Page 288 of A Song for You

Sleep dogs her as she examines me with tired eyes. “What?”

“We don’t have time,” Frank says, snagging her around the waist.

She pushes back against him, clinging to me. “What’s happening?”

“Frank’s brother. He found us.” I turn to the door as another round of pounding starts up. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her eyes well with tears and she clutches my shirt. “I’m scared.”

“I know, baby⁠—”

The banging sounds again. This time followed by an Irish curse. “Get ye arse to the door!”

“Motherfucker,” Frank mutters. “The man fakes a damn accent now, like he’s a fucking leprechaun.”

“Kitten, you need to hide. Please,” I beg.

She finally seems to come to her senses, and fear plagues her eyes. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she grabs my face and kisses me. “Please don’t die,” she whispers.

Locking eyes with her, I brush my thumb over her cheek, then plant one last kiss to her lips. “I love you. Only you.”

“Completely, irrevocably, head over fucking heels,” she whispers.

Then Frank drags her off the bed and straight to the closet. Once the closet door shuts quietly behind them, I straighten my suit jacket, stand, and holler to the man who is once again banging on the door. “Hold your fucking horses. I’m coming!”

I swing the door open and have to jump back to avoid being trampled by the deranged Irishman with wild eyes who looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I growl, switching roles almost seamlessly.

The stench of whiskey wafts from him as he stomps past me, glowering. “You answer when I knock, Hanson.”

“The fuck I do,” I toss back. “Debt was paid, remember? I made you.”

I should have put a hole in this asshole’s head months ago.

He laughs. “Funny thing about that. Know what I heard? I heard you’ve been playing us all along. Catherine James is the one who stole the money.” He cocks a brow and pauses for dramatic effect. “Oh. I forgot. She goes by Catherine Hanson now, right?”

“You know exactly who she is,” I growl. “Say my wife’s name again, and I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Evan holds up his palms. “Calm ye arse down. I’m sure there’s a deal to be made here.”

“Of course it’s about money. It’s always about money,” I grumble.

He smirks.

I stalk toward the small table next to the bed. “How much will this cost me?”

No amount of money will ever be enough. If I allow a man like Evan McCabe to walk out of here alive, he’ll always be a threat to my family.

The click of a bullet slipping into the chamber draws my attention back to the insane man.

“Not so quick,” he mutters. “I’m not an idiot.”

My heart pounds against my ribs, but I force out a laugh. “You really are,” I say as I grip the weapon in the drawer, praying I can get a shot off before I drop.

This isn’t about bargaining for my life. Mine is done. This is as far as I go. But protecting Cat? That will be the last thing I do.

When I spin, a deafening shot rings out, and pain almost as sharp as I felt the day I walked away from Cat radiates through my leg.