I’m not sure how long these fuckers have had me here, tied to this damn chair, but it feels like forever. And not because one of them thinks he’s the next Conor fucking McGregor and gets hard off sucker punching me every time he comes in the room. Nah, he’ll get his. It feels like forever because I’m worried about my girl. This is a lot of stress for one person to take on. She’s a warrior, my warrior Princess, but this is life or death shit and she’s pregnant. My brothers and Reggie will help her, but I also know Frankie and that she’s carrying the weight of this and won’t rest until she wins the war.
“Rise and shine, bud. Time to call yer bleedin’ bird. Best hope she listened and didn’t call the coppers,” O’Reilly warns. “I would love to finish what I started at her gaff. Make ya watch before I kill ya both,” he cackles.
I spit at his feet, the stream of blood hitting its mark, leaving a coppery stain. “You keep me tied up because you know I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t. Be a man. Untie me and then say some shit like that, yeah?” I snarl.
We’re interrupted by Kiernan followed by the aspiring McGregor himself. Living up to my expectations, he walks straight up to me and smiles, just before delivering a solid right hook that connects with my nose, blood spurting instantly. He chuckles gleefully.
“Hard to look rough and tough when yer nose is broken and yer covered in blood,” he chortles.
“Even harder to look like a badass when the only way you can break someone’s nose is if their arms and legs are tied to a chair.” I smile at him, the blood dripping down my face and off my chin. It’s not the first time I’ve broken my nose and it definitely won’t be the last. These hits are nothing I’m not used to. This is simply training for me.
“Fuck you, you bleedin’ arsehole!” he shouts, kicking the legs of the chair, trying to topple me but not succeeding. I laugh at his failed attempt. I shouldn’t goad them, I know, but I can’t help it. This little motherfucker is begging for an ass whippin.’ He better pray that they keep me tied up while he’s around.
“For fuck sake, are ya done now, Rayo?” Kiernan asks the young punk in disgust. “If yer looking for a pissin’ contest, look somewhere else. I don’t have the bleedin’ time to scrape ya off the ground when he’s done with ya.” He shakes his head. “I wanna get what we came here for and get back to The Pale. I don’ have time for yer bleedin’ shenanigans.
Turning to me, “I apologize for me brother. He fancies himself a fighter. Boys a bleedin’ spanner,” he says in a bored tone. “You would do well to be nice to the man, Rayo—he’s probably mates with your idol,” Kiernan calls over his shoulder, snickering.
I look over to where the fucker stands sulking. His brother obviously has the same thoughts about his aspirations as I do. Spitting in his direction to clear my mouth of blood, I smile, “He’s no McGregor. He hits like a pussy.” Incensed, he rushes forward, but Kiernan catches him up before he can get to me. “That’ll be enough, ya eejit. I can’t have you manglin’ him anymore than ya have.” Setting him aside, he turns to me. “Ya ready to call your bird? Hopefully she’s come through or else I’ll let me brother here have at ya,” Kiernan tells me cheerily. “Ya keep changing the bleedin’ digits on us so I can’t dial her, the fuckin’ cheek of ya,” he tsks. “Best be giving it to me so we can call her up.”
Eyes narrowed, I recite my own telephone number to him and listen to it ring when he switches it over to speaker. My fingers are throbbing from how tightly the ropes are tied, my feet have long since gone numb, and my shoulder is a constant ache from the bullet most likely still lodged there. They were kind enough to pour whiskey over that to make sure it didn’t get infected once they got me strapped to the chair yesterday. Upset with my unwillingness to cooperate, they’d pistol whipped me and trussed me up while I was unconscious. None of that matters though because Frankie is safe.
Sonny picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”
I look at Kiernan, waiting for instruction. He lifts his chin in my direction, indicating for me to go ahead.
“Sonny, it’s me. Can you hear me? Put the Princess on for me.”
“Hey, brother, I hear you. Are you okay?” Jameson asks, the worry evident in his voice.
“Yeah, bro, I’m good. Getting a little bit of training in with this kid who doesn’t like my face too much,” I try to joke, glancing at Kiernan when he kicks at my ankle, motioning with his hand to move it along. “Sonny, is Frankie there? They want to speak to her.”
“Yeah, she was afraid to answer. She’s right here beside me, Deac.”
“D—Deacon?” she stammers in a raw voice.
“I’m here, baby. You doing okay? The baby?”
“Yes, we’re fine.” Her voice cracks and I just want to reach through the phone and hold her.
“That’s enough of the chatter. Did youz find what we’re lookin’ for, darlin’?” Kiernan asks. “Better be sayin’ yeah, otherwise yer fella here is gonna get battered.”
“No! Don’t hurt him. Please. I found something that was hidden, a memory card. I didn’t look at it. Andrew had it well hidden though so it must be what you’re after,” she rushes to say.
“Good, good. You meet us at the lake where we picked ya up in an hour. Come alone and if in fact you have what I think ya do, I’ll hand over yer fella.”
“Frankie, don’t you dare come alone! You bring Reggie and my broth—oomph.” I’m knocked stupid with the butt of a gun, my head lolling forward, skull feeling as if it’s on the verge of exploding.
“You bring the law and I’ll flat line ya both quick as ya please. Don’ be testin’ me, darlin’. One hour, not a minute past,” he orders and disconnects the call.
