“Do you regret it?”
I’m about to open my mouth and answer when the sound of glass breaking and a gunshot pop strikes through the air.
Finn is quick, still only in boxer briefs, as he goes to his nightstand and grabs two handguns. He hands me one and presses a finger to his lips for me to be quiet. I clasp the heavy metal in my hands. It’s been a while since I’ve actually had to hold a weapon, but I know how to use it all the same.
He peeks out of his door frame and looks down the hallway.
“Go to the nest, lock yourself in. Do not leave until one of us comes to get you,” he tells me.
My heart is racing, my legs feel like jelly, and all I want to do is break down. I’m so fucking tired. I just want to sleep and work things out between us so I can fully feel bonded with him.
“Go, Elena,” he urges me as he stands facing the opposite direction, holding his gun out.
The house is eerily quiet. I can’t hear any of the guys speaking or moving, and my mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario. What if they’ve been hurt? Or worse?
My barely working legs take me to the nest, and Finn turns as I shut the door, making sure it locks behind me.
My forehead hits the cool metal of the door, and I take a few steadying breaths. I have to stay calm not only for myself, but for Finn now too. If all I’m shouting down the bond is panic, it might distract him.
I breathe in through my nose and out my mouth, willing myself to calm down. I tuck the gun in the pocket of the hoodie I’m wearing and hope that one of them comes to get me quickly.
“It’s been too long, sister,” a voice says from behind me, and my heart automatically sinks.
When I turn around and walk down the hall, my brother is standing there, Lorcán on his knees next to him, while Anthony points a gun at his temple.
“Anthony, we can talk about this.” I put my hands up in a sign of surrender. My brother looks worse for wear, a black eye and a huge bruise on his jaw. His hair is loose and messy and his suit is wrinkled, like he’s been wearing it for days.
“There’s no need to talk. You know, you were almost scot-free. I was fine, building a better, stronger empire in Reno. You know the Barbieri girl is an Omega, right? Her dear old dad has been hiding her designation from the families. She was better to use instead of you because I could actually fuck her instead of trading her like the worthless piece of pussy that she is.”
Lorcán looks like he wants to kill my brother. But his eyes don’t leave mine.
“The Irish deal was our father’s plan. I went with it at first, thinking Seamus would work with me, would help me get to the next level. That’s when I found out this traitor was working for him the whole fucking time.”
Anthony pushes the gun against his temple a few times to punctuate his words.
“They don’t respect me. Father didn’t fucking respect me; he only cared about you,” Anthony snarls, taking the gun off of Lorcán’s temple and holding it toward me.
“It was always about you. How perfect and smart, and how much you looked like Mom. He never even noticed me. I did everything he asked of me, everything! And what do I get? I get to be the fucking laughingstock of Las Vegas.”
Lorcán takes a breath of relief when Anthony turns the gun back on him. My hands slowly lower to my sides, but Anthony says nothing as he looks down at Lorcán.
“I brought you in. I trusted you. You chose her.” Anthony presses the gun against Lorcán’s head harder, and my breathing hitches. “I hope you know it’s all you and your traitorous family’s fault; you sealed her fate, Lorcán,” Anthony sneers his name.
My brother’s cruel eyes meet mine as I take a breath and wrap my hands around the gun inside the pocket. He looks crazed as he looks back at me, though it feels like he’s looking through me.
“You’re lucky I have some fucking use for you, Elena, or you’d be just as dead as this motherfucker—just as dead as our father. Your new pack in Reno will keep you in line.”
My heart skips a beat—he didn’t—they said it was a heart attack.Did he kill our father?
Lorcán is only focused on me, and he glances at my brother’s leg and then back at me; it’s as clear of a sign as I’ll get. I swallow thickly as he rears back his head, hitting my brother in the leg and throwing him off kilter.
I don’t think.
I just pull the gun from my pocket and aim at my brother. It happens so fast that I don’t even know where I hit him as I pull the trigger, and the gun kicks back in my hand. The sound is deafening, and I watch as my brother falls to the floor.
My vision is hazy, the dehydration and exhaustion kicking in as I fall to my knees, placing the gun on the ground. I can see Lorcán do something to my brother, probably grabbing his gun and checking him for more weapons before he crouches down in front of me. He looks directly into my eyes, searching.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice filled with fear and anxiety.
