Chapter 44 Raven
FORTY-FOUR
RAVEN
The journey had been fairly uneventful, aside from the Callahan twins cracking off-color jokes and Aiden hovering around me like an overcaffeinated bodyguard, checking my holster and the knife at least a dozen times.
His protectiveness went overboard, but I appreciated it. It showed he cared.
However, everything shifted the moment we stepped off the boat and onto solid ground, where three men awaited us.
Men who looked as though they’d just walked straight out of a warzone, and the look in their eyes confirmed that they’d seen battle and more.
They were men who’d seen too much and carried those stories behind their gazes that nobody dared to ask about.
But that didn’t take away from how striking they were—handsome in a dangerous, rugged way with an air of mystery that made it impossible to look away.
“Hello, River,” Aiden greeted him, extending his hand, and the two men shook hands. Then he turned to the other two men. “Astor, Darius. This is my wife, Raven.”
“Callahan. Mrs. Callahan,” the three acknowledged, the title making me feel old and… well, married. Then they looked at the twins.
“You two won’t be playing cowboys, I hope,” Darius stated, making it seem as if he’d seen them do some dumb shit in the past.
Kyran grinned. “We don’t play, Darius. You should have learned that by now.”
“After all, we leveled the enemy last time,” Tyran said.
River rolled his eyes and Astor grumbled, “And a village.”
“Let’s focus on this mission,” Aiden cut in, then went over the plan of action one more time. The goal was to slip in and out without notice, but we were prepared for the worst. “Any questions?” Everyone shook their heads. “Good, then let’s go.”
The mood sobered. The twins fell silent, expressions sharpening as they checked their weapons. Aiden moved in front of me without a word, joining his brothers to form a protective barrier while River, Astor, and Darius hung behind me.
Ahead of the Callahan brothers, our reluctant guide—the prisoner—trudged forward into the dark.
The cave smelled of sea and decay. Each step echoed off the walls, swallowed up by the stalactites I could just barely make out. Water dripped steadily somewhere in the distance, creating a rhythm to match my thundering heart.
We walked for what felt like hours, deeper and deeper, the faint glow of our headlamps casting long, twisted shadows along the jagged stone. The path narrowed, the rock walls dropping low enough in places that we had to crouch. Aiden stayed close, sheltering me with his broad shoulders.
Every so often, the prisoner’s steps would slow and one of the twins would give him a not-so-gentle shove to keep moving.
Then, without warning, he completely stopped.
“Keep moving,” one of the twins growled.
But the man didn’t budge. He just turned, slow and deliberate, and then a grin spread across his face.
“What—” I whispered, but my words were cut off when a bang sounded.
Aiden immediately glued himself to me, shoving me backward. He steadied his gun and fired off a round of shots. His brothers did the same. Gunfire, shouting, and the clang of steel on stone erupted all around me while I squinted, unable to decipher who was who in the commotion.
My heart thundered painfully, fear gripping my chest—for the unknown as much as the life growing inside me.
My head whipped left and right when I remembered the gun.
I wondered if now was the right time to pull it out and start shooting.
But Aiden and the twins were close by, and I was terrified that I might accidentally wound them—or worse.
But then I heard it.
“Baby, don’t do anything.”
It was my mother’s whimper, bouncing against the walls of the cave.
I felt the blow to the back of my skull and my world tilted, realizing we’d walked right into a trap.
I woke to the stench of damp rot, blood, and mildew. I would’ve gagged if it weren’t for the invisible grip around my throat, as if steel fingers were clamped there, holding everything down.
Pain pulsed all through my head and down my neck, filling my body with a cold terror.
I cracked my eyes open only to be greeted with utter darkness. My face was wet and sticky. I lifted a trembling hand, fingertips brushing across the back of my head and finding the source: a tender, swollen spot. The moment I touched it, white-hot pain flared, and I hissed through my teeth.
“Ah, we finally meet, Raven Lyons.”
I lurched upright, the mattress screaming underneath me, its springs whining. The sting of cold air hit every slick inch of skin.
Finding the source of the voice, a man sitting in the chair, I reached for my holster and found it empty.
Panic rose in my throat.
“Wh-what do you w-want?” I stuttered. “Who are you?”
A click sounded somewhere above, and then a white light pierced my eyelids. I squeezed them shut until the glare softened, every blink a small assault.
“I, my dear”—he puffed on his cigar, the scent making my stomach churn—“am your father. Duncan Lyons.”
The name felt like a punch to my gut.
He turned his head and his gaze skimmed past me. I followed it and found a woman on the other side of the room, folded into herself, her round belly protruding out from her hips.
My chest compressed as if someone had driven an iron bar through my ribs.
“Mom,” I cried out.
She didn’t answer, her quivering lips ashen.
I hurled myself off the bed and collapsed into her, my knees hitting the floor. Her body was warm and fragile, and her skin smelled like tobacco.
“Mom, it’s me,” I rasped, tears streaming down my face.
I cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at me, but her stare was flat and empty, like a mirror without a reflection.
“What have you done to her, you bastard?” I snapped, glaring at him over my shoulder.
Duncan chuckled, but there was no lightness to it. “She told me you were dead. She stole you from me.” He shrugged and wet his lips. “So, she owed me a new child.”
