Chapter 39
A PROMISE
Matteo
Belfast greets us like it’s holding its breath. Or maybe that’s just me. There are no sirens, no convoys, and none of Quinlan’s men looming in the shadows. When Cat and I emerge from our peaceful sanctuary, that momentary respite, all we find are wet streets and a wind that smells like old rain.
Leo keeps a quiet line in my ear as the car rolls off the ferry and we take the long way around the docks.
“Quinlan’s shuttered the Annesley warehouse,” he reports.
“There’s movement around the shipyard and the linen mill.
Tiernan himself hasn’t shown his face in twenty-four hours.
There are too many foreign scopes on roofs. ”
“Geminis?” I ask, watching the rearview mirror as we turn a corner. A white van hangs back, then peels off like it had another errand.
“They’re closing the ring,” Leo replies. “We’ve got eyes west and south. If Tiernan runs, he runs to ground, not away. The window for a clean strike comes at night between two to four a.m. when he swaps crews. Ale has it all clocked out. We’re striking tomorrow.”
“Alessandro is here?” I blurt, guilt twisting my insides.
“On his way. He’s thirsting for revenge, Matteo. You know he would never sit this one out.”
For me. Fuck. The last thing I wanted was my cousin in Belfast. I thought for sure with Rory pregnant, he’d hang back.
“Who else is coming?” I grit out.
“All of them.”
The spiral of guilt intensifies, a tornado ripping at my insides. Of course, they all came. Because they think I’m dead because of the Quinlans. They’ll raze the entire city in my memory. And what if one of them gets hurt in the massacre? What if one of my cousins dies for me?
I could never live with myself… knowing it was my fault.
“I’ll text you the timing. Just keep breathing until then.”
I hang up but I can’t sit still. I have to end this before it starts. If I can get to Quinlan first, there might still be time.
Cat exhales a soft breath, drawing my attention.
I hazard a glance at the woman who wrecked me last night in the best way.
Even now, memories of her body curled against mine, of the sounds she made as I coaxed out orgasm after orgasm, rush my mind.
They’ll live there forever, rent free. She rides beside me, hood up and face turned to the blur of orange on the horizon.
She’s quiet, her body coiled with tension.
Her hand stays on her chest like she’s holding a secret in place like if she lifts her palm it will escape and ruin us both.
I turn the car north and head outside the city. We don’t go anywhere with a name that would show up in anyone’s mouth. No safehouses, no Rossi or Quinlan ties. Instead, we find a random two-story motel off a quiet road, its sign buzzing between two letters so it reads HO_EL, which feels accurate.
We march into the office, the smell of disinfectant and a kind of despair that gets in your shoes clinging in the air. I pay in cash, and the clerk doesn’t even look up from his phone.
A few minutes later, we’re in Room 12. It’s small and surprisingly clean with a thin carpet, a bolted wardrobe, and a bedspread that has outlived at least three presidents. A thin band of light leaks through the curtains like a dare.
Cat drops the duffel by her feet, then moves to the window and peels back an inch of fabric.
Her reflection stares back in the glass, pale and hard.
I lock the door, run the chain, and check the bathroom window out of habit.
Then I fold down onto the bed and exhale.
The mattress complains when I do, and the sound feels too loud.
“Have you heard anything else from Leo?” she asks without looking at me.
“The Geminis will hit the linen mill when Tiernan rotates his men. He’s been bouncing between there and the docks like a rat with two holes. He’s probably heard they’re coming by now. He’s scared.”
She nods once, still staring out the window. “Are your cousins coming?”
My head dips, and I can’t help the sigh from spilling along with it. “I need to finish this before they get caught in a war.” My voice comes out lower than I plan. “But I don’t want you there.”
“Because I’m a liability?” Her mouth edges toward a smile that isn’t one.
“Because if anyone dares to touch you, I won’t think straight.” The truth lands sharp between us. “And because I don’t need you in my head when I pull the trigger. I need your voice reminding me to breathe when it’s all over.”
She lets the curtain fall, eyes boring into mine. For a second she looks eighteen again. Stubborn, sun bitten, and dangerous to every plan I ever made. “You’re not going in there by yourself.”
