“Quarry road. Black van. He took her.” She swallows, eyes unfocused. “Sean, my Manhattan contact.”
I don’t know a damned thing about the man, but his name tastes like murder. I’m going to fucking destroy thebastardo. I rip my shirt, then bind her shoulder tight and fast. She doesn’t flinch.
Then I scoop her into my arms and turn toward the house.
“Where are you going?” she squeals.
“I’m leaving you with Brian, and I’m going to get our daughter.”
“No.” She pushes out of my arms, trying and failing to hide the wince. “I’m going with you. It’s Livia.” That name on her lips wrecks me all over again.
Gritting my teeth, I nod, despite every bone in my body yelling at me to keep her safe.
So we go, leaving Brian at the cottage to call for backup.
We’re in the car in seconds, my foot pressed to the gas. The car claws the lane and eats the distance. With my phone already plugged into the console, I punch the screen for a local camera net I paid too much money to borrow, fingers flying. Plate readers cough up a black van that blew through a stop sign two minutes ahead, headed west toward the old stone quarry.
“Hold on.” I squeeze Cat’s good hand before returning mine to the wheel.
She braces with her good arm. She is breathing like a fighter, not a victim, and pride hits me so hard it almost knocks me off the road.
Then I call Ale. He picks up on the first ring.
“What happened?”
“They took my daughter.” Saying it cracks something and welds it in the same breath. “Sean Murphy, one of Tiernan’s Manhattan guys. Black van. I’m sending you my location. I need eyes, and I need the noose dropped around his neck.”
“You have both.” His answer is immediate. “I’m dropping a net on all exits. I will vector our boys to block the county line. Send me your feed.”
Cat’s phone vibrates on her thigh, drawing my attention. A picture flashes. Livia in the passenger seat, cheeks slick but expression stubborn. The caption is a knife to the heart.
Come alone, Rossi. Or I’ll teach your brat to swim.
Cat’s face crumples for an instant before it hardens. “I’m going to ring that shitehead’s neck myself.”
“We are not playing by his rules, Cat. Hold on.”
The hedges peel away to low scrub. The quarry road is a gray ribbon toward the gravel pit and lake below. I kill my lights and decelerate. A battered lorry lumbers out from a service turn, so damned wide it takes up both lanes.Get out of my damned way. I can just make out the black van ahead. As if Sean’s seen me too, he swerves and clips the sidewalk. Pressing my foot to the gas, I overtake the lumbering lorry and appear at the van’s side. I nudge the rear quarter of the vehicle, carefully—my baby is inside—but enough to sting.
The van skids, gravel sprays, and then sputters to a stop only a few feet from the quarry ahead. I trail after him into the outeryard where rusted conveyors and excavators cross the sky and the lake sits black as spilled oil.
Slamming on the brakes, I dart out of the car. Cat is out with me, gun high in her good hand.
The van’s driver door kicks open. Sean spills from the vehicle with blood dried on his forearm and a smile that says he’s teetering on the edge. He hauls Livia across the front seat with his free arm and keeps her tucked into his side like cargo.
Cat’s breath catches, a choked sob. “It’s okay,a stór. Mammy’s here.”
Rage hemorrhages through my veins, but I keep the monster at bay for her. Livia’s eyes are locked on mine, her bottom lip trembling.
“Let go of my daughter.” My voice is an eerie calm I barely recognize. My fingers are inches from my gun, but I don’t dare move when he’s holding my baby.
“Not a chance, Rossi.”
“Why?” Cat’s voice cuts across the yard, cracked and cold. “Why her? Why now?”
He cocks his head, amused. “Because you took Eoin from me.” His eyes glitter. “Didn’t know he had a brother, did you? Half-brother, to be exact. Tiernan’s bastard the family wouldn’t claim. Your Eoin was the only one who treated me like more than a dog. Now Tiernan’s dead and someone has to do the honors.”
He lifts the pistol, not at me. At Cat.
