I turn to face the rest of them. “Looks like she's taken her money to pay it—she's the only one I told about it. Malachy said if I told you lads, I'd be fucked. That we all would.” I shake my head. “But we are now anyway. If I don't pay it, we’re fucked. You see?”
“When do you have to pay it?” Seamus grits out.
“Andwhoare we paying?” Da asks.
“Good fucking question,” I tell him. “That's exactly what I've been trying to find out. And while I haven't told you lads before, it's time. It's time for me to bring my family in.”
Declan frowns as I turn to the warehouse. “I'm going in.” I take a step toward the warehouse and stagger. Declan catches me this time, holding me steady.
“Are you sure you're bloody up for this, brother? Jesus?—”
I think about Erin. About how she looked when I kissed her the last time—soft and warm and mine. The way her eyes met mine in the darkness, full of trust.
“I've had worse,” I say. “Worse than a knock on the head, you gobshite.” I straighten and push him off me, then check my gun. “Let's go get my wife.”
The warehouse looms ahead, dark and waiting. Someone's dying tonight.
And it sure as hell won't be my wife.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Erin
Behind my back,zip ties cut into my wrists. I can feel blood trickling down my fingers where the plastic digs in.
“You have the money,” I say, my voice echoing off the metal walls. The money sits at the masked man’s feet like a trophy before he pulls off the damn mask.
Donovan. Ofcourseit was fucking Donovan. I knew it was an inside job, and that smarmy smile of his and those lifeless eyes?—
“You're the spy,” I say, when the realization hits me like ice water.
“Clever girl.” He winks at me like I'm a child who's finally solved a puzzle. “Guess you did well in school, didn't you? Took you long enough.”
I shake my head. “Why? It's all there. Every cent. Just let me go.”
Donovan’s leaning against a support beam, his arms crossed, his face twisting into something I don't recognize. Something cruel.
“And you're a fucking traitor,” I add, my voice cracking.
“Ah, sure we have the money, darling,” he says, his accent thicker than usual, rough around the edges. What's he been playing at all this time? “But that's not really what this is about anymore, is it?”
My heart's hammering so hard I can barely breathe.
“Cavin is going tokillyou for this.”
That makes him actually laugh, like I've told the funniest joke he's ever heard. But when he looks at me again, his eyes are cold.
“Really now? See, that's where you're wrong, love.” He pushes off the beam, then walks toward me slowly. “I have far more bargaining chips than you're aware of.”
I try to scoot back, but there's nowhere to go. The back of the chair hits the wall. I'm out of options now, completely and utterly fucked.
“You know the best part?” He crouches down in front of me, close enough I can smell the whiskey on his breath. “Cavin doesn't even know who's been playing him this whole time.”
“Why?” The word comes out broken. “You’re family—you're his cousin. He said you're loyal. Family's supposed to mean something, right?”
He stands abruptly. “Tell me, Erin, what did your family mean to you? What did your da mean to you?”
I flinch at the mention of my father. “Leave him the fuck out of this.”
