He pauses, giving me a second to digest that information. Mac “The Mako” Donnelly is Chicago’s Irish syndicate boss. He’s saying Lennon is the daughter of Mac Donnelly?
Christ. How is that possible?
He continues. “Angela left him. The thing is though, she didn’t tell him she was pregnant.” He shrugs. “Probably why she left. Didn’t want to raise her kid in our world. Anyway, she changed her last name. Started a new life here in Florida, never looked back.”
I’m fighting to stay conscious despite this revelation. “How did he find out about Lennon?”
He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. “Her mam’s sister. She’s got a gambling problem. Came to Da, offered information for a bailout.”
Fucking cunt.Betraying her own sister and niece. “You have proof of what you’re saying?”
“Aye.” He slides his phone from his jeans pocket, pulls up something and hands it to me. “These are the results of the DNA test I had done from a coffee cup Lennon discarded. Just got them back yesterday. It’s why I haven’t approached her yet. Wanted to make sure we weren’t swindled.”
I will my eyes to focus as I stare at the results. Looks legit. “Can you forward this to my email?”
He takes his phone back, and I recite my email.
“Done.” He slips it back in his pocket and folds his arms. “But you have some questions about what happened yesterday, yeah?”
Yesterday?The horror hits me. While I’ve been lying here, the Russian pricks have had Lennon for a full day. A moan escapes my throat.
Rocco walks over, grabs the water cup, and makes me take a few sips. I swallow and grit my teeth, pushing away the pain.
Killian continues. “I was down the road a bit, behind you when that white SUV came out of nowhere and slammed into you. Unfortunately, they got to Lennon before I could. But I managedto stab one of the fuckers when they came ‘round and pulled a gun on you. Stopped him from puttin’ a bullet in your brain. There were too many witnesses to slit his throat.” He cocks his head. “He cursed me in Russian. What do the Russians want with Lennon?”
It takes me a second to process what he just said. He basically saved my life.
Well, fuck.No wonder Rocco trusts him already.
“We’re trying to run them out of Tampa for trafficking. They’re going to use her to control me.” In other words, it’s my fault. It’s my fault she’s in the hands of the same people who killed her mother. I reach over and yank the IV out of my arm. Blood immediately runs down my forearm. I press the sheet against it.
“Sandro,” Rocco barks, leaping toward the bed.
I hold up a hand. “Just get my fucking clothes. We’re getting her back. Tonight.” The room tilts and spins as I push myself up. My stomach heaves. A cold sweat breaks out over my body. I breathe through clenched teeth.
Rocco shakes his head. “For Christ’s sake.”
“That’s an order as your Don.”
Rocco glares at me and throws up his hands. Then he makes a call to Gunnar and tells him he’s bringing me home before he pulls a plastic bag from the closet.
Killian stands and moves the chair back to the window. He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets again, a serious gleam in his eye as he watches me.
I’m in too much pain and too filled with anxiety and rage to deal with it. “What the fuck are you staring at?”
He smiles. It’s part amusement and part respect. “Just thinking I may have misjudged you.”
Rocco takes my clothes out of a plastic bag. They smell sour and my white dress shirt is stiff with dried blood. He frowns as he unfolds it, then shoves it back in the bag. “I’ll give you my jacket to put on.”
I concentrate on my breathing instead of the pain in my head and ribs as I get dressed.
Rocco glares at me and scrubs a hand down his face. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? I’m getting you a wheelchair to get to the parking lot.” He holds up his hand as I start to argue. “Non-fucking-negotiable. Save your strength for whatever fucked up plan you’re going to come up with to get Lennon back.” He turns on his heels, throwing behind him, “Killian, watch him. Make sure he doesn’t pass out and bust his stubborn head open.”
Chapter 33
Lennon
As I drift in and out of consciousness, the sound of loud arguing in Russian grabs my attention and pulls me into the present. I peel my eyes open and glance around.