“No, I’m not. I’ll have Leo and a few men he’s lined up. It’ll be quick and easy. In and out.”
She scoffs. “You don’t know Tiernan Quinlan.”
“No, not personally. But I’ve put down plenty of assholes just like him.”
Cat clucks her tongue, shaking her head. “Assuming you succeed in this suicide mission, then what?”
“Then we leave.” I stand because sitting feels like surrender.
The words race ahead of better judgment.
“We don’t wait for morning. We don’t go back to Manhattan, and we definitely don’t ask permission from anyone.
There’s a train to nowhere and a cabin at the end of it with our names on it.
We make a stupid little life too boring for gunfire. ”
Her throat works. “Matteo…”
“I mean it.” I step closer, careful, like she’s a cliff I’m more than willing to fall from. “I’ll walk away from all of it, my family, my friends. Gemini can crown another son. I don’t care. I did the math a thousand times and it always comes back to you. Come with me.”
She almost says yes. I can feel it in the way her breath stutters, in the way her fingers flex against her chest like she’s unpinning something that’s stitched there. The word gets to the edge of her mouth and stops.
Her eyes shine, then shutter. “I can’t,” she whispers. “I already told you, I can’t.”
“Because of Donal? Or is it your Da?” My jaw tightens before I can stop it. “Because they put a leash on you for a man who would hang them from it?”
“Because of everything,” she rasps, a raw scrape.
“Because the world we made doesn’t exist anywhere but in ferries and sleepers and rooms like this.
Because if you walk away from your family to follow me into the dark, I’ll hate myself for the days you’ll miss with them that you won’t admit you miss.
” She takes a breath that hurts. “Because there are ghosts you still haven’t met. ”
My head snaps back at the last part. It should make me angry. It doesn’t. It makes my bones feel hollow and my hands want to do something stupid like shake or hold or both. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She looks at the carpet, at the bedspread, at anything that isn’t me. “Nothing that helps.”
Which is not the same as nothing.
“Cat,” I say, softer. “Whatever it is, tell me. I promise I won’t break. I won’t run.”
“That’s the problem.” A bitter laugh tumbles out. She shakes her head. “I just can’t. Not yet.”
I don’t push. I’m learning. Instead, I inch closer and touch her knuckles where they guard her chest. She doesn’t pull away. “When Tiernan is a body and all the Quinlans are nothing but a rumor, the offer stands. A stupid life with a stupid lemon tree. I’ll ask again.”
She closes her eyes. “Ask me somewhere with sun and the sea.”
“Deal.”
We build a temporary peace out of silence. I lay my guns out on the motel desk like a ruined still life. I have two mags, a spare slide, and a little black friend for close quarters. She watches, then opens her duffel and does the same. “I’m going with you, and you have no say in it, Matteo Rossi.”
I nod sharply because I know it’s a fight I won’t win. She’s going to hate me for this, but she’ll thank me in the end. We don’t touch, but the air between us feels heavy as we arrange our gear.
My phone finally buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket and scan the screen.
Leo: Rotation is at 02:20. We don’t have much time. Mill’s south entrance loses eyes for 90 seconds. Docks are a decoy. I’ll jam their local net. You get in, you get him, and you get out.
Me: Understood. Keep Cat off the board. Tie her up if you have to.
Then I hate myself for typing it. For needing it. For wanting her still breathing more than I want air.
She catches the look I don’t mean to wear. “What?”
“Nothing, just some updates,” I lie, and I’m sure she hears it but lets me get away with it. “We have to move ASAP. Gemini is going to stage two streets over from the mill and take what the night gives them.”
She nods, already tying her hair back, businesslike. The motion pulls the collar of her shirt just enough to shadow the ink I can’t stop thinking about. The ache returns like a tide under my ribs.
“You could still say yes,” I whisper, because if I don’t, I’ll drink the words and drown on them. “We could be on a train out of here by dawn.”
She meets my eyes and for half a second, I see it, our future. Then she blinks and it’s gone. “Let’s kill the man.” Her voice is as sharp as a blade. “Then we’ll talk about after.”
