Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
There must have been something on her face, because he stopped on the stairs. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation. He might look like a near-stranger right now, but this was still the man who she’d spent the last few weeks getting to know. He might be an O’Malley, but that wasn’t all he was. She just had to remember that.
Cillian nodded. “Then let’s go.”
She followed him out the back door. He hesitated, almost like he wanted to tell her to stay in the house, but then gave himself a shake and started for the tree line. She kept close, all too aware of how exposed they were out here. Yes, he kept his body between her and potential danger, but that wasn’t a guarantee of shit.
They found the second body propped up against a large tree just inside the forest. She made herself look at the wounds, made herself memorize the face of the man who’d died while on protection detail for her. She was so focused on his face, it took her several seconds to understand the wound pattern. “Knife?” Sergei. That bastard always had liked his blades—at least when it wasn’t efficient to use his hands.
“It looks that way.” He stood and took a step back. “I’m going to have to move the bodies, but we need to check on the others first.” He waited for her to nod before he started moving again.
They found the next man alive. Cillian went to his knees next to him. “Mark.”
“Fucked up.” The man held both his hands to his stomach. “The blond Russian bastard caught me off guard.”
There was no way she could pretend Sergei wasn’t involved. Her stomach lurched, and for one second she thought she might lose it completely. “I’m sorry.”
“My mistake. My fault.”
But he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.
Cillian looked at her. “Can you get him to the barn? I need to check on the last two men.”
She nodded, and they ignored Mark’s protests that he would be fine while she levered him off the ground and wedged herself beneath his arm. He didn’t seem to be actively bleeding, which was a relief. She already had the deaths of at least two men on her head. The trip to the barn seemed to take forever, each step accompanied by Mark’s wheezing breath. She started to say something half a dozen times, but what could she say that wouldn’t be spitting in his face? “I’m sorry.”
She pushed the door open to the barn and helped him hobble over to a bench shoved up against the wall next to the empty stables. Mark let out a pained sigh. “Like I said—not your fault.”
“Do you want me to check that?”
He shook his head. “If it hit something vital, I’d be dead by now.”
That was a good point. She looked around for a phone. “We should call 911.”
“Olivia.” The shock of hearing him rasp her name stopped her cold, and she turned to face him. Mark leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Let Cillian handle it.”
Cillian slipped through the door, supporting another man. This one was a ghastly shade of white and looked about ready to pass out. Olivia helped him to the bench next to Mark. “You have to call someone.”
“Doc Jones has a colleague in the area. She’s on her way, but the guy she vouches for will be here in fifteen.” He crouched in front of Mark. “Can you hold on for a little longer? The other three…They’re gone. I’m sorry. I have to see to the bodies.”
Mark nodded. Cillian took Olivia’s hand. “Come on.” He waited until they were halfway across the yard to say, “We’re going back to Boston.”
“Dmitri.” He would be there in a few hours, and he was the one who held the answers. She rested her hand on her purse, the comforting bulge of the pistol there. Every heartbeat was a reminder, each second ticking by another where her daughter might be wondering where she was, might be scared and confused. Hadley, Hadley, Hadley. She’d find her. She had to.
Cillian nodded. “He has a lot to answer for. Hadley’s your daughter, just a little girl. She didn’t ask for any of this.” He stalked out onto the driveway. “And those were my men. The only reason they’re here at all is because I asked them to be.”
Three more deaths for him to shoulder. There wasn’t a damn thing she could say to that, either. They might have known the risk when they signed on to work for the O’Malleys, but no one had expected Sergei. Those deaths are as much my fault as they are his. She followed him to the car. “We both asked them.”
“This isn’t your fault, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “Give me a minute.”