Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“It’s ruined,” she says, sounding numb and far away.
I step close and brush her hair aside. I find the zip and tug it once, sliding it down but not opening it. “Did you like it?”
“No… not really. I think my mom picked it out.”
“You look beautiful.”
“Even with blood on me?”
“I actually prefer you this way.”
She doesn’t think I’m funny. She shrugs me off and pushes me back. “I’ll do that.”
I get the shower started and toss a towel over the door. I don’t know what products she needs, what clothes she’ll wear, anything like that. My plans for the night went down the fucking toilet when four masked men appeared and started shooting.
Fucking Ethan…
He was a good man. We’d worked together a few times and played poker in some games against each other. He smoked too much, laughed too loud, but was decent to the core. He would die for the Whelans.
He died protecting my wife.
If Ethan hadn’t been standing right there, armed and prepared, on alert because I was attempting to sneak out, that attack might’ve worked.
They got close… so fucking close… inches away.
“Liam?” I look up sharply. I’m breathing hard, my fingers gripping the handle of the shower door. Regan’s frowning at me. “Privacy?”
“Right.” I peel myself away, trying to keep control, but it’s slipping. What the hell is the matter with me? I’ve been shot at a dozen times in my life. I’ve been stabbed, burned, kicked in the teeth, and nearly strangled with my own belt twice. But this is the first time I’ve reacted like this.
Anger courses through me and I don’t know what to do with it.
“Liam.” Her tone softens. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Take a shower. I’ll toss in clothes.”
“Seriously, are you—“
I walk out of there and shut the door behind me.
What can I tell her?
I’m not fine at all.
I nearly watched a bunch of men murder my wife at our own damn wedding, all because I was too soft to stick around like I was supposed to.
If I hadn’t tried to ditch out early for her, we never would’ve been in a vulnerable position like that.
Thank God Ethan stopped us.
Otherwise…
I can’t even think about what would’ve happened if we had been caught on our way to my car.
I have to pause to steady my hands. They’re shaking too much to undo the buttons of my shirt. Ethan’s blood still stains my suit. I strip it off, dumping it in the corner. I’ll burn that shit later. I drag on fresh clothes, tuck a gun into a holster in my waistband, and stalk out into my apartment.
“Rough night, huh?”
I snarl and draw my gun in one fluid motion. Finn watches placidly. He’s sitting at my kitchen table, a bottle of whisky open at his elbow, two glasses in front of him. He lifts one in a salute.
“Ring the bell next time,” I say and shove the gun away.
“I never worry when it comes to you. Sit down. How’s Regan?”
“Fine. In shock.” I accept the liquor but can’t bring myself to take a chair. Instead, I pace, my energy boiling over. “Did you question the survivor yet?”
Of the four attackers, one was still screaming when the Whelan guards swarmed and took them down. They bundled him into a van and tore off, probably to some black site safe house with a drain in the basement floor and a whole interesting complement of saws and serrated knives.
“We’re working on it.”
“I want a shot at him. I want it right now.” I grip my glass tightly, knuckles going white. “They tried to kill my wife.”
“Not tonight.”
“Finn, they came at me, at my own fucking wedding—“
“Which is why you’re not getting anywhere near the prisoner.”
I glare at him, steadying myself. I’ve never hated Finn before and doubt I ever will—he’s been through more hell than I can even begin to imagine—but fuck, I’m furious with him right now.
“My fucking wedding. Regan’s wedding. You know who it was, don’t you?”
“We have a guess.”
“Let me make it clear then: Max Baranov sent them.”
“That’s one possibility.”
“Possibility? The Baranovs are making their fucking move, Finn. They wanted to shove a wedge between you and the Corrigans. Kill the girl, break the alliance. Imagine how her dad would’ve reacted? You couldn’t even protect his daughter at her own wedding? If they had hurt her—“
“But they didn’t,” Finn says softly, smiling sadly. “You’re angry. I get it. But you can’t storm off and do something stupid. Not tonight.”
“Why the fuck not?!” I slam my drink back and smash the glass down onto the table. The bottle wobbles. “The Baranovs have been a god damn problem for years, always nipping at our heels like hungry little puppies, and now they’re making a serious move. You know what they have, don’t you? Regan showed me what her ex took.”