“Two lives for one. You know that’s not how it works, Declan.”
“Let her go. Your son will be unharmed. We’ll all walk away from this a little wiser.”
His grin is macabre in the gloomy shadows. “Do you take me for a fucking idiot?”
I won’t answer that. It’s disrespectful in front of his son.
“This situation was your choosing. Time to own your mistakes, which is what I’m trying to do.”
I’ve seen the faint glimmer of movement in the patch of gray from overhead. My men are in place. I don’t know if Amelia can hear me, but I’m going to bare my heart for her, and then I’m going to kill the bastard who thought he could use her as collateral damage.
Not on my fucking watch, asshole.
“I am in love with my wife. I allowed my ego and pride to cloud my judgement for a while, but Amelia and the baby she iscarrying are more important to me than my own life. You see, the difference between you and me, Michael, is that I will put my life on the line for the people I care about.”
His gaze flickers again to his son. I don’t need to look around to know that Dermott is holding a gun to the teenager’s head. I’ll give the lad credit for not making a sound since we picked him up outside college. He has more integrity and courage than his father ever will; he would make a great mafia boss. Or artist.
Monster Morran cricks his neck from side to side. “You don’t have the fucking balls, Declan. But I do.”
I hear the click of the trigger as his finger applies pressure to the gun at Amelia’s temple. My heart leaps into my mouth. It’s all about timing, and if we’re a fraction of a second out of synch…
It all plays out in slow motion inside my head.
The click behind me as Dermott shoots Morran’s son using a silencer. The muffled thud as the lad collapses onto the floor. The reaction in Morran’s eyes—shock, disbelief, pure fucking rage. The split second between him registering what happened and firing a bullet into my beautiful Amelia.
But a split second is all it takes to place a bullet into his shoulder. I don’t want to kill him. Not yet. At the same time as the bullet penetrates his flesh and muscle and loosens his hold on the weapon, the skylight opens, and the room fills with my team of armed men.
I fire a second bullet into his left shoulder.
He rummages around for the gun that he dropped, but I pump another bullet into his arm, and another. Closer. Close enoughto smell the fear and regret on his breath. He took a chance and played it wrong. But there are no second chances in this game.
I scoop Amelia into my arms as two of my men flank Michael Monster Morran. His right arm is a mess of bloody flesh and sinew. His eyes are fixed on his son, lying motionless on the floor.
“You murdered my son, you bastard,” he mutters. “You’ll live to fucking regret crossing me.”
“Mistake number one, Morran. Measuring me by your own low standards.”
I half-turn and give Dermott the signal.
The lad stands up slowly, unharmed, and faces his father.
Monster Morran’s mouth forms words that remain silent. I see the moment the adrenaline crashes and the pain hits behind his eyes.
“The bullet was a blank.” I lock eyes with Amelia’s abductor. “Unlike you, I’m not in the habit of murdering innocent people.”
“Cillian…” he addresses his son, drawing raggedy breaths. “I would never have hurt her.”
“I don’t believe you, Pa.” Cillian shakes his head. “When I was a kid, I wondered why they called you Monster. I guess now I have my answer.”
The lad walks to the door, and my men don’t stop him.
“Cillian.” Morran’s voice cracks. “Don’t walk away from me, son. I’ll cut you out of your inheritance, don’t think I won’t.”
Cillian turns around to face his father, one hand already on the door handle. “Go right ahead, Pa. If you’d ever spent any time with me, you’d know that I never wanted any part of it anyway.”
He closes the door gently behind him as he leaves.
But the man on the floor didn’t get his reputation by conceding a fight either. His bloody hand closes around the weapon on the floor, aiming to finish what he started.
