Chapter Thirty-Seven
Flynn
I pace the dark roadside like a caged wolf, boots grinding gravel. Declan leans against the SUV, thumbs flying over his screen. “Viviana’s losing her mind. Blames herself.”
“It’s on me. Only me.” The words come out gravelly and venom. Rage coils in my gut, hard and violent, but I leash it hard. Lose control now and she’s gone forever.
Kian’s head snaps up. “There.”
Headlights tear toward us. Kaden’s car fishtails to a stop in a cloud of dust. He’s out before the engine dies, blood seeping through the bandage on his side, face white with pain, but he walks like it doesn’t matter. His eyes mirror the pain I feel in my own. He shoves my phone into my hand.
I power it on, thumbprint, codes, and the app opens. Searching… searching…
My heart flatlines.
“No signal,” Declan mutters.
“Ours or hers?” I bark at Connor.
He snatches the phone, fingers flying. “Ours is dead. Hers… maybe just out of range.”
I’m already moving. “Get in.”
Doors slam. I floor it, tyres screaming, Kaden beside me holding the phone like it’s her heartbeat. The Callaghans fall in behind.
Five minutes to the main road feels like five years.
“Got it!” Kaden’s voice cracks the silence.
I yank the wheel, skid off-road, kill the engine. We crowd the screen. One tiny red dot pulses in the black heart of nowhere; it’s far.
“We’re taking the bikes,” I roar.
No one argues.
We hit Declan’s estate at triple digits, burst into the garage. Five matte-black beasts wait in a row. I drag on the spare leather jacket, zip it over the hoodie, snap the helmet down. The visor turns the world blood-red.
Viviana runs, eyes red, clutching Declan’s spare key. She presses it into my gloved hand.
“Kill him,” she whispers, tears cutting tracks through the dust on her cheeks. “Make him beg.”
I nod once.
Declan pulls her in, kisses her fiercely. “Love you, Firecracker.”
Engines roar awake, deep, guttural thunder that shakes bone. I twist the throttle, and the bike lunges forward like it’s starving.
We tear out of the gates in perfect formation, five shadows eating the night. I lead, knees inches from asphalt, wind howling past the visor. The red dot burns on the phone strapped to the tank.
One hour? Fuck that.
I’ll be there in thirty.
Hang on, trouble.
I’m coming, and hell is riding right behind me.
We ditched the bikes a while back; the roar would announce us like war drums. The forest swallows every sound except our breathing.
Declan whistles once, low. A single cottage glows ahead, warm light spilling from the windows, thin smoke curling from the chimney like it’s a fucking honeymoon.
We drop to our stomach, and crawl.
Kian reaches the first window, peers in, shakes his head.
I slide to the next. One look inside and the world narrows to a single red pulse in my skull.
Blood on the pine floorboards, not a pool, just streaks and smears, fresh and bright. Enough to tell me someone bled. Enough to tell me it could be hers.
A pebble taps my boot. Declan jerks his chin to the bedroom window.
I move.
I rise just high enough to see.
Autumn is on the bed, unconscious, stripped down to black lace panties and nothing else. A dark bloom of blood soaks the pillow under her head. Her beautiful hair is matted with it.
My vision tunnels. My hands shake so hard the glass rattles.
“He’s mine,” I rasp, voice barely human. “Get her out alive.”
Declan’s eyes meet mine. “I’ve got her.”
Kian and Connor ghost to the side. “Kitchen,” Kian mouths.
“What’s the plan now?” Connor whispers.
I stand.
I peel the jacket off, let it fall.
“Now I fuck this up.”
I stride to the front door and kick it clean off the hinges.
Wood explodes inward.
“Fucking hell, Brady!” Declan hisses behind me, already moving.
“Flynn!” Doyle’s voice.
He crashes into me like a freight train, shoulder driving into my ribs. We stagger. Then fire erupts along my right side, white-hot, wet. I look down. A combat knife is buried to the hilt just above my hip, blood already pouring down my jeans.
He grins up at me, teeth pink. “Surprise.”
I wrap my hand around the handle, rip it free. The pain is blinding, but rage is louder.
I roar and drive us both to the floor.
“You touched her?” My fist smashes into his face, once, twice. Cartilage collapses. Blood explodes across the wood in thick, arterial arcs.
He laughs through broken teeth. “I fucked her like she wanted.”
The words detonate inside my skull.
I grab his hair, rear his head back, and slam it down. Once. The crack is wet. Twice. Bone gives. Three times, grey-pink matter spatters out in a fan, chunks sliding across the floorboards like spilled oatmeal.
“You touched her.” Slam. His left eye bursts, jelly and blood oozing down his cheek.
“She—” He coughs a red mist, “—mine.”
I yank my collar down, show him the ink over my heart, her name in black script, fresh scar still raised.
“She was never yours.” I snarl, lifting his ruined head one last time. “She might not even be mine… but she’ll be with me forever while you rot.”
His remaining eye flickers, confused, dying.
I slam his skull down one final time. The back of his head caves in with a wet crunch. Brain matter squelches out in thick grey ropes, mixing with the growing lake of blood.
I lean in close, lips to what’s left of his ear.
