I woke up Monday morning, one giant ache, as Finnegan shifted closer behind me and kissed my neck.

“Hold your horse peen,” I croaked. “We agreed to rest today.”

He laughed silently against my skin and cupped my breast. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Yes, about two hours ago when he’d woken me up for another round of sex. Or maybe I’d woken him; that was beside the point. That whole area between my legs was now off-limits for a day or two.

The stinging pain as he stretched me was bizarrely hot and turned me on like nothing else, but I just couldn’t.

“I’m gonna let you rest.” He kissed my hair, which no doubt looked like a bird’s nest. “I got a message from Patrick, and I have to go to my office for a bit.”

I frowned and scrubbed the sleep from my face, then twisted my body to look at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded and pressed his lips to my forehead. “He received some weird call from Chicago—nothing to worry about. I’ll meet you guys at the restaurant.”

I was too tired to worry, and honestly, excited to have the shower to myself, so I kissed him back and told him to be careful.

The next time I woke up, I was alone, and I walked unsteadily into the bathroom.

Ouch.

I squinted at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a freaking mess.

The happiness in my eyes was unmistakable, though.

Yesterday, we’d gotten everything we wanted. A whole day of nobody disturbing us. Food from the wedding, lots of cake and pastries, and even more sex. As a joke, we’d made a list of spots in the condo to christen, and we’d ticked off a few boxes.

The one thing we were supposed to do was pack, which we hadn’t. I’d have to do that after brunch. Our weddings gifts were arriving today too… So much to do, so little time.

With one of two insatiable newlyweds missing, there was no cock-y surprise for me in the shower. I took my time and used all the organic products I could find that promised to be nice to my skin.

Aloe and shea butter were my friends.

When I was finished, I found myself in our closet picking out the softest clothes. Cotton panties, a bra without underwire. How the fuck had I gotten pinch marks everywh—never mind. The insides of my thighs were a scruff burn party, so I went with a pair of capri-length leggings. All the cotton. Soft, soft cotton. I borrowed one of Finnegan’s button-downs and turned it into a short dress with a belt around my middle.

My hair went up in a haphazard bun.

As I did my makeup, I sent Finnegan a text.

I married an abusive Irish boy. I have marks everywhere! xo

I finished applying the eyeliner and saw he’d replied.

Four guys pointed out the bite marks on my neck, and my back looks like a scratching post for cats. Takes an abuser to know one, kitten shit. ;)

I snickered to myself. “Good times.”

Sarah knocked on the door shortly after, and I let her in, surprised to see one of Finnegan’s guys right outside the door.

“Um, hi. Can I help you?” I asked.

“No, ma’am. Finnegan and Patrick are just taking some precautions,” he replied.

“There’s one outside our door too,” Sarah said. “Patrick said I had nothing to worry about, though.”

Uh-huh. I’d heard that before.

Well, we had heaps of leftovers in the fridge that were going to go bad while we were away, so I might as well make myself useful. We had some time before brunch, and these boys had to eat at some point.

“So…?” Sarah stared at me expectantly and followed me to the kitchen. “This is where you tell me everything.”

I chuckled and opened the fridge. “My body is a wonderland of scruff burns and handprints.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “You guys went rough, huh? Patrick’s already told me Finnegan looks like a mess, and I know what Luna gave you at the wedding.”

Oh God. “Shut up.” I shook my head in amusement and got out the fixings to make a bunch of hoagies and sandwiches. For the record, we hadn’t opened that book yet. “Help me empty our fridge instead—and tell me what you guys did yesterday.”

As far as I knew, the only contact Finnegan had with the outside world yesterday was when he arranged a quick party for those who’d worked the wedding. All the leftover booze and snacks had been delivered to Mick’s pub. I’d suggested sending over a few strippers too, to which I’d earned a WTF-look from my husband.

What? Boys liked strippers.

“We went to Mick’s for a little while. Not much else.” She shrugged. “The so-called important people flew back to Chicago, so we had to see them off—or a few of them.”

I nodded and rolled up the sleeves of my makeshift dress, then got busy filling bread with leftover lamb, gravy, vegetables, and cheese. We had some salmon and turkey too that we used up with the last of the bread.

“Excited about the honeymoon?” she asked, wrapping the hoagies. I followed her with a Sharpie, writing down what meat was in them.

“So much, and I don’t even know where we’re going.” All I knew was to pack for the beach and the bedroom, in the words of Finnegan.

