Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Maybe that’s true,” Emin concedes, head tilted. “But you killed two of my best men and fucked up my plans. Now there won’t be peace, no matter what, and I’m in a very vengeful mood.”
“Peace was never going to happen, you psychopath.”
“With Daley, it was possible. Put a few babies in her, treat her relatively well, it could’ve happened. Her old man is flexible like that, but that plan’s finished and so are you.”
I clench my jaw. My gun’s aimed at the ground, and if I move, he’ll kill me. I’m slow right now, sluggish from the wounds and blood loss. If I were at my best, I don’t know if I could win this fight. Like this, I have no chance in hell.
Stay alive, Daley, please.
“You don’t need to do this,” I say, stalling for time, but there’s none left.
“There are at least five dead Irishmen out front. Probably more are wounded. What’s one more matter?”
I dive to the side and whip my gun up. I fire a shot a fraction of a second too late, and I feel pain rip into my chest. I gasp and cough, and I taste blood on my tongue. Emin staggers sideways, a dark stain blooming on his shoulder. I fire again and again, and he throws himself out of the way.
I groan, blood seeping through the hole in my chest. My heart’s beating and I’m not instantly dead, which is good. But I cough again, and I taste more blood, which is bad, very bad. It bubbles on my lip, which means my lung’s been hit. I crawl to the door, but my strength is rapidly leaving, and I don’t know if I can make it through.
I hurt so much. God, so much. But I got Daley out. I saved her, and that’s all I wanted. If she walks away from this and manages to have a life without me, I can die a happy man. Even if I never got the truth about Megan, none of that matters. Not without Daley.
“Rian.” Her voice. So sweet and perfect. I feel her grab my arms and drag me through the glass. More cuts pierce my body. More pain. Doesn’t matter. My thoughts are getting loopy. “Oh God, you’re shot.”
“Let me see him.” Another voice. Nolan?
“We have to get him to a hospital.”
“I’ll carry him.”
Daley’s face appears above me, framed by the moon. She’s so perfect. My beautiful Daley.
“Don’t you fucking die,” she whispers.
Someone hefts me up over their shoulder, and I groan as a wave of agony drops a black curtain.
Chapter 30
Daley
The hospital waiting room is an antiseptic beige. The sort of limbo that’s meant to be calming but is more like a corporatized hellscape. The chairs are dark blue and the TV plays an ancient Judge Judy rerun. A vending machine hums an electric dirge, and I sit with my knees pulled against my chest, not feeling anything, barely daring to breathe.
The wedding dress is long gone. I took it off and told Callum to burn it. Now I’m in sweats, my hair a wreck, my face a mess with bruises and tears. My brothers sit nearby, neither of them speaking, both of them on their phones. Likely texting with the other captains and lieutenants and assessing the damage of the battle.
It’s past three in the morning, and they have other men to visit tonight, families of the dead to speak with, more pain and suffering ahead.
I don’t know if I’m worth it.
Neither of them says that out loud, but they don’t need to. I saw the carnage when we rushed Rian to a waiting truck. Bodies strewn in the parking lot, blood and bullet casings scattered all over. Sirens blared in the distance as the living scattered, dragging off the wounded, screams of pain echoing all over.
My father’s going to have to call a hundred favors in just to survive this misery.
At least five are dead. A few more might not make it. All to save me from the Turks and a life worse than death. An existence as an unwilling bride and a breeder.
I still don’t know if I’m worth it.
The door opens. I look over, expecting a doctor, but instead Fergal Halloran steps into the room. He seems gaunt and ghostly and exhausted. Like a pale figment of himself. My brothers go to him and speak quietly, giving their reports, and Dad nods along. When they finish, he dismisses them both. “Go talk to the rest of the clan. Tell the families what happened and make them understand it was for the greater good. We’ll handle funeral expenses for the dead and medical expenses for the injured. We’ll take care of the families left behind. Now go and do what you can.”
Callum nods grimly and leaves.
“What about Daley? I don’t want to leave her alone right now.” Nolan glances back at me.