Connor swung his leg back and planted his boot deep in the gut of the Vasquez soldier. The man groaned and retched bile onto the floor of the storeroom at the warehouse they’d taken him to.

“Now, one more time,” Liam said, squatting as he pulled the man’s head back sharply by his hair. “Where the fuck is Vasquez?”

The door to the room opened, and Finn walked in, followed by two MacFarlane men. He held a cell phone in one hand and had a Bluetooth earpiece in place.

“Yeah, he’s right here.” Finn glanced at their captive. “Yep, still breathing.”

Liam snarled as he shoved the man’s head against the concrete floor and stood. “Tell Cian to piss or get off the pot. We’re not going to get anything out of this guy.”

“You hear that?” Finn asked Cian on the other end of the call. “Yeah. Okay.” He wandered back out the door, and the guys who had followed him in looked to Liam for guidance.

Liam spat on the man lying on the floor, then tipped his chin at the door, indicating it was time for all of them to leave.

“Gag him so he can’t yell,” he told one of the men before leading Connor out of the room.

Finn walked toward them from where he’d been pacing, finishing his call with Cian.

“Now what?” Connor asked. “This has totally screwed up our plans to make peace with Vasquez.”

“Not necessarily,” Finn answered, that look in his eye telling them he was scheming as usual.

Connor’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, one ear still devoted to listening to his brother. Jess’s name flashed on the screen, and he swiped it open.

Connor, it’s Carmen. I’m at Holy Cross Hospital with Jess. I found her beaten in her apartment. You’d better get your cheating ass down here. I’m sure this was your fault.

Connor’s heart raced as his entire body went stone cold. Where the hell was Ricky? Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. His hand was frozen, clutched around the phone. His mind was a blur of static, and the only thought that penetrated was he could lose her. Really lose her this time. And it was all his fault.

“Hey,” Liam said as his big hand came down on Connor’s shoulder. “Hey, cupcake? What the hell’s the matter with you? You’re white as a sheet.”

Connor swallowed, reality rushing back at him a hundred miles a second. It was like being slammed with an icy-cold wind off the lake, and he sucked in a breath as if he hadn’t taken one in several minutes.

He looked down at his phone screen again and nearly vomited.

“It’s Jess. She’s been attacked. She’s in the hospital.”

Liam turned and slammed a foot into the side of a wooden crate sitting nearby.

“I thought we had Ricky on her? Where the hell was he?” Finn asked.

Connor shook his head. “I don’t know. I just—”

“Vasquez, that motherfucker!” Liam snarled.

He whipped back around and snatched the phone from Connor’s hand. Connor ran his fingers through his hair, the backs of his eyes stinging.

“I’ll call Cian,” Finn said before motioning to the soldiers standing outside the storage room nearby. “Take Connor to—” He looked at Liam, who flashed the phone screen at him, “Holy Cross. Stay with him. Stay sharp. My guess is our friend Ramon was messing with Lila as a distraction for the real business, which was going after Jess.”

“They got Jess?” one of the soldiers asked. Jess had grown up with all the MacFarlane employees. Their neighborhood was tight-knit, Irish, and Catholic. Everyone knew everyone else.

“Yeah,” Finn said, clamping a hand over Connor’s shoulder and giving him a squeeze. “But she’s going to be fine.” He bent slightly to look into his brother’s eyes. “You need to believe that. We all do.”

Connor nodded, then swallowed.

“Take care of him,” Liam said gruffly to the men. They both nodded and led Connor out of the warehouse. As the cold night air hit his cheeks, Connor vowed silently to make Vasquez pay. No matter what it took, even if it meant his own life, he was going to see Vasquez burn in hell for touching Jess. Burn. In. Hell.

* * *

Jess was pulled out of a deep and troubled sleep by the commotion at the door.

“You’re the one who texted me!” a voice she knew nearly as well as her own boomed.

“Well, I thought better of it. I’m sure this was some bullshit that followed you, Connor. You’ll just put her in more danger if you’re hanging around now. I always said you were bad for her, and this proves it. I’m not letting you in.”

“Carmen,” Jess called out weakly as she tried to sit up more so she could see across the room. Her left eye was swollen shut, though, so she had a hard time discerning much.

“I had a man assigned to her. I don’t know what happened, but please, Carmen…” Connor said, his voice gravelly and desperate in a way Jess had never heard before. “You have to let me in. I don’t want to force you, but I will. You don’t understand. If I don’t see her, I’m gonna lose it.”