“Yer a fuckin’ eejit. Tryin’ to get yer lady killed I reckon. You better hope that she’s smarter than you are.”
Arms zip-tied behind me, pulling at my shoulder, I wince as we drive over the uneven dirt road that leads out to the lake. They didn’t bother trying to clean my face of all the blood; I’m sure I look like I just went three rounds in the Cage. As we come into the clearing, the SUV rocks to a halt, the engine idling as the three other vehicles following pull up beside us. Across from us, I see my Rover parked, but can’t see who’s in it, the glare from the sun shielding the tinted windows.
Kiernan is sitting in the front seat, same as when we left this peaceful place just a little over twenty-four hours ago. He turns to me, gun in hand, “Now don’ be goin’ doin’ anythin’ stupid. Me mate will check the card that yer bird has and if it’s good, we’ll cut ya loose. Ya go actin’ mad though and I’ll fuckin’ shoot ya right between your fuckin’ eyes and piss off to The Pale without a care.” I nod my understanding and follow the burly fucker they brought along out of the backseat. I don’t believe for a second that they’re going to let us just leave after this transaction is done. They’re the fucking mob—they don’t make deals. They dig shallow graves.
I straighten to my full height, my feet set in anticipation. I have no clue what to expect, no idea how this is gonna play out, but I need to be ready for shit to get real . . . and quick. Doing my best to get my blood-matted hair out of my face, I give my head a shake, ignoring the pain that rockets around my skull. It takes a second for my vision to clear and my eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. When they do, I see Frankie, my brothers, and Reggie all standing beside the Range Rover. Frankie still has on her clothes from the day before, her hair a messy bun on top of her head.
I’m prodded into motion by Wannabe McGregor and his Glock digging into my spine. “Let’s go, bud.”
As we close in on them, I see the anger on my brothers’ faces, anguish on my girl’s. Reggie’s mask is in place; he’s in “mission” mode. I try to smile reassuringly at Frankie, but I can’t quite pull it off. My gut is screaming at me to act. To start doing harm any way that I can and run like hell with my girl. Making eye contact with Reggie, it’s clear that he’s thinking the same thing. He nods imperceptibly. Just that one signal and I know that no matter what he’ll put Frankie and her safety first.
Kiernan stops and holds up a hand for them to do the same. “That’s far enough. Where’s this chip ya have?” When Reggie steps forward to give it to him, every one of Kiernan’s goons raises their arms, guns cocked. He shakes his head. “I don’t think so, big fella. Hand it over to the lady and stay where ya are.” Reggie stands where he is, the indecision flitting across his face. Frankie makes the decision for him when she moves around him, both of my brothers directly behind her. Watching her every movement, I feel every one of my muscles tensing, readying for battle just like before a fight. She reaches Reggie’s side and takes the card from him, and with a hand cradled under her swollen belly, walks to the devil himself.
“Such a brave girl ya are,” Kiernan says as she nears him, arm outstretched with the tiny little chip pinched between her fingers. It’s all surreal and in slow motion with the birds chirping happily in the background, the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore. All so serene and peaceful. Such a lie.
Kiernan takes her offering and hands it off to O’Reilly. As he turns back to Frankie, he draws his weapon. “Brave or just stupid, just like yer dead fella.” Stock still, I watch in horror as Kiernan points his Glock at Frankie’s head. At that moment, I don’t think, I just act. Stomping on the foot of the asshole behind me, I throw my head back with all of my strength and connect with his face. Cursing, he drops to the ground, writhing in pain. A cacophony of yells and screams fill the air right before shots ring out and echo all around us Not sure where they’re coming from, I barrel my way through mobsters with guns to my girl, noticing that the clearing is now full of cops, all adding to the melee. With Frankie in my sights, I wade through the chaos. Just as I near her, I see a flash out of the corner of my eye. I turn to see Kiernan, the sun glinting off the muzzle of his gun, a smile of pure evil across his face as he pulls the trigger. I flinch with each shot.
One. My heart stops beating. Two. I’m frozen in terror. Three. I lunge toward the mad man set on taking everything from me. Four. I tackle him to the ground, my arms still tied behind me, his weapon flying from his murdering hands at the impact. The birds now squawking in panic as I throw all of my weight on him. Screaming Frankie’s name over and over, no way to stop it as it echo’s in my ears, invading every space in my mind, I pin him to the ground with my body, heavy with the adrenaline running through my veins. I’m just about to slam my head into his face, just like I did to his brother, when I’m hauled up by the arm, but not before I get in two swift kicks to his head and one to his ribs as I’m dragged away.
“Deacon, it’s Detective Adams. Please, stay still, let me cut your restraints,” I recognize her voice as thick arms hold me steady. Stilling, I allow her to free me. Once my hands are unbound, the arms holding me loosen and I drop to my knees. Not allowing myself time to recover from what just took place, I stand and start searching frantically. Calling out for Frankie and my brothers, pushing my way through the hoards of people now clogging the banks of the lake. I see Reggie crouched down covered in blood and come to an abrupt halt. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” Over and over, falls from my lips as I take in the scene in front of me.
Sliding across the grass and sand, I scramble to where Reggie sits. The guttural sounds coming from me rip from my very soul. How? How will I ever learn to live without the one person who believed in me the most? Loved me at my worst? Who I love more than I love myself?
I won’t.
I can’t.
I fucking won’t.