Chapter 23
T he sight of shattered glass and the smell of gas greet me, and before I even set foot out of the car, I know I’m too late.
Way to fucking late.
Within seconds of walking into the cabin, it’s painfully obvious that I’m a fool for even trying to kid myself that I imagined that phone call. Shattered glass, upturned furniture and drops of blood greet me, and I have to fight the urge to vomit as my mind races with visions of what happened here.
I slam my fist into the wall. What does it matter when Cora has been taken? What does anything matter when my whole world has been stolen from me in the blink of an eye?
Calling Jonathan to inform him that his daughter was taken while under my care is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. After icily demanding I review the security footage for any useful information and then haul it home immediately, he hangs up on me without even the ‘fuck you’ that I rightfully deserve. Looking through the footage proves useless—the licence plate is missing, and the guys were clad in black, balaclavas included. Even when they broke into the house, there was nothing distinguishing about them or the way they attacked Cora.
Watching them pin her down and knock her out has red creeping into my vision, and I punch the computer screen, wishing I could reach through it and punch those fuckers who dared lay a hand on my Cora.
* * *
Before hitting the road, I made sure the footage was uploaded onto the cloud storage in case we needed it later before finishing what they started and setting the place on fire. Watching it burn down felt like the final nail in the coffin of the safe, happy bubble we’d been in for the past few months.
After years of waiting for her, I got two wonderful months before she was stolen from me and I’ll be damned if I don’t get her back.
If I have to burn down the city, I will.
If it costs me my place in the Four Points, so be it.
Nothing else matters except getting her back.
The drive back is torturous is fuck. I’m still fighting the urge to rage and break shit. I want a fight. I want to dole out violence on those who dared touch what wasn’t theirs. But I want Cora more, so I school my features and prepare for Jonathan’s wrath as I approach the living room where he paces, barking out orders.
Dad is leaning against one of the bookcases with Ciaran and Brennan O’Malley at his side. Despite being twins the two brothers couldn’t be any more different if they tried, both in personality and appearance. Ciaran is very much a typical fiery redhead with the temper and fists that fly before thinking to match whereas Brennan is more on the geeky side, with the glasses and IT skills to match.
However what they do have in common is their utter devotion to the cause and the way they can dismember a body so skilfully they earned themselves the nickname of ‘The Butcher Brothers’ long before Ciaran met his now ex-wife, Una, and they had Matt. Nowadays, Ciaran is in charge of The Pit while Brennan created and maintains our secure IT network and they both have their own crews to do their bidding at any given moment. Abigail’s Dad, Jack Kelly and Declan ‘Fitz’ Fitzgerald round out the group as the wall of muscle that every good organisation needs. They started off working the streets for the Four Points before Jonathan’s Dad saw potential and threw them into the ring fights to win easy money and when Jonathan took over he decided that Jack and Declan would be perfect to take over training the new recruits and keeping everyone in line.
This frees up Jonathan and my Dad to keep things running smoothly with the many arms and drugs deals never mind the whole territory side of things that can get real messy real quick. “Seamus, I want you and Ciaran so far up Angus’s ass you know when he shits. I want to know every little detail about his every move, you hear me? Jack, and Brennan, continue tracking down anyone who’s been seen working with Angus. I want names. Declan, make sure every foot soldier has his eyes open and ear to the ground for anything useful, got it?” The men head out with nods, leaving me alone.
“Owen, you’re with me.”
Dad hovers for a second to squeeze my shoulder before leaving as well.
I stand there waiting for Jonathan to make the first move, braced for the punch that’s surely to come, only to flinch in surprise when he grips my shoulder and pulls me into a hug.
What the fuck.
It only lasts for a second before he pulls back, saying, “I’m sure you’re blaming yourself enough for both of us, and as much as I’m furious, realistically, there wasn’t anything you could do, Owen.”
“We don’t even know who has her.” I don’t give a fuck if I appear weak as my voice cracks. I also don’t care if he starts suspecting that there’s more going on between us .
My whole life has just exploded in front of me and the thought of what they could be doing to her is tearing me up inside.
There’s a code of honour.
Yet Angus always crosses that line because he’s an unhinged bastard who is going to die the second I get my hands on him.
I will save her.
No matter the cost.
* * *
Slamming the phone down after yet another pointless call with my dad, I grab the bottle of whiskey and down half of it. If it were my mother, he’d understand the hell I’m walking through. Every lead we chase ends up being a dead end and we’re no closer to getting her back than we were a week ago. Rage and despair simmer in my veins. But I refuse to give up on my baby girl. Not now. Not ever.
I refuse to give up on finding her. Though, I’m starting to wonder if she can survive whatever hell they’ll put her through.
If she can just hold on for me, I’ll spend the rest of eternity making this up to her.
But as time ticks by that’s feeling a greater feat by the day.
But that won’t stop me from trying to find her, no matter the cost.