They slammed to a stop in the ER entranceway. Someone must have called ahead, because there was a pair of nurses and a stretcher waiting. The men took Cillian from the backseat and strapped him into the stretcher, and then they were gone, rushing through the door and spitting medical jargon back and forth.
“It will be okay.”
She glanced at Callie, taking in how pale the other woman was. “I hope so.”
This hospital had to hold terrified memories for her sister-in-law, too. She’d been the one to save Teague before. Carrigan followed her though the corridors to the appropriate waiting room. It looked like a thousand other waiting rooms across the US. And probably the world, too. She sank into the faded chair. “This is all my fault.”
“Cillian made his own decisions. He knew the risks.” Callie sat next to her. “He’s going to live.”
As much as she craved the words, she couldn’t trust them. “He got shot because of me.”
“No, he got shot because Dmitri Romanov called for James’s death.” Callie’s smile barely twitched her lips. “I seem to remember having a similar conversation a few months ago.”
The one where Carrigan had told Callie that the war escalating would have happened one way or another, even if she hadn’t killed Brendan Halloran. She scrubbed her hand over her face. “Guilt is such a sticky emotion.”
“Tell me about it.” Callie’s phone rang again. “Yes? You’re sure? Thanks, Micah.” She hung up. “Romanov is gone. I’m not sure when, but his hotel room is empty, and he’s nowhere to be found.”
It was tempting to think he was gone for good, but Carrigan knew better. “He’ll be back.” Dmitri wasn’t the kind of man to take defeat lying down, and he’d lost twice now. Carrigan wasn’t marrying him, and James was still alive. She slumped down into her chair. “This isn’t over.”
“Probably not.” Callie’s blue eyes were harder than she’d ever seen them. “But now we know he’s an enemy. He can’t play at being an ally while stabbing us in the back. That’s something.” Maybe. But it wouldn’t be enough. It had taken her all of ten seconds to realize how dangerous Dmitri was, and Carrigan had the feeling that the knowledge was just a drop in an ocean.
He’d be back, and he’d be back for blood.
Chapter Twenty-Five
James sat on the snow-covered pavement next to his little brother for a long time. Ricky wouldn’t be getting up again. The blow to his head from Michael had killed him. Maybe if they’d been more focused on getting him to a hospital…There were a lot of maybes circling his head right now, and they weren’t doing him any favors.
Both brothers, gone.
He was well and truly alone now.
“Mr. Halloran.”
He looked up. The Sheridan men stood around him in a staggered formation, half of them turned to face any potential outside threat. The black man speaking looked barely in his mid-twenties, but he seemed more than capable of taking care of business. James just wanted him to go away. He shook his head. That wasn’t right. He had to get the fuck out of here. It was a fucking miracle they hadn’t brought any cops down upon themselves until now. He reached out and stopped just short of touching Ricky’s face. “How long have I been sitting here?”
The man looked away. “We can transport your brother for you. What do you want to do with your man?”
His gaze fell to Michael, trussed up and gagged. He’d tried to make a run for it in the middle of the confusion, but Callista’s men had found and retrieved him. “He’s not my man anymore. Bring him. He has a lot to answer for.” Though he doubted Michael had much in the way of information, he couldn’t finish the man off until he knew for sure.
James climbed to his feet, feeling decades older. “Carrigan?”
“She’s at the hospital with her brother—it looks like he might be okay.”
She was safe—or as safe as anyone could be. He nodded. “Good.” He wanted to go to her, to hear her tell him she loved him again, to hold her in his arms and never let go. But there was shit he had to deal with before he could. First order of business was getting these women cared for. He went around to the van and found his phone on the floorboard. A few minutes later, Lisa Marie came on the line. “What do you need, honey?”
“A place for twenty girls. They aren’t going to be able to answer questions until they’re sure they’re safe.”
“Are they safe?”
He listened to soft sobbing coming from the back of the van. “As safe as I can make them. They’ll have their freedom, one way or another.”