“You’ll get what's coming, you just get to live a little longer.”
I hear Aoife scream again, and see Conor’s still trying to pull her, she’s fighting.
He stops and shouts something at her, and she tries to punch him but he stops her, but then she knees him in the balls. That’s my girl.
I move quickly toward her before he can reach for her again, just as I get to her, a shot hits my shoulder.
Fuck, the burn hits me hard.
But I won't stop.
“Matteo!” she screams.
“I’m fine.” My hand grabs hers, yanking her into my arms. “We’re getting out. We run.” She nods, and I look behind me at my brothers and Nico, who are clearing the path for us.
Bullets trail behind us.
Sebastian’s voice crackles over the comms in my ear. “Extraction’s outside.”
I kick open the side doors of the church, gun drawn in my other hand, blood dripping down my arm. Aoife’s clinging to me, barefoot, shaking, but alive.
She’s alive. I got her out.
That’s when I hear Nico’s voice behind me, low and furious.
“They fired first,” he says.
“They wanted blood,” Milo says from behind me.
I turn around quickly to make sure Marco is there too. I’m not losing any more family to them. I don’t see him. “Where’s Marco?” I ask looking around worried they have him.
“He was behind me.” Milo looks around.
“Aoife get in the car, Uncle Seb?—”
“There he is!” Milo points to the church as Marco runs out, smiling. Asshole.
“Fuck, they wanted to kill us tonight.” Marco laughs as he joins us.
Something we all know, the blood in that church isn’t on our hands; it’s on theirs.
The door splinters open behind us. Shouts rise. Guns are drawn. But I don’t hear any of it, just her breath, ragged in my arms. Just the sound of her heart against mine.
"Move!" Nico shouts behind us, a wall of death in black. "Go. Go!"
She’s barely standing, so I hold her tighter, whispering, “I’ve got you, little lamb. I’ve got you.”
We pile into the armored car. Sebastian’s already behind the wheel. Milo slams the doors shut. Marco covers the rear, barking into the comm. The Irish aren’t following, not yet. Maybe they’re still stunned. Maybe they’re licking their wounds.
“Drive,” I snarl, brushing blood from her lip. “Now.”
“You’re shot?—”
“It’s fine,” I cut Aoife off, and place my gun on my leg, as I pull her in closer. Right now, all I want to do is hold her, she’s back in my arms and I want to savor the moment.
“The jet is ready,” Nico tells us, looking at his phone, and the corner of his lip curls up.
The humof the engine is constant. The cabin is dim. She’s wrapped in a blanket, curled on the leather seat beside me like she’s afraid to breathe too deeply.