“It’s like you still work at the diner, hon,” she chuckled.

I capped the marker and stuck my tongue out at her.

With close to a dozen lunches, I picked one of my bigger purses and only needed one paper bag for the ones that didn’t fit. Then I received a message from Grace, saying they were almost here, so it was time to go.

“Christ, look at you, Em,” Sarah laughed softly. “Are you already pregnant?”

“What’re you talking about?” I got my phone, keys, and wallet and left the condo. The dude was still there. “Hi again. Lamb, salmon, or turkey? Just pick a favorite.”

He was understandably confused. “Uh, turkey, I guess?”

I dug out a turkey sandwich for him. “Lunch.”

His mouth twitched. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Shea.”

Oh…that was me now. Wow. That was going to take some getting used to.

I couldn’t shake the giddiness of it all.

Sarah and I went into the elevator, and she picked up the conversation again, noting that I was “glowing” and literally mothering street thugs.

I brushed it off, because my brain couldn’t handle that topic now. I didn’t see them as thugs, and I knew I used to. I was supposed to. These days, I saw security, men with families, sons, and friends of Finnegan.

I was fucked.

I’d always liked taking care of people. The difference was, I hadn’t had a choice before.

“I’m definitely not pregnant,” I settled for saying.

We paused on the ground floor to hand out more lunches and to say hi to Olivier at the front desk. I left a few sandwiches with him for when other lurking Sons stepped out of the shadows to take a break or whatever.

Sarah and I became the sandwich saviors, dubbed by a guy only a year or two older than us, who looked hungover. Probably from last night.

By the time we reached the garage, there were two left.

“Mornin’, darlin’.” Colm opened the door for us with a charming grin, making me giggle. If I lifted his shades, I bet I’d see how hungover he was too. “How are ya?”

“Better than you, I think.” I opened my bag and retrieved the last two hoagies. Conn was seated on the passenger’s side, and he barely managed a two-finger wave.

“Jaysus—you’re a godsend, Emilia. Cheers.”

“The other one is for your brother.”

“We’ll see about that.” He smirked tiredly.

I chuckled and slipped into the car. “Hi, brunch people.” I got settled in one of the two empty seats. Sarah ended up next to me, leaving Grace and Ian across from us. “Where’s Shan?”

“He’ll meet us at the restaurant.” Grace wore the same smile she’d donned at the wedding. It was as if she couldn’t shake it. “How’s married life?”

“Blissful so far,” I laughed. “I hope the trouble doesn’t begin until after the honeymoon.”

“You never know in this family,” Ian replied with a wry smile. “Has Finn spilled the beans about where you’re going yet?”

I shook my head. “The man is a vault.” I didn’t mind the surprise, to be honest. It was going to be a good one. “I might bribe Sarah over to help me pack.”

“Because it takes two to pack a dozen bikinis and a Kama Sutra book,” Sarah teased.

“You—!” I slapped her arm, mortified. “We’re not bringing that!” We were totally bringing that, but there was no need to let Finnegan’s mother know.

Grace and Ian merely laughed.

I slumped back in my seat and huffed. Outside my window, the streets of Philadelphia were relatively empty, given the hour. Tourists and some people who weren’t working took their time going wherever they were off to. And I was sitting here in an armored limo. How quickly life could change.

“I asked Finnegan how long we’d be driving around in these tanks, and he said there’s no expiration date on his worry.”

“That sounds like Finn.” Grace’s eyes shone with as much amusement as fondness. “It’s better we just enjoy the pampering for a while.”

I guess so.

“Plus, there’s nothing like disappointing the good people of Philly every time we leave the car,” Sarah said. “I swear, I see someone eyeing me curiously then shrugging when they don’t recognize me.”

“I know!” I’d thought it was just me! “You always expect someone famous to be inside a limo. And then it’s only us.”

The partition behind me was lowered, and Colm spoke with his mouth full of food, causing his accent to come out thicker. “I’ll drop you at the next light. Conn will escort you inside, and I’ll be there after finding parking if that’s all right.”

“That sounds great, dearie,” Grace said.

We waited in comfortable silence until the car slowed down again, just in time for the light to turn yellow. Grace was scolded by Ian for opening the door herself.

“You men, I swear.” She sighed and pretended to be a good girl. I stifled a grin, and she waited for Conn to round the car and open the door farther. “Oh, so it’s okay to come out now?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mirth seeped into Conn’s voice, and he helped her out of the car.

Ian scooted closer to exit next.