“Don’t worry, Doyle,” I whisper, voice calm, cold, eternal. “I’ll find you in hell… and I will make your eternity so much worse.”
Then I let his corpse drop with a wet slap and turn around. I stride outside and stop at the door.
“We texted Kaden the second we rolled up,” Kian says, voice tight. “He’s coming with the medic.”
I nod once, eyes locked on Declan. He’s cradling Autumn against his chest, her limp body wrapped in a blood-spotted sheet, head lolling against his shoulder.
“Is she—” The words fracture in my throat. My hoodie and jeans are soaked through, warm and heavy, dripping a steady red trail across the floorboards.
“She’s alive,” Declan says, firm. “Breathing’s steady.” Then his gaze drops to my side, and his face goes stone. “Fuck, Flynn.”
The room tilts.
My knees hit the ground hard enough to rattle bone. The world tilts again, slower this time.
“Flynn!” Declan’s roar is distant.
Kian’s hands grab my shoulders. “He’s bleeding out, bad.”
“Hold her,” Declan snaps.
The sheet rustles. Then Declan’s palms slam over the knife wound, pressing so hard my spine bows. Blood seeps between his fingers like warm syrup.
“Stay with me, mate,” he growls. “Eyes open.”
Everything narrows to a pinprick. I’m floating, weightless, so fucking tired.
“Flynn?”
Her voice, soft, cracked, perfect, slices through the haze.
She’s there, on her knees beside me, sheet clutched to her chest, tears cutting clean tracks through the blood on her cheeks.
I lift a shaking hand, cup her face. My palm leaves a red print on her skin.
“Wife,” I rasp.
“You came,” she whispers, leaning into my touch like it’s the only real thing left in the world.
“Always, trouble.” My arm drops, feeling too heavy.
“I love you,” she breathes, forehead pressing to mine, warm breath ghosting my lips like silk over steel.
I open my mouth.
I love you, Autumn Brady.
The words don’t make it out.
The darkness rushes in, but her name is still on my tongue when it takes me.
The steady beep-beep-beep drills straight through my skull. I groan, cracking one eye open.
“Hey, sleeping beauty.”
Declan’s smug voice hits like a hammer. “Tell me I didn’t almost die just to wake up with your ugly mug first,” I rasp.
He grins, jerking his chin to the left. “Turn your head, Brady.”
I do, and everything else disappears.
Autumn.
She’s sitting in the chair beside the bed, wrapped in that soft cream sweater she loves, the one that makes her look like something I’m scared to touch in case I break it.
Brown waves messy, eyes red-rimmed, a small cut healing on her cheek, bruises blooming along her jaw like ugly fingerprints.
Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying non-stop.
My heart slams against the monitors. Doyle’s voice slithers back in: I fucked her like she wanted.
The machines screech.
Autumn shoots to her feet. “Nurse—”
Declan is already there, leaning over me, voice low and fierce in my ear.
“He never touched her, brother. Not like that.”
The beeping slows.
Autumn hovers, worry creasing her brow. “What did you say?”
Declan straightens, casual. “Just something he needed to hear. I’ll go find the doc.”
He slips out, door clicking shut behind him.
Silence.
She climbs onto the bed carefully, like I’m made of glass, and lays her head on my chest right over the bandage. The second her warmth seeps through the gown, she breaks.
Hard, wrenching sobs that shake her whole body and soak straight through to my skin.
I lift my good arm, slow, aching, and settle my hand in her hair.
“Hey, trouble,” I whisper, voice gravel and smoke. “Look at me.”
She shakes her head against my ribs, fingers clutching my gown like she’s scared I’ll vanish.
“Okay,” I breathe, stroking those soft waves, over and over. “Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”
She cries harder.
“I’m here,” I murmur into her hair. “I will always be here. Always.” And for the first time since I kicked that door down, I let myself believe we actually made it to the other side.
“I thought I lost you,” she whispers, lifting her tear-streaked face to mine.
I lean in, press my lips to her forehead. “I thought the same about you.”
The words crack something open inside my chest. A single tear slips free, hot against my skin. First one since I was a kid too small to fight back.
“Flynn…” Her voice breaks on my name.
She shifts closer, careful of the tubes and bandages. Her eyes stop at my chest tattoos.
“Flynn.” She whispers, and more tears fall down her cheeks. Her fingers brush over the Celtic tattoo, her name on my heart.
“You will always be with me.” I whisper. She looks up at me, and her mouth finds mine. Soft at first, trembling, tasting salt and hospital antiseptic, then deeper, desperate, like she’s trying to crawl inside me and never leave.
I kiss her back the same way, hand sliding into her hair, anchoring her to me.
“Tell me you’ll stay,” I breathe against her lips, raw, terrified it’s still a dream.
“I’m never leaving,” she vows, forehead pressed to mine. “Never.”
A shaky smile pulls at my mouth. “Mrs Brady.”
“Mister Brady,” she whispers back, eyes shining.
I drag her closer and kiss her harder, hungry, possessive, pouring every second I thought I’d lost her into it. She’s warm and alive and trembling in my arms, and the monitors can scream all they want.
She’s my lifeline. My world. My everything.
Forever, my Autumn.