Page 33 of Finn

He leaned over and kissed me. “You should be living with me.”

I shook my head. “Too soon, Finn O’Reilly.”

He kissed me again, his eyes dancing. “I’ve waited years, mo chroí. I think my patience needs to be rewarded.”

“Then take me home.”

He stood, holding out his hand. We were headed toward the door when it happened. I heard the sound of gunshots and shattering glass. People began screaming. Finn cursed, drawing a gun I had no idea he was carrying, shoving me behind him and yelling at me to get down. His men outside were returning fire, and as fast as it began, it stopped, the echoes of the shots lingering in the eerie silence that fell. I staggered to my feet in shock, staring at Finn. Then in horror at the blood that was soaking through his shirt.

“Una,” he gasped. “Are you hurt?” He stepped toward me, and I grabbed at his arm.

“Finn, you need to sit!”

“Why?”

“You’ve been shot!”

He glanced down, looking surprised. He looked up, frowning. “That explains the pain.”

Then he collapsed.

The ride to the hospital was a blur. His men had bundled him and me into a car, not waiting for an ambulance. We were met at the entrance to the ER, and Finn was whisked away. I stood in shock outside the doors they took him through, unsure what to do. Moments later, Niall arrived, taking charge. He wrapped me in his overcoat and sat me down, leaving one of the men with me. He spoke to the doctors then kneeled in front of me.

“They’re taking him to surgery, Una.”

“He’ll be okay?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

His face was grave. “They’re doing the best they can.”

“He’ll be okay,” I repeated, more firmly.

He nodded. “It’s Finn.”

“It’s Finn,” I echoed.

I paced for what felt like hours. I heard snippets of the conversation—enough to know what had happened.

“Who was it?” Niall demanded of the men. “Who did you see?”

“I didn’t know him,” Rory, his driver, spoke up. “But I recognized the tattoo on his arm. It was from Diego’s gang he chased out of town.”

“Dammit,” Niall responded. “I knew they’d return.”

Rory’s eyes skittered to me. “I don’t think it was him they wanted to take out. I think they were aiming elsewhere to send a message.”

I swallowed at the lump in my throat.

Someone with a grudge against Finn decided to take away the one thing that seemed to mean a lot to him.

Me.

The gunfire was to kill me.

Instead, he took the bullet.

Just like my dad did for him.

Niall pressed a coffee into my hand, and I grabbed at his wrist before he could leave.