A weird popping sound went off, and I glanced outside. For such a low sound, it had a sharp echo that flew between the buildings. Then it sounded again—pop, pop, pop, pop, pop—and whatever it was, it catapulted the men into action. I grew rigid in my seat as Ian threw himself out of the car; Conn shouted for his brother, who was out of the driver’s seat already. Sarah’s nails dug into my arm. Someone screamed, the sound shrill and packed with agony.

“Conn, no!” The booming voice belonged to Colm.

“Oh my God,” Sarah breathed.

The shock and confusion had me in a vise grip, but I managed to scramble closer to the door, and what I saw filled me with dread. They’d been fucking shots. Grace was on the ground with Ian on top of her, and before I knew it, there was another round of fire. This time, I heard it clearly.

Mayhem broke out. Three men ran out of the restaurant we were parked outside of.

Sarah screamed, and it shook me out of my state. Adrenaline and horror flooded me, and I tried to get out.

“Grace!” Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck. I had to get to her, I had to get to her, but then Sarah was pulling me back.

“You can’t go out there!” she yelled.

“Get them out of here!” someone barked out.

“Ian!”

“Conn—”

“Fuck.”

I didn’t know where I got the strength from, but I managed to push myself out the door, away from Sarah, away from someone yelling at me. All I saw were Grace and Ian, and I crawled over to them. Frenzy set in at the sight of the pooling blood.

“Call 911!” I shouted. Grabbing at Ian’s shoulder, I got him to roll off of Grace, and tears filled my eyes. He was alive. “You’re alive, you’re alive.” Without thinking, I pressed a hand to where blood was quickly staining his white shirt, the spot growing larger and larger. “We need help over here! Hey! Someone help!”

A car skidded somewhere behind me, knocking something over—a trash can. I flinched at the crash but couldn’t tear my eyes away from Ian. He was coughing up blood and mumbling incoherently about “his unit” and the “fucking desert.”

“Ian, stay with me. Okay? You’re here.” The fright in my own voice reached my ears and caused my hands to tremble. My vision became blurry, my throat closed up.

“G-Grace,” he coughed.

“She’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine,” I rambled. “Don’t speak. Help is on the way.”

I didn’t know the first thing about first aid. All I could do was hope I didn’t make things worse. I tried to clear Ian’s airway, positioning him so his back was straight, and I applied pressure to his wound.

A couple blocks away, sirens started blaring.

“Ian!” Shan! I heard him. I heard him. He was here.

Flicking a panicked glance at Grace, I felt myself moving. Because she wasn’t. No, no, no, no, no. Bile rose within, and I pushed it down. There was so much blood—too much of it.

“Grace,” I choked. Someone tried to pull me away, and I screamed. “Get the fuck away from me!” No, this couldn’t be happening. “Grace, wake up! Wake up!” I cradled her head in my lap and frantically wiped away the blood from her chest and stomach. “No, no, no, no! Someone help me, goddammit!”

“No, no, no—fuck—no.” It was Shan. He took over from me, and I fell back on the sidewalk. “No—oh God, sweetheart, no.”

“They’re not dead!” I heard myself yell.

So why the fuck did Shan look anguished? Fury and grief had struck him across the face, and he tried to hold both Grace and Ian to him. He checked for their pulses, heartbeats, and their injuries.

“Emilia!”

The next thing I knew, I was airborne and thrown into another car. Pain spread along my spine, and I cried out. Then again—fuck, shit, fuck!—my ankle throbbed.

“Emilia, talk to me. Fuck, baby, where are you hurt?” Oh God, it was Finnegan. He scrambled off of me and immediately held me to his chest. We were a pile on the floor, and he wouldn’t stop touching my face. “There’s blood everywhere—tell me—”

“It’s not mine,” I managed to get out in a strangled voice. “It’s not mine. Your mom—” My voice broke, and I let out a sob.

The sirens took over, the lights flooded the street, the chaos became too much, people wouldn’t stop shouting, and no one would fucking let me get to Grace and Ian.

“Look at me, Emilia.” Finnegan gripped my chin, his eyes searching my face. He had tears rolling down his cheeks, and it completely shattered me. “Are—fuck. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m sure. It’s not my blood. But Grace…oh God—” I started weeping like a goddamn baby.

“I know.” He held me tightly, and every time his body rocked with his silent cries, I thought I was going to die. Never in my life had I experienced this kind of pain. “We gotta get to the hospital,” he said hoarsely. “Colm! You good to drive?”