Jess leaned on one arm to push herself to sitting but forgot about the fractured wrist. “Ahhh!” she shrieked as pain shot up her arm all the way to her shoulder.

“Oh my God, Jess!” Carmen came running across the room and gently helped Jess up, pressing on the electric bed to adjust it, then fluffing her pillows. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were awake.”

Jess gave her a wan smile, but her gaze was pinned to Connor, who was now standing just beyond her friend, utter devastation in his eyes.

“Hey,” she said to him softly, glancing at Carmen, who scowled and fluffed her pillow some more.

“I can get hospital security to make him go,” Carmen whispered. “Just say the word.”

Jess shook her head. “It’s okay. We need to talk.”

Carmen glanced back at Connor, and Jess could see two of the MacFarlane employees standing on either side of the doorway to her room. Oddly, even though she knew this was Connor’s fault, it was comforting to have his guards there.

“You should make him leave,” Carmen hissed. “He’ll never change, J. I can’t stand to think about things like this happening to you again. It’s not cool like it was when we were eighteen. It’s just dangerous.”

Jess cupped her friend’s cheek with her good hand. “I know. It’s okay. I’m going to be okay. I promise.”

Carmen sighed and shook her head. “I’ll be right outside the door. You make one peep, and even his goons won’t be able to stop me from rescuing you.”

Jess chuckled. “Got it.”

Carmen swung around, and Jess knew she was glaring at Connor as she pointed a finger at him like a schoolteacher. “Do not upset her, or I will come for your balls.”

Connor didn’t even flinch as she stormed past him and out the door, shutting it behind her.

He stepped to the bed and sat on the chair placed next to it. He lowered his head to the mattress and grabbed her good hand as his body shuddered. For long minutes, Jess simply stroked his hair as he silently worked to control his emotions. And when he was able to look at her finally, there was a steel in him she’d never seen before. Something hard and cold that nearly broke her heart.

“Where is your dad?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t let them call him. He can’t see this. He’ll go nuts and try to go after the guys himself. I won’t let him get himself killed over me.” Jess’s stomach turned at the mere thought of what Sean would do if he saw her right now.

“And where was Ricky?” he asked.

“He said your dad needed him and that he’d get someone else there as soon as possible. He asked me what I had planned, and I was only going to be at home for the rest of the night. I was working on some billing for the gym.”

Connor’s eyes grew harder as his jaw tensed.

“He did his job, Connor. And he’s been…so nice and helpful. Please don’t hold this against him. The guys busted down my front door only about half an hour after he’d left.”

“So they’d been watching.” He shook his head, defeat hovering around him. “How many?” he asked.

“Two,” she answered.

“You fought them?”

“Of course.” Her father hadn’t owned a boxing gym her entire life for nothing. Jess was skilled at boxing and kickboxing, and she’d put up a hell of a fight before two big men on one average-sized woman had simply been too much. She shuddered to think what would have happened if she hadn’t been trained as she was.

“Did they…” Connor’s voice caught, and he swallowed.

“No,” she said firmly, silently thanking God they’d only beaten and not raped her. “I made such a racket, they had to leave. They knew the neighbors would be calling the cops.”

“This was Vasquez,” Connor said. “He screwed with us earlier after a business meeting. I think it was to distract us from his real goal, which was proving he could hurt you.”

She nodded. The guys had spoken Spanish, and there wasn’t much other reason someone would come after her. Her father’s gym was in trouble, but they’d paid the MacFarlane protection money every month no matter what, and they didn’t owe anyone but the bank. She’d never heard of a bank sending out enforcers.

“God, baby.” Conner ran a hand down her bruised cheek. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to live with myself.”

She sighed, resisting the urge to turn into his hand and let him lie to her more. She knew he was hurting, knew he genuinely cared about her, but Connor was a MacFarlane, and one way or another, something like this was bound to happen to anyone they were close to. It was the life, and as much as she loved him, she didn’t want to live it.

She’d seen enough of the lives of the women MacFarlane employees kept around to know it wasn’t for her. They were either skanks who wanted the money, or good Catholic wives and mothers, and either way, they stayed in the neighborhood their whole lives, taking what little bits of their men’s time and attention they were given without complaint.

Jess’s mother hadn’t been able to do it. The cooking and cleaning and pretending not to know what the husbands did when they left home every day. The mob wives in their little piece of Chicago spent decades on the endless loop of church, school, and bunco—see no