“Why would Tally have a secret compartment in her backpack?” I ask before I turn her bag inside out so we can each see the space.
Ronin takes one sniff at it, his eyes narrowing. “A better question is, why can I smell that Johnny’s had his fucking fingers inside a space we didn’t know existed?”
“He’s got something of hers,” Keegan hisses.
My brother looks off strangely, and it gives pause to the moment. Because if any of us were to go off at someone having something of our wife’s, it would be him. He’s obsessed with Tally and everything about her.
“She said something once about trusting her.” He swings to face us. “She’d never betray us, like Noinin never led us astray.”
It’s like a clap of thunder and sends us into action. The rear door gets slammed down. Tynan and Keegan move to the back seats, and I’m about to offer to drive when Ronin claps his hands, pushing me towards the passenger’s door.
He somehow beats me to the driver's seat, pulling the door wide open. The interior light hits on a small gift box. A pale pinkglittery bow on top should make the box pretty, but it’s like a taunt from the devil himself.
“Don’t get in the car,” I shout, stopping everyone mid-movement. And then, one by one, they ease back. “They’re fucking with us. Someone has the central remote to our car still, and…”
“A car bomb?” Tynan snarls, crouching down and pointing his gun into the shadows.
Keegan tugs me behind him before he’s searching the night for our enemies.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ronin says. I pop my head up to check on him. His voice sounds weird now. Floaty, even, for my stressed-as-fuck Alpha, which has all the alarm bells in my head ringing.
He’s checked out on us. Instead of running or screaming his frustrations, he’s quiet as he reaches in and grabs the “gift” someone left. I remember the last time he was like this. It was when we first discovered Noinin was missing.
Ronin closes his eyes. His knuckles run over his chest, and his lips are moving as if in prayer. Before anyone can object, he opens the box.
The sound he makes when he sees what’s inside breaks my heart.
The scent of her blood pierces my soul.
Chapter Fifty-One
TALLY
Anew person comes in during the dead of night. Wordlessly, they blindfold me, then they put a hood over my head, plunging me headfirst into fear.
Without warning, they snatch my elbow, pull me to my feet, and start walking. As I stumble blindly, they pay my distress no credence, never slowing their gait or uttering a word. Which only adds to the growing ball inside my stomach that my time is done.
Of course I’m terrified of dying. Probably more than being ratted out as undercover. I truly have never considered myself as being a martyr; my own selfish reasons for living kind of offset that benevolence. But as I’m led off, I think of my movie date with Tynan. Dying in the place of someone you love is a good, noble way to die.
There’s no soul-trembling revelation to my epiphany. Pack O’Connor has always brought me soul-deep happiness and peace. Despite our time being over before it started, everymoment with them was dipped in tumultuous wonder. I’ll do everything I can to protect them.
It’s the reason I stagger down hard on one foot and activate my tracker. In my moments of lucidity during my capture, I swiped a bloody fingerprint on my bedframe, under it too. Spat on things, leaving my DNA wherever I could think of.
The police will see my cell as a place I was held. Pack O’Connor will see it differently and make the clergy pay.
All that’s left is to find the key that ties it all together. Black and his crew are obviously involved. As is the woman with the heavy accent and vicious intentions. The church has a part to play. And then there’s Arthur Kelly’s and Walsh’s murders.
There’s a bloody power play happening, where only the strongest will be left standing, but there are other, less obvious, things muddying the way. I’ll be doing everything and anything to help those investigating.
Time is a complete unknown, making everything more difficult and unsettling. With the fever dreams and sense deprivation, I have no idea how many days have passed. For all I know, it might only be hours, and Pack O’Connor is still lavishing their Omega.
Cold air hits my hands, though I don’t get much time for that to sink in before I get shoved and go sailing through the air. Landing on my hands and knees hurts, but when my finger stub smashes into something, I faint. I wake up to the hum of an engine and the stop-start notion of driving. A fast corner has me sliding and crashing up against the side of the van. Before I right myself, we come to a stop.
The driver and passenger slam their doors shut, making me jump a mile high. The wait is excruciating, made worse because I can’t see what’s going on. A door opens, and I nearly tumble out, but hands grab my feet, then my arms and I get carried. I try to count steps, for no other reason but to keep myself from freakingout. I lose focus when another door opens and a rush of death invades my senses.
The stench is overpowering. Maybe that was the point of it because it leaves me completely disorientated. I get dropped, and my arse is instantly cold. The hood gets pulled off, and once my eyes adjust, I’m face-to-face with a dead man.
Crawling away, I back into my captors, who stayed to watch my reaction.