Her eyes had been open. Flashes of the sights I’d just seen were drilled into my skull, one by one, lasting only a second. It paralyzed me, and everything else ceased to exist. My hands were sticky and covered in blood, and they wouldn’t stop shaking. Grace’s eyes had been open. Her eyes—I’d seen them yet refused to acknowledge them. I’d only paid attention to stopping the bleeding.

Now I couldn’t stop picturing her eyes. Those green-blue eyes that’d danced with happiness a few moments ago.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I choked out. A second later, I leaned away from Finnegan and emptied my stomach.

* * *

Grace and Ian were both pronounced dead at the hospital.

The paramedics had detected a weak pulse in Ian at the scene, and they had worked on him on the way, but he didn’t make it. He’d been shot twice in the back, both bullets going straight through. Grace had died quickly, according to the doctors. With three bullets in her back and chest.

White-hot hatred simmered below the surface as I was forced to go through a medical examination. Other than some cuts and scrapes on my legs and a mildly twisted ankle, I was fine. Physically. My heart felt like it’d taken a bullet or two.

I looked as bad as I felt, though the blood was easily cleaned off.

Finnegan refused to leave my side, even though I knew he wanted to be with his mother.

“You sure she’s okay.” He asked for clarification for the tenth time.

The doctor nodded. “She might be in shock, but she’ll be fine, Mr. O’Shea. Keep an eye on her, that’s all. It’s very possible she will need some counseling. I would recommend it, regardless. What she witnessed is never easy.”

“I’m fucking fine,” I whispered. “Can we go now?”

It took Finnegan another couple of minutes’ worth of reassuring from the doctor, and we were finally out of there. I walked carefully on my weak foot, Finnegan’s tight grip on my hand speaking volumes of what was going through his head.

We took the elevator upstairs to where we were told Grace and Ian were, and I shut Finnegan out on the way there so I could be less selfish once inside. Because as much as I wanted to fall into tears at Grace’s bedside, my husband came first. It was his mom, not mine.

Taking a few deep breaths, I hugged Finnegan’s bicep and took charge when he couldn’t.

Conn and Colm sat outside, solemn.

I opened the door and forcefully pushed down my grief. Shan was sitting next to Grace; I couldn’t see his face. He was holding one of her hands and pressing his forehead to the top of it.

Patrick and Sarah were standing in the corner, holding each other. Kellan was beside Ian’s bed, silently seething.

Grace and Ian could’ve been asleep. I suspected they hadn’t been cleaned up yet, hence the blankets covering everything except their heads. Her eyes had been open…now they weren’t.

“Come, honey,” I whispered. I ushered Finnegan inside the room. His eyes brimmed with tears, and he wouldn’t look away from his mother. Eventually, I got him to move forward a bit more, and I guess the levees broke. He sniffled, released my hand, and closed the distance to lean over her and press his lips to her forehead.

I covered my mouth with my hand and tried—and failed—not to cry.

More memories flashed back. I flinched, remembering the shrill scream I’d heard.

I didn’t want the guys to know about it, so I ducked out of the room and wiped at my cheeks.

Colm looked up from where he was sitting.

“She screamed,” I croaked. I coughed slightly to clear my voice. “Grace. She screamed.”

“It was quick, darlin’,” he murmured.

I shook my head. That wasn’t what I was getting at. “We’re not gonna tell Shan and the boys about it, okay? I don’t want them to know she suffered even for a second.”

He understood and nodded once. “I won’t say a word.”

“Me either.” Conn scrubbed his hands over his face and blew out a breath. “Can this day get any worse? First Grace and Ian, then I lost sight of the motherless sons’a—”

“Hey.” Colm nudged his brother’s shoulder. “They drove. You were on foot. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“You tried to run after them?” I asked, a trickle of alarm quickening my heartbeat.

“Doesn’t matter. I lost them,” Conn muttered.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about losing another person.

“This is gonna blow up.” Colm took out a pack of smokes and seemed to catch himself, remembering he couldn’t smoke here. “Grace was like the heart of the syndicate. Everyone adored her. And now John…? Shite.”

I frowned. “What about John?”

“He was kidnapped,” he replied flatly. My eyes widened, and more shock tore through me. “You didn’t know. Goddammit.” He groaned and ran a hand over his head. “We were called into work early. Someone got word from Chicago, and we couldn’t get in touch with John or his men. Pat filled us in when we got here that he’d been taken.”

