“They aren’t even listening to me,” Jamie whined.
“If I didn’t have to listen to ya, I wouldn’t,” Corbin replied dryly, making me smile in amusement.
“Aye, all right. I get it.” Jamie sighed and threw the ball against the wall, making a loudthumpthat had Cillian’s shoulders tensing farther.
I turned to glare at Jamie, but it was Corbin who noticed first. He murmured something under his breath that I couldn’t hear as he stood and intercepted the ball before it could land back in Jamie’s hands. He leaned down and said something to his boss, and Jamie made a sound of surprise.
Ignoring them, I looked back out over the railing to the people below. The strong wind made the ocean waves crash against the shoreline, and despite the weather, there were still people running into the water. It had me snorting. That was one way of getting injured.
“We’ve got movement,” Cillian snapped, rising to his feet with the binoculars still against his eyes. “They’re in a white Rolls-Royce Cullinan. Classy vehicle.”
I stepped up beside him and checked in the direction of the salon. The Cullinan pulled into the service alley and stopped behind the shop, and the driver hopped out immediately, racing around to the rear door. Before the passenger in the back got out, though, an umbrella was opened. The person slid out, followed by three more visitors, including what was obviously a woman in a body-hugging black dress.
“Feck. I can’t see their faces. The umbrellas hide them.” Cillian cursed under his breath.
“You can’t see Joaquin?” I asked, squinting. “The SUV he had was a Jag.” A gust of wind blew some of the spitting rain onto the balcony and against us, and I blinked the water from my eyes. The weather was on its way to getting worse, with the rain picking up strength.
“There’s a wee woman, and three blokes, but I can’t see any of their faces, and they’re all wearing suits. Fecking hell.”
Jamie and Corbin came rushing out and grabbed the railing, looking toward the salon.
“It has to be Joaquin.” Jamie rocked on his heels. “He was going to meet Cunningham there, right?”
“That doesn’t mean that’s him,” Cillian growled out, more in frustration than anger at Jamie. “They’re inside. Boss, what are yer orders? I can go down there if ye need. Get closer.”
“If ya get closer, ya risk them seein’ ya.” Jamie frowned and pressed his hand to his mouth in thought. With him in charge, this was his show, and we would do whatever he chose. Finally, he nodded. “They killed Sidorov’s people without a second thought in order to try to get at the boss and his pet. Do it. Blow it. Ithasto be Joaquin, and we won’t get another chance like this. Hit the detonator.”
My need to get things right the first time had me hesitating. I hated the idea of pushing the button without the confirmation of seeing Joaquin, because if we missed, it could rain hell down on us, not only from Sloan, but for future attempts at taking Joaquin out again. But Cillian and I weren’t in charge of this assignment, and with the order from a higher up, I had no choice but to slam down the button with my thumb.
The floor beneath us shook and an explosion erupted from the salon. Debris blasted upward, along with dust and flames big enough to reach the roof of the building next to it. Alarms blared from cars that had been upturned and a strange rumble had my gut churning.
“We need to leave,” Jamie said sharply, and we moved quickly. We already had our belongings packed and stowed in our vehicle, and we’d told the staff we were checking out today, paying our bill early. We walked out into the hallway with the panicking visitors and used the chaos to blend in, then took the stairs.
By the time we got to the foyer, slotted our key cards in the quick check-out box, and got out the front doors, the crowd on the street was massive, with some people rushing toward the salon to see if they could help anyone. We went in the opposite direction, striding with intent as we headed back two streets and found the CR-V Jamie had brought with us. Once we were in and headed toward Sloan’s mansion, I was finally able to relax, taking a deep breath.
I was in the back beside Cillian, while Corbin took the wheel with Jamie in the front passenger side. Falling against the seat, I reached for Cillian’s hand, which rested between us. I threaded our fingers together, expecting him to tug away in panic. To my pleasant surprise, he gripped my hand tightly, sending me a half smile. The tension on his face had relaxed slightly and he appeared relieved the job was done, but it didn’t sit right with me.
Was Joaquin in there? I hated not knowing for sure, but I understood why Jamie had given the order. Either way, we sent a message:don’t fuck with the Killough Company.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, calming my breathing. I was always ready for torture, but bombs were a completely different thing. It seemed impersonal and cold, and there was something uncontrollable about it, but it was our only option this time. It was the only way we could get close enough to Joaquin, and it mirrored exactly what they’d done to us, but this time there was death for the main family. Joaquin had missed killing Sloan Killough, but we hadn’t missedhim. At least, I hoped we hadn’t.
I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but I woke to the feel of a mouth at my earlobe, sucking gently. I smiled and opened my eyes. “Mm. That’s nice.”
Cillian sat back and smirked. “We’re at the mansion. Come on. Let’s go in and call our boys.”
I hummed and opened the door. He got out his side and met me around on mine, and together we walked in behind Jamie and Corbin, who were already at the front when I got out of the car. We went through the foyer, then into the airy hall and up the wide wooden stairs, heading toward Cillian’s room.
By the time we got inside, my body ached, and I was tired even though it was only about six thirty in the morning. The tension had left me sore and exhausted, and I needed a shower. I didn’t have to tell Cillian any of this, though, because it was like he already knew and led me toward the en suite.
“I’ll call our boys. Go take a shower.”
I grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss, and he leaned against me, eating my mouth like he wanted to devour me and be dominant, and I was too tired to fight him. I let him take charge, and he grunted into our kiss, nipping my bottom lip hard enough to break the skin and make it bleed. He made a sound of appreciation before he winked.
“Shower. Ye stink.”
I laughed because I knew that wasn’t true, but Cillian didn’t want it to sound like he cared, because God forbid he show anyone other than Vail he was worried about them. I left him in the bedroom and walked into the bathroom, ridding myself of my clothes before stepping into the glass shower stall. Briefly I considered getting into the oval tub, but this would be easier. Switching on the water to scalding, I moaned when the spray slammed against my sore muscles.
Times like this, I needed Vail or Fallon here to wash me down and knead my shoulders. While Cillian and I had made progress, I didn’t see him doing that for me. No one quite understood him the way I did, not even Vail, but that wasn’t his fault. Cillian hid from the world like a scared child, and I didn’t blame him. He’d opened himself once to someone—his father—and was knocked down and had his heart destroyed. He had a reason to be afraid.
