to be okay with this.
I waited for the sound of the shot, but it never came.
Then a few things happened all at once. A loud crack.
Then another. Glass shattering. I opened my eyes to see the Range Rover spinning out of control as it hit the edge of a steep bank.
The tires caught, and the vehicle launched into the air before slamming back down on its windshield with a sickening crunch.
Then came a nasty hiss. Something sparked.
and flames erupted from the smashed hood.
Jace and Rhys crouched over a big, unmoving lump on the gravel, and horror slammed into me when I realized it was Cian.
As I stumbled toward them, the lump finally moved.
Cian pushed up onto all fours with a groan.
Blood coated the side of his face, and he shook his head to clear it as the other two helped him to his feet. “Dev,” he murmured. “Where’s Devlin?”
I stopped moving. Jace spotted me first, scanning me from head to toe before replying. “Your boyfriend appears unharmed. You’re the dumbass who threw yourself in front of a fucking Range Rover driven by twin assassins who wanted you dead.”
Men swarmed the burning vehicle as smoke and flames billowed from the hood.
“We can’t get to them!” someone hollered.
“No way they survived that, even in a Rover!” another man yelled.
Cian swayed on his feet, and I saw red. I marched straight up to him and jammed a finger into his chest. “What the fuck was that? We needed them alive!”
Cian glared at me. “He was going to fucking shoot you.”
Blood streamed down his face, and seeing his injuries only fueled my wrath. “So?” I threw up my hands, my face flaming with fury. “That was stupid. You could have been killed.”
“I knew what I was doing, and I had it under control. You could have been killed,” he snapped back at me.
“Oh. You had it under control,” I mocked. “That was a stupid fucking risk. I don’t have a brother who loves me, or a crew to lead. You do. They can’t replace you, Cian.”
He surged forward, face like thunder. Gripping my shirt in his bloody fist, he hauled me against his body. “You’re irreplaceable to me. Don’t you get it? You’re irre-fucking-placeable.”
He shoved me away, and I stumbled back only to fall on my ass. He leaned over me with a snarl. “Pull shit like that again, and I’ll tighten your leash until you can’t breathe without me.”
He stalked away, and I remained on the ground with my fingers curled into the wet grass. Flames from the burning car heated my face. But they had nothing on the raging inferno in my chest. The hope that just wouldn’t extinguish.