***
Aiden’s heart stopped when he heard the sound of gunshots.Too close.He ran down the porch steps, sprinting in thedirection Charlie had taken just moments before. He wanted to chalk it up to a car backfiring, but here in the upscale Beacon Hill neighborhood, where he’d lived his entire life, he could count on one hand how many times he’d heard that sound and still have fingers left over. It was too much of a coincidence.
He picked up speed. There weren’t many people out this late, but a small group had gathered halfway down the block.No. Not Charlie.To have narrowly avoided this exact thing mere days before and then find her bleeding—dead?—on the street…If he lost her, it had damn well better be because she walked away on her own strength.
Not because she was dead.
He slid between two men who were shifting nervously, like they knew they should be doing something but had no idea what. Aiden nearly tripped over his own feet as he went to his knees. “No.”
Liam had a hand pressed to his chest, but even in the low light, it was easy to see he was covered in blood. “Mae took her.”
“Save your strength.” Aiden stripped off his own shirt and adjusted Liam’s hand so he could press the fabric to the wound. Aiden pointed at one of the nervous men. “Call 911. Now. Tell them we have a gunshot wound and that he’s lost a lot of blood.” He leaned closer to Liam and lowered his voice. “I’m not losing you, damn it, so if you see a light or some shit, you stay the fuck away.”
“Yes, sir.”
He watched for coughing up blood, his memory of the night when Devlin died trying to superimpose itself over this one. One of the Halloran bullets had pierced his little brother’s lung, and Devlin had drowned in his own blood.He tried to judge where Liam had been hit—and what vital organs there were in that part of his chest—but he couldn’t be sure. Liam’s breathing was labored but not wet-sounding, which had to be a good thing. If Aiden could keep him from bleeding out, they might have a chance.
Sirens cut through the night, and Liam grabbed Aiden’s wrist with a surprisingly strong grip. “Mae took her. Dark car. Didn’t get plates.”
“You were a little busy being shot.” He’d deal with the ramifications of Charlie being in Mae’s tender care as soon as the paramedics loaded Liam into an ambulance. He couldn’t leave one of his oldest friends here on the street like a piece of trash. He just couldn’t.
An ambulance screeched to a halt next to the curb and dispatched two tired-looking paramedics, a man and a woman. They knelt on either side of Liam and looked at Aiden. “Sir, you need to step back. We can take it from here.”
He didn’t want to. Some part of him believed that if he let go of his shirt—now soaked with Liam’s blood—that it would be the end.
“Sir.” The female paramedic gently touched his shoulder. “Please. Every second counts.”
Thatgot him moving. He nodded and forced himself to move back a few feet. He watched the paramedics with an eagle eye, but they were above reproach. They took Liam’s vitals, muttering to each other in a language that might as well have been Greek for all he understood it.
Within five minutes, they had Liam on a stretcher and loaded into the back of the ambulance. The woman paused long enough to say, “We can’t say for sure yet, but barring complications, he should make a full recovery.” She hesitated. “Are you going to ride in the ambulance with him?”
“My brother will meet him at thehospital.” He’d send Cillian to wait with Liam.
He had to figure out where the fuck Mae took Charlie. Aiden turned and backtracked to the house, shoving through the back door loud enough to send it banging against the wall. Mark, stationed in the kitchen, started to draw his gun, then seemed to register that it was Aiden and not an enemy. His gaze went to the blood on Aiden’s hands and the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Trouble.”
“Trouble.” He started to rub a hand over his face but stopped when he realized he’d just be making a bigger mess. Aiden strode to the kitchen sink and started scrubbing at his hands. “Charlie was taken, and Liam was shot trying to stop it. He’ll be okay, but he’s on his way to the hospital.”
“Who did it? Romanov?”
“The Eldridges.” He never thought he’d long for the days when Romanov was their only enemy—or, hell, when the Hallorans were—but he was getting there fast. Certain rules applied to their world. They weren’t always upheld, but sacrificing innocents or near-innocents was almost always avoided. Even Romanov balked at killing women and children. Mae’s problem was withthem, so he or Dmitri should be her target—not Charlie. That was how every other player in this game would operate.
Not the Eldridges.
He’d been a damn fool not to realize that, and he’d put two of his sisters and Charlie in danger as a result. He never should have let Charlie walk away tonight, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind that she’d be in danger in the middle of O’Malley territory, not two blocks from his home with a protection detail on her heels.
Fool.
“What do you need?”
He took one breath and then another, but the buzzing of his thoughts didn’t abate. When all he could see was Liam on the ground, bleeding out, it had been easier to ignore the screaming in the back of his mind that Charlie was in the hands of a monster. Now, he didn’t have the distraction.
He was the leader of this family now, and that meant he had resources. He didn’t have to go charging into the night alone. He would call in every single fucking favor owed him to see her safely back. Aiden closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them, he felt more in control. It was a lie, but he’d take what he could get at the moment. “Get Cillian and as many men as we have in the house. Keep it quiet so we don’t panic Keira and Olivia and Hadley.”
“Got it.” Mark disappeared, and Aiden belatedly realized that he should have been more comforting. Mark was Liam’s fucking cousin. He’d send him to the hospital and take someone else to lead the attack-and-rescue mission.
First, he had to figure out where Mae had taken Charlie.
He flipped through his phone to find the last person he wanted to call. But pride and old vendettas had no importance when Charlie’s life was on the line.