Holy shit. This was why Finnegan had left for the office this morning. When he texted me, joking about scratches and kittens, had they been trying to figure out what was going on?

“Really, he’s been kidnapped?” I couldn’t shake the disbelief.

Conn nodded. “Anne and the twins are fine, but they snagged John outside their home earlier this morning.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered. “Who do I talk to about getting the twins here?”

Despite the damage I wanted to do to John’s face, he loved his kids, and he’d been lovely to me at the wedding. And at the dinner last week. It definitely didn’t make him a good man, but perhaps he was a good father. Alec and Nessa must be beside themselves. Because, Anne…? Fuck that frigid woman.

“Uh…” Conn exchanged a look with his brother. “Um, probably yourself?”

“Aye, I don’t see anyone else making that decision right now,” Colm agreed.

Okay, that was weird, but I shook it off. “Well, then. Can you arrange for them to come back here?” Poor kids had been lugged back and forth way too much. “Put their safety first. I don’t want them alone. Think like Finnegan. Like, put guards on them or whatever.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll go make some calls.” Conn seemed to be the one who needed to do something the most, and he excused himself.

“Emilia?” The barest hint of panic in Finnegan’s voice made it easy to ignore the pain in my ankle, and I hurried back into the room.

He exhaled in relief and hugged me to him. “Don’t leave my sight. Okay?”

“I’m sorry.” I hugged him back as tightly as I could and closed my eyes. I couldn’t look at Grace. It hurt too much. “I’m here.”

He held me impossibly tighter and breathed me in, his nose buried in my hair. “I could’ve lost you today.”

“You didn’t.” I looked up at him and wiped my thumbs under his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

He nodded and pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you.”

Warmth tingled inside me every time I heard those words. Today, I needed them more than ever. “I love you too.”

We were gonna get through this. I had to believe that, even though I could sense my imminent breakdown creeping closer. It would have to wait until I got Finnegan home—or wherever he deemed it safe to get some rest.

Anger was brewing too. For the second time in my life, I’d been robbed of a mother figure. Grace had taken up residence in my heart fast, and now she was gone. I would never hear her laugh again. She’d have no more advice to share. I’d never get the chance to prove myself worthy of being her daughter-in-law.

I blinked back tears and sucked in a painful breath.

Patrick cleared his throat. “The cops won’t wait much longer, Pop.”

Shit. I should’ve known. Of course, they would have questions.

“Nothing will happen, right?” I asked nervously. “I mean, we haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Don’t worry.” Finnegan kissed me on the forehead. “They won’t find anything.”

“All right.” I grew wary of the whole thing. I didn’t want the police here, but I suspected there was little that could be done about it.

Finnegan glanced over at Grace and released a trembling breath.

Shan was about to fall apart, and I wanted to comfort him. Slowly easing out of Finnegan’s hold, I let him know I wasn’t leaving. Then I rounded the bed and carefully touched Shan’s shoulder.

He wiped his eyes discreetly before facing me, albeit briefly.

“Ian tried to protect her.” I went down on one knee and put a hand on his leg instead of trying to make eye contact. Maybe because it would be unwanted, maybe because I couldn’t bear the heartbreak in his gaze. “He used himself as a shield, and I’m-I’m,” I stammered, “I’m only saying this because I want you to know she was never alone. He didn’t think twice. He just ran out for her.”

Shan’s hand landed on top of mine, and he gave it a squeeze. “Of course he did,” he murmured thickly. “Thank you, sweetheart. I only pray they weren’t in pain.”

I swallowed hard and stared at his hand over mine. There was still some dried blood on his skin. “She didn’t suffer,” I whispered. “It was over in a second, and I didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t know she wasn’t okay, so I guess I lied to Ian. He—he asked about her, and I blurted out she was fine.”

I only dared to lift my gaze enough to see a small quirk of his lips before he scrubbed a hand over his face.

“A good lie.” He patted my hand. “I’m sure that meant everything to him.”

I nodded once in acknowledgment and was about to give him some privacy, but he stopped me.

“It won’t be today, and it won’t be tomorrow,” he said quietly, “but someday soon, I’m going to give you the guilt trip of the ages for putting yourself in harm’s way. But for now, thank you, sweetheart. I’m eternally grateful you were brave enough to be there for them.”

A mixture of emotions raged inside me—gratitude, love, embarrassment, and perhaps a pinch of oh-shit-I-messed-up. Most of all, though, I was determined to be there for them through this.