“Pet!” Sloan’s rough, panicked voice surprised me into glancing at him. I couldn’t remember a time I ever heard the boss sound that terrified, but I hadn’t ever been near him when something happened to Conall.
The air around us was thick with dust and every breath I took ached, but it wasn’t as painful as seeing Sloan’s fear-stricken face as he stared around the mess the bomb had left behind. He stumbled forward, his expression flickering between terrified and murderous, caught between being scared for his pet and furious at whoever did this.
I stepped forward, knees wobbly but determined to find Conall.
“Conall, where are you?” Sloan’s desperation leaked through to his voice, raw with emotion. “Call out to me. Now.”
Cillian was already shoving forward to search for Conall, and I wasn’t far behind him. Now that I knew Fallon was safe, I could focus on the situation. A fucking bomb. Who the hell would do that?
Sloan stumbled toward some rubble, his hands shaking as he grabbed pieces of thick brick and threw them aside, as though he’d find Conall underneath them. Cillian was heading in the direction of the shops, while I focused on the people on the ground. There weren’t many victims, but it was clear none of them were Conall. They didn’t wear suits.
Sirens filled the air, getting closer.
“Boss!” Cillian shouted, and Sloan froze as Cillian walked out of a cloud of dust, Conall limping at his side.
Sloan rushed forward like a man possessed, wrapping his arms around Conall, which earned him a grunt. Sloan kissed his face and cheeks and jaw, and Conall laughed quietly, though he cringed and held his left arm against his body, protecting it.
“I think I broke my arm,” he nearly shouted, as though he couldn’t hear how loud he spoke.
Brion appeared at our side and looked as bad as the rest of us—scratches, blood, a gash over his forehead, and dirty. “We need to get out of here. The cops’ll be here soon.”
“Dylan, the driver,” Sloan said, jaw tight as he held Conall against his side. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. “I told him to take a walk while we conducted business.”
“We’ll call him. I’ll drive the car.” Brion trembled and waved his hand at his Mustang, now on its roof in the street. Sloan’s BMW had escaped most of the damage. “We need to leave.”
Sloan nodded and threw Brion the keys he had in his pocket, and I turned and made sure to grab Fallon’s arm as we all ducked into the customized vehicle, which was designed with three seats facing the front and three more seats facing the back. There was enough room for everyone—although it was a squeeze with four of us on the side facing the rear—while Brion took the driver’s seat and started the engine. If anyone noticed us leaving, they didn’t stop us, and knowing Sloan the plates were fake and we’d ditch them when we got back to his place.
Cillian glanced out the window, mouth turned downward as Brion pulled the car out onto the battered street and dodged obstacles. The vehicle rocked over debris, but soon we were in the clear.
“I loved the Expedition,” Cillian grumbled.
Sloan had Conall against his side and was checking his injuries, and every time Sloan touched his left arm Conall cringed and cursed. He whispered something to Conall, who nodded and smiled with a half wince. I didn’t hear what they said to each other—my attention caught between watching Sloan for answers and checking on Fallon. From what I’d seen, Fallon had nothing but scratches, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I’d call Nick as soon as we got home.
“I’ll need to contact Rumi,” Sloan said, already pulling out his cell phone. “There’s nothing in your car that’ll identify you?”
My poor hat had been left inside. I’d miss it, but I had others.
Cillian shook his head. “No, Boss.”
“Good. Rumi can change the registration to a random person before the cops can run the plates. Yours too, Brion.”
I couldn’t see Brion with my back toward the driver’s seat, but he said, “Yes, sir,” in a quiet, shaky voice.
“Who would do this?” Fallon asked, but I shushed him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Later, love. We’ll talk about this later.”
Fallon stared at me. I had time to study a faint shiner beginning around his left eye before he finally nodded. I knew one thing for sure... whoever did this would regret it if Sloan’s deadly gaze said anything. No one hurt Conall.
14
FALLON
My left eye ached,but not bad, and every time I went to rub at it Aspen caught my wrist and pushed my hand down. My head was spacey and my ears were ringing, not loud enough to stop me from hearing the world, but definitely enough to be annoying.
“Take us to my Midtown apartment,” Sloan ordered Brion, and he nodded. He didn’t ask any follow-up questions, so he must’ve been there before. The car lurched through traffic, and I held my breath as my stomach, which usually didn’t have issues, threatened to send everything I’d eaten today up for a colorful review. I swallowed hard.
“Where are the rest of the guys?” I asked quietly.
