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“Actually—”
“Hey!” Collins rushes down the alley, dressed in blue scrubs. Her reddish-brown curls pile on top of her head, and her brow shines with sweat. “I’ve got it.”
“Finally,” Maeve mutters, taking a small vial. At my raised brow, she gestures to my jacket. “Hold on to it. It’ll save your life.”
The glass jar is a little thing with a seal on top. The hospital label has been peeled off.
“Does this have anything to do with the super illegal liquid in my pocket you asked me to get?” I raise a brow, but Maeve keeps her face neutral. Right. She won’t admit to shit if it has to be a lie. That’s just who she is.
Collins fixes my sweatshirt, brushing back my bangs under my hood. “Listen to me,” she instructs. “You have an hour after the initial dose to take this.” She taps the bottle. “If you don’t take it within that time, I don’t know if we’ll be able to bring you back.”
Her green eyes flash with a flicker of lightning, worry clashing with anxiety. Glancing over to Maeve, she chews her inner cheek, body tight with tension. They’re both scared of what could happen—but it’s a good plan.
If this works, I’ll be free of the bounty. Valentina will no longer be in danger. We’ll have the life we both deserve—I have to chance it.
“I’ll be fine.”
Then I hand it to Maeve. Her eyes widen in alarm, mouth parting.
“What are you—”
“I trust you,” I interrupt. “I know you’ll take care of me. Like you’ve always done. Like you’ve done for all of us. You’ll bring me back.”
Collins hands a syringe to Maeve, expression serious. “No more than sixty minutes. His breathing will be almost nonexistent, his pulse too slow to detect through touch. But once his veins start appearing,” she explains, gesturing to her arms, “dark lines. You’ll know you’re running out of time. Once you see that, you have seconds to administer the shot.
“Don’t let our brother die.”
Maeve swallows thickly, eyes wide. “I won’t.”
Slinging an arm over both of them, I squeeze them to my side. Collins returns the hug, patting me on the back. Maeve grips the front of my sweatshirt, anchoring her to me like the protector she is.
“You’ll be fine,” she whispers, a vow. “I promise.”
“I know.” It’s the easiest decision to trust Maeve.
Collins steps back, patting my chest. “I’ll see when your shift is over. First light. Right?”
“Right.”
We separate at the mouth of the alley, Collins returning to her routine. We turn down the sidewalk, exit the parking lot, and back onto a main road. At the far end, a dark sedan waits, with Lex and Killian standing there. Lex stares at his phone while Killian puffs on a cigarette.
Both of them are grim and determined.
Except me. I pull out my phone again and inhale, watching the car enter the Bruno compound.
“We only have to get through this,” Maeve says, voice low. “Then it’s done. You can start living again.”
Living. No longer hiding from hitmen. No longer thriving in the shadows, watching my sisters grow older and love. No longer an outsider, but a part of the clan. A true O’Brien son.
Killian throws the spent butt, smoke drifting from his nose and mouth. “You ready?”
No. “Yep. Let’s go kill me.”
Lex slides his phone into his suit pants pocket, gloved hands matching his outfit. Everyone is dressed in black, mourning a loss that hasn’t happened.
“Your friend did it. Everyone is descending on Boston to find you. There are a lot of messages and notes. Where you’ll be, rules of engagement. You’re famous.”
Nodding, I say, “Gabe was pretty happy to kill me. Figuratively speaking.”
