Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I kick open the door. As I rush out, the shooting stops, and the car peels off as it speeds away. I level my gun to take a few shots but Seamus shoves it down and shakes his head.
“Check the people,” he says.
I curse but he’s right. The shooting’s done and they got away, and now it’s time to figure out if anyone got hurt. I shove the gun into my waistband and begin checking on the people lying in the grass, some of them curled up with their heads covered, a few of them hiding in the bushes. An old woman’s quietly crying to herself, but she’s not hurt.
Nobody’s hurt, as far as I can tell.
“Bro,” Seamus says from over in the driveway. “Check this out.”
It’s my truck. There must be a couple dozen bullet holes riddling the back. The windows are blasted out and the tires are ruined. “They shot it up,” I say, staring at the wreck. “Everyone else is fine.”
Seamus sucks in a slow breath and blows it out. He gives me a meaningful look. “This was a warning.”
I walk slowly around my truck.
This could’ve been bad. All those people were lined up in the yard like sitting ducks and they could’ve been slaughtered today. Whoever was in that car had orders not to hurt anyone, or else I’d have a lot of blood in my grass and bodies to deal with.
Instead, there are bullet fragments lodged in my truck.
And the war’s finally coming to my home.
Chapter 26
Elena
Ihear about the shooting from Simon that afternoon. I want to rush over to Brody’s office but he tells me to stay home since he’s still at his mother’s place taking care of everyone and cleaning up the mess. I hate waiting around and end up going over anyway.
“I’m so happy everyone’s okay,” I say to him when I jump out of the car and rush over. I throw my arms around him and hug him tight, burying my face in his neck. “God, it scared the shit out of me when Simon told me there was a shooting.”
“We got lucky.” Brody’s tone is flat and lifeless. “Santoro didn’t want anyone dead. Just my truck.”
“Your poor truck.” I pull back and stare into his face. “You’re sure nobody’s hurt?”
“Just some scared people and a few minor bruises from diving to the ground. I’ve been trying to make sure everyone’s getting what they need since it happened.” His eyes move to the house and I can tell he wants to get back inside.
“Come on then. I’ll do what I can.”
He hesitates then leans forward and kisses my cheek. “Would you sit with my mom?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Of course. That’s all you need?”
“She’s taking it hard. Hell, she’s taking everything hard right now.”
“Then I’ll talk to her and see if I can take her mind off things.”
He nods and there’s a flicker of emotion, just the barest hint of sadness, but he quickly buries it and leads me inside.
There are a few people in the living room that I don’t know. Brody introduces me to them and I realize they must be the petitioners that had been in the yard when the shooting happened. Brody takes an older man back into the office with him and closes up, leaving the others to wait around, and I head into the kitchen where his mother’s sitting at the table with coffee and the newspaper. She’s staring at the wall, the mug held to her lips.
“Hello, Orla,” I say and sit across from her. “Busy day already, I hear.”
She blinks at me and a little smile breaks across the smooth surface of her otherwise blank face. “Elena, I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“I had to check on everyone when I heard what happened.”
“Oh, dear, that’s sweet of you, but I’m fine. Molly’s going to be here soon.”
“Then I’ll stick around for a while and see what I can do to help out.”
Orla gets up and starts to bustle around the kitchen, talking about some of the people who had been outside, like old Mrs. Grady, a widow that has been a member of the organization for many years. “They own a very good restaurant a few blocks over, a lovely place. She was here to ask Brody for help keeping her rent from rising too much. She’s afraid she’ll lose the location.”
“I’m sure he can help with that.” When she starts doing the dishes, I take over and insist she sit down. “How are you doing though? Are you holding up okay?”
“The shooting has me rattled,” she admits with a little uncomfortable laugh. “In all my years, this has never happened before. That’s a small miracle, right? But Brody’s dad always tried to stay out of conflicts. He was a good man.” She stares away from me, back toward the windows, and I get another glimpse of the deep sadness inside of her.