He drew on his cigar, the smoke unfurling and drifting through the cold room.
“First, she had to stop drinking like a lush,” he added.
Tears carved hot tracks down my face, each one tasting of salt and something bitter and metallic. It was my grief, and with it came the slow, sickening realization of everything she’d endured these last five years.
My chest went hollow, each jagged inhale coming harder than the last.
“You hurt my mother,” I hissed, the words scraping out of me on a throat gone raw.
He laughed. “Don’t be stupid, Raven. I fucked her.”
She spent all these years enduring his cruelty, and I didn’t save her. Goddammit, the guilt gnawed at my chest, threatening to collapse inward.
But I wouldn’t fail her now. I would save her and take care of the others, and I’d end this animal for laying a hand on her.
My eyes went to the twisted fuck who dared call himself my father.
Duncan lazed in the chair, smoking his cigar. A gun sat on his lap, and there was nothing more I wanted than to take it and put a bullet in his mouth.
But first I’d make him pay for hurting my mom. The need to see him suffer rose in my throat like bile. Even with the self-revulsion coiling through me, the urge felt right, and I knew what I had to do.
The bloodthirsty thought struck me like a physical blow, but it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, it felt inevitable.
“You know, I’ll give her her freedom if you stay,” he drawled, completely oblivious to my thoughts.
My lips curled in distaste, but I didn’t answer. My silence seemed to agitate him, his silver hair mussing as he combed an impatient hand through it. He finally bellowed, “Your mother kept you from me!”
“No, my mother saved me from you.” I didn’t care if it was the last thing I ever did on this earth, I would kill him. “Where is my husband?”
“You are my daughter!” he roared. The ire seeped out of him in gallons. “She’s my wife. You two are supposed to obey.”
I flinched at his outburst, but I refused to cower.
“Where are my husband and brothers-in-law?” He laughed maniacally, refusing to answer. “You are going to die if you hurt them,” I spat, hatred burning like acid in the pit of my stomach.
He would die anyhow, but he didn’t need to know that yet.
“At least you inherited my strength,” he praised as if proud. Delusional. The man belonged in a psych ward. “I’d hate to see you be a wimp like your mother.”
He reached for his phone and called someone.
“Bring him in,” he said, his voice tinged with a Scottish lilt.
Suspicion slithered up my spine. I knew exactly who “him” meant. A moment later, the door opened, and Aiden was led in, his hands tied behind his back, with three men following closely behind with weapons aimed at him.
He looked disheveled, but he strode in with confidence. Like he wasn’t the prisoner here. His eyes traveled to my mom’s body, and for the briefest fraction of a second, sorrow flashed in them, but he quickly masked it.
“Mo cuishle, are you well?” he greeted me, his jaw clenched. His eyes roamed over me as if to ensure I was okay before our eyes met.
“Yes,” I rasped. “You?”
He nodded.
“Ah, my son-in-law.” Duncan’s smile was frosty. “It turns out that I was against you for the past five years for naught. My apologies.”
“Funny that you’d be remorseful while keeping me bound,” Aiden retorted dryly. “I’m afraid your apology isn’t accepted.”
“In that case—” Duncan raised his gun.
“No!” I shouted and bolted, finding myself standing between the man I hated and the man I loved.
“Ah, dumb like your mother after all,” Duncan grumbled. “No matter, I’ll kill your husband and you’ll marry one of my associates until your brother grows old enough to replace you as my heir.”
My stomach roiled. This man was sick. Revolting! There was no other word for it. A weaselly, evil bastard. But then his words sank in.
“A brother,” I rasped.
Duncan chuckled. “The only thing your mother did right. She’s finally giving me a boy. We had to end the last five pregnancies. All worthless girls.”
I watched his eyes, so full of malevolence and cruelty.
“You are insane,” I whispered in horror.
I couldn’t let this lunatic destroy another person I loved. As long as Duncan lived, my mother, Aiden, and my unborn baby would be in danger.
The bitterness and anger swelled inside me and eroded my soul, demanding I make him pay. My eyes scanned over Duncan and his chair, noting his gun was back on his lap.
“Kill that Irishman,” he barked at his men.
Acting on instinct, I reached out and swiped the gun from his lap, then pointed it at Duncan’s head.
“Don’t you fucking dare move,” I hissed, pointing the gun at him. “Or I’ll blow his brains out.”
He lifted his hand, a silent command intended for his men.
“Have you ever killed a person, Raven?” he drawled in an arrogant tone, but he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.
I fired, hitting Duncan’s thigh by sheer accident, and I sent a silent prayer of gratitude.
“You fucking bitch,” he snarled.
I smiled coolly. “Oops, my bad, I missed your dick.”
I tilted my chin toward Aiden, my heart racing. “Tell your men to untie my husband, or the next bullet will be in your groin. And the one after that, in your skull.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing, daughter.”
“It’s not that hard, Duncan. All I have to do is aim and shoot, and guess what? You’re in the line of fire.”
Duncan threw his head back and laughed. “You’re my daughter, alright.”
I tightened my grip on the trigger.
“Untie my husband and I’ll let you live,” I gritted, lying through my teeth. “Last warning.”