I nod because it’s the only answer that keeps us both upright. Then I pocket a knife, palm the small pistol, and slide a spare into the ankle holster. She does the same, mirroring my movements. She thinks she’s coming with me, but she’s not.
I press the room key into her palm. “If I don’t make it—”
“Don’t,” she snaps.
“—Leo knows where to take you,” I finish, and she looks like she might hit me, or kiss me, or both. I lean in, not quite touching, and say the only promise I can keep without breaking another. “I’m coming back.”
She stares up at me like she wants to say something but decides against it. “You better.”
I step in before the words can ruin us, one hand at her jaw, the other fisting in the back of her shirt, and I kiss her like a last meal.
It’s hard, hungry, and everything I shouldn’t be feeling right now.
She gasps and answers, fingers hooking my collar, pulling me closer until there’s no air that isn’t hers.
It’s the sea, whiskey and rain, a promise I can’t make with anything but my mouth.
I break only long enough to rest my forehead to hers.
“For luck,” I whisper.
Her eyes are glassy but defiant. “For later.”
I turn for the door because if I stay another minute, I’m going to say something I swore I wouldn’t until she does first. The knob turns warm in my palm. Leo is already there like a shadow that learned manners, broad shoulders filling the walkway, one hand braced against the jamb of Room 12.
“Now?” he asks, voice low.
I nod once. It’s the worst kind of courage. It’s quiet, domestic, and done for someone you love. “Stay with her and keep her safe.”
His dark brows furrow. “But capo, I thought I was with you tonight.”
“Change of plans. She’s your priority now.”
I move before I can change my mind. The door swings wider on the chain, and Leo bodies inside with the soft efficiency of a man who hates noise. Cat is already reaching under the hem of her shirt for the backup at her ribs, but Leo catches her wrist before her fingers close.
“Easy,” he murmurs. He’s not unkind, turning her hand and peeling the pistol like it’s a splinter. With the other he plucks the ankle piece without looking, then reaches behind her hip and fishes out the blade I’d warned him about.
“Matteo!” Her shout hits me in the back like a round. She jerks free, fury bright and wet. “Matteo, no!”
Leo eases the weapons onto the desk, palms up, stepping back but still between her and the hallway. “My orders are to keep you breathing, miss.”
“Don’t ‘miss’ me, you slab of granite.” She shoves at his chest, but he doesn’t move. She darts toward the door, toward me, eyes glassed and lethal. “Open it, Rossi.”
My fingers tighten around the knob I just let go of. I can see her in the two-inch gap, the chain a thin gold line across her throat. I can also see the linen mill in my head, the angle of a stairwell, the ninety seconds Leo just handed me. Two futures, both bloody.
“I’ll be back,” I repeat, hating the shape of the words.
“Like Sicily?” Her laugh cracks and breaks. “You lock me in here and go die a hero somewhere, is that your grand plan?”
Leo slides the chain into place with a quiet click. Cat slams her palm flat to the wood so hard the door rattles. “You don’t get to make this choice for me!”
“I’m making it for me,” I hiss, and it’s the truest thing I’ve ever admitted. “If you’re there, I won’t be able to focus.”
“Maybe I don’t want you focused,” she fires back, voice fraying. “Maybe I just want you alive.”
Silence floods the hall. I press my forehead to the painted wood and swallow down everything else.
On the other side, she breathes like a runner who hasn’t stopped because stopping means feeling. “You promised,” she whispers, the words tearing, “you promised you wouldn’t—”
“I promised I’d come back,” I manage. “Hold me to that.”
“You have to go, Matteo,” Leo barks.
I back away one step, then another.
“Matteo!” she yells, and the sound shakes something loose in me that I need tight. “Don’t you dare—”
But if I stay, I lose both the shot and my nerve. I turn and move, the door closing with a soft thud that feels like a verdict.
“Damn it, Matteo, I love you.” Her voice breaks, barely seeping through the thick timber. I’m not even certain I hear her right.
I don’t stop. Down the walkway, down the stairs, into a night that smells like rain and my reckoning. I tuck the weight of Cat’s voice in my pocket with the extra mag and walk away.