Page 96 of Sullivan

Calvin whimpered and moaned like the little bitch he was. “I need help! I’m bleeding!”

“Jesus, shut up,” Niall demanded, pointing his gun. “Or I’ll shoot the other knee, you fecking bastard. In fact⁠—”

I turned away as the gun went off. This time, there was a high-pitched wail, then only sobbing. The scent of urine reached my nose, and I stepped closer to the door.

Finn joined me. “I’ve arranged medical. You’ll be met at the hospital.”

I looked down at Autumn, a quivering mass of fear in my arms. She was battered and bruised and so emotionally destroyed I was fearful. I had no idea what she had been through, and part of me was scared to know. “Thanks,” I murmured.

“What do you want done?”

I wanted to kill him. Carefully. Methodically. Make him feel pain so bad he begged to die. Except Autumn needed me more than I needed revenge. And right now, I had no stomach for murder.

“I’ll leave it to you.”

He nodded. “Right.”

I headed to the door, ready to walk away, when the fecker began to shout, reaching and clawing his way toward us, his legs useless. “No! She’s mine. I want⁠—”

I turned and, with one fast, violent kick, silenced him. His head snapped back hard as teeth, blood, and spit erupted in an arc from his stupid gob. “Shut yer face, you stupid fecker. She was never yours and never would be.”

“Oh sure, yer rugby days have come in handy,” Niall said with a dark chuckle. “Nice kick.”

The arsehole stared at me, his mouth open, blood pouring down his chin. He couldn’t talk, and I was glad for that. But I had something to say.

“Remember this—when you’re writhing in hell for all eternity, I’ll be loving her. Living a life we create together. One that holds no memory of you. This world will never remember you. You lost, fecker. I have her. And I always will.”

And I walked out, leaving him to his fate.

AUTUMN

There were sights and sounds all around me. Lights that were too bright, noises that hurt my ears. The one comforting thing that kept me from losing it was taken away. Strong arms that held me tight, a steady thump-thump-thump beat under my ear, disappeared. I cried out, seeking, terrified. Those arms and that sound meant I was safe.

I began to cry. Scalding hot tears poured down my cheeks, and I tried in vain to get back to that safety. I heard yelling and cursing, and then a voice was in my ear.

“I’m right here, mo fhiadh beag. I’m not leaving you. I’ll hold your hand, but we need to let them help you. You’re safe. I promise, love. You’re safe.”

“Sully,” I whimpered.

“Yes. It’s your Sully. I’m right here.”

I let his scent wash over me, and I drifted off, the blackness welcome.

Consciousness came again, gradually, easing me from the dark. Feminine voices were speaking. Male voices spoke in low tones. The pain was still there, but not as intense. I searched my mind, wondering where I was. What had happened. I felt pressure on my hands, and a voice—one I loved—spoke.

“Come back to me, mo fhiadh beag. I’m waiting. I need you.”

I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to cooperate. I wanted to lift my hand, to reach out to that voice, but it was too heavy. I felt so tired. It was too hard. I sighed and let sleep take me away again.

The next time I woke, I opened my eyes. The room around me was strange and unfamiliar. My eyes ached and felt like sandpaper. My body wasn’t my own. It was achy and sore. I blinked and moved my head a little, turning it toward the odd sound, seeing medical equipment. I traced one machine down to an IV in my arm.

I realized I was in the hospital. I glanced to the other side, wondering about the weight I felt. A dark head of hair was pressed into my side, a heavy arm stretched across my torso, holding me. Keeping me safe.

Sully.

He was asleep, his face turned toward me. Even asleep, I could see the exhaustion etched in his skin. He was frowning, the lines around his mouth deep. He was drained, unkempt, but the most welcome sight I had ever seen.

For a moment, I was confused, and then it all hit me.