We move quickly and quietly, slipping toward the side entrance. It’s unguarded because it’s locked, but Flynn grew up as a starving kid that had to steal, and he has a number of skillsthat require being quick, silent, and sneaky. One of those is that he knows how to pick a lock. He has it open in seconds. We slip inside, guns drawn, every sense on high alert.
The warehouse is mostly empty, just concrete floors and metal support beams and shadows. But there's light coming from the back, and voices. I can hear them now—male voices, rough and casual. And underneath it all, I hear a sound that makes my blood run cold.
Crying. Quiet and muffled, but unmistakable.
Maeve.
I move before I can think, before Flynn can stop me. I head toward that sound like it's the only thing in the world that matters, because it is.She is.
We round a corner, and I see her.
My wife.Maeve.Tied to a chair in the middle of an open space, blood on her face, her clothes torn, her eyes?—
Her eyes dart up, finding mine, and I see fear turn into pure relief. And then I see Brennan.
He's standing off to the side, perfectly dressed as always, that politician's smile on his face. He's looking at me with satisfaction.
"Sean Flannery," he says, voice smooth as silk. "Right on time."
I raise my gun, but I'm not fast enough. Men emerge from the shadows, at least six of them, all armed. Flynn swears beside me, but we're surrounded and outgunned. Exactly like Brennan planned.
"I wouldn't," Brennan says mildly, and one of his men presses a gun to Maeve's head.
She whimpers, and the sound nearly breaks me.
I lower my weapon. So does Flynn. We don't have a choice. He’s just taken that away from us. I know in an instant I’ve done this all wrong… but what else could I have done?
There’s a way out of this. I just have to find it.
"That's better." Brennan steps forward, studying me with interest. "You know, I wasn't entirely sure you'd come. I thought perhaps the marriage was just for show, just another Council arrangement. But the way you're looking at her right now..." He smiles, and it's genuine. Delighted. "This is even better than I expected. You actually care about her."
"Let her go." My voice is steady despite the rage burning through me. "This is between you and me, Brennan. Let her go and we can settle this."
"Oh, I don't think so." Brennan circles us slowly, like a shark. "You see, Sean, I've been planning this for a long time. Ever since you tried to kill me. Ever since you were going to blow up my family and me."
"You used them as shields," I spit. "You put your wife and kid in front of you because you knew I wouldn't take the shot. Iwarnedyou. I took that shot so you wouldn’t put them in a car that was about to blow up. And this is how you repay me? You’re nothing but a coward who uses a child as a shield because you knew I wouldn’t shoot."
"And I was right, wasn't I?" Brennan's smile widens. "You have a code. Twisted as it is, you have lines you won't cross. It's almost admirable. Almost."
He flicks a hand and his men move in, grabbing Flynn and me and forcing us to our knees. I don't resist. I can't, not with that gun still pressed to Maeve's head. I meet her eyes, try to tell her without words that it's going to be okay, that I'll fix this. That I…
Fuck, I think I love her. And I’m realizing it way too fucking late.
"Here's what's going to happen," Brennan says, his voice taking on a lecturing tone, like a disappointed father. "I'm going to do this differently than I originally planned. I'm not going tojust kill you, Sean. That would be too quick, too merciful. No, I'm going to make you watch. I'm going to make you watch as I kill your wife. Slowly. Painfully. And then, when you're broken and begging, then I'll kill you too." He pauses. “I could let my men have her, first. That would make it worse, wouldn’t it? So we’ll make a deal. You be a good boy and watch, and don’t try to fight your way out of this. Then she just dies.”
"No." The word tears out of me, my heart feeling as if it’s being wrenched from my chest. Suddenly I feel like a boy again, seeing that cop on my doorstep, hearing that my mother is dead. Seeing her body, the parts of her face missing from the gunshot. I feel young and helpless and so, so fucking angry. "No, please. Please, Brennan. Kill me. Do whatever you want to me. But let her go. She's innocent. She has nothing to do with this."
"But that's exactly the point." Brennan crouches down in front of me, and his eyes are cold. Empty. "You tried to kill me, Sean. You nearly killed my family. So now I'm going to take yours. Poetic justice, don't you think? You lose the one thing you care about. I had no idea there was anything at all. This is a marvelous thing to find out.”
He stands and turns toward Maeve. "What should I do first?” he muses, taking a step toward her.
"No!" I lunge forward, unable to stop myself despite Brennan’s threats, but the men holding me are ready. They force me back down, and I feel the barrel of a gun press against the base of my skull.
"Sean." Maeve's voice is small and scared, but stronger than I would have expected. "Sean, it's okay. It's okay."
"It's not okay." I'm barely holding it together now. "Maeve, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I should have told you—I should have?—"
“I know,” she whispers, and I see tears tracking down her cheeks. “I should have, too.”
