Untitled Book 2(61)

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, I’m downstairs, sitting in the den with Vinnie and Sin. Both of them seem on edge, and it’s making me nervous. The sun has just gone down, leaving an almost eerie feeling, like we were all just waiting for something to go wrong.

 

“What is it?” I ask softly, looking between the two men.

 

When I hear a noise coming from the front door, I instantly stand. Vinnie grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen, where he looks out the back door.

 

“They’re here,” Sin announces, pulling his gun out. “You ready for this, brother?”

 

“I was born ready,” Vinnie replies, pulling out his phone and barking into it, “Now.”

 

Irish suddenly appears at the back door out of nowhere, and Vinnie quickly lets him in.

 

“There are six men,” he says, looking at me. “The back exit is secure. I can get her out, and then I’ll come back for you.”

 

“Wait, what?” I ask, looking straight to Vinnie. “What are you going to do?”

 

“No time, Shay,” he says, gripping my face and giving me a hard kiss. “Go with Irish, and do as he says, now.”

 

Irish grabs my wrist, but my eyes are still pleading with Vinnie. “I don’t like not knowing what you’re planning. If anything happens to you . . . to any of you . . . Vinnie, just leave with me, now.”

 

He doesn’t even look at me this time, just says, “Irish, take her. They’re going to be inside any second.”

 

Irish grabs me, and I let him. I don’t need to make this any harder on them, but at the same time I want to rage and scream. He didn’t tell me anything! He left me in the dark, and in this moment, I hate him for it. I just hope he doesn’t get hurt, I pray that he doesn’t. And Sin—he can’t get hurt. He’s a father, with another baby on the way. I wish I knew how they planned to get out of this safely.

 

Irish takes me outside, where a car I’ve never seen before is parked in back. I have to say though, when he puts me in the trunk, that’s not exactly how I expected his saving me to go.

 

* * *

 

He opens the trunk about ten minutes later, but still, it was fucking terrifying in there.

 

“I’m going to kill you,” I tell him, gasping for air. Luckily I’m not claustrophobic, but still, holy shit.

 

“Sorry, darlin’,” he says, checking over me. “We didn’t have any other choice. I had to make sure anyone watching only saw me in the car. You all right?”

 

“I’m alive,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself. “Where are we?”

 

I look around. We were parked in front of a large, old-looking house. Irish leads me to the front yard, which overlooks streets of houses. The house was high up on a hill, so you can easily see everything below. He points, and I instantly know what he’s pointing at.

 

“My house,” I say, squinting to try to see. “You need to tell me what the plan is, Irish, please, because I’m freaking the fuck out here.”

 

I hate the sympathetic look that flashes across his face. No, it wasn’t sympathy—it was pity, which is a million times worse.

 

A flash of red catches my eye.

 

I turn back to my house and watch in absolute shock and horror as it explodes.

 

All I see is fire and smoke, all I feel is my heart racing, fear and shock.

 

“Where’re Vinnie and Sin?” I ask, sounding hysterical.

 

I can’t breathe, feeling like I was stuck down there, in the smoke and burning rubble.

 

“Shay, calm down, they’re both fine,” Irish says, his accent becoming more pronounced. “Breathe, woman, you’re hyperventilating.”

 

Breathe?

 

I can’t breathe.

 

Then all I see is black.

 

 

 

 

 

THIRTY-THREE

 

 

“SHAY?” I hear Vinnie say over and over again, gently tapping my cheek. I open my eyes, feeling groggy, like one would after a weekend of binge drinking and waking up after only an hour’s sleep.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Wake up, babe,” he says, sounding worried. “Look at me.”

 

I look into concerned, familiar brown eyes.

 

“There you are,” he whispers, pushing my hair out of my face. “Irish said you fainted on him . . . that doesn’t sound like something my stubborn woman would do.”

 

I force myself to sit up and glance around. We’re in a moving car, with Irish driving.

 

“What happened?” I ask as everything hits me. “My house blew up.” I slap his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me anything! You had everything planned, didn’t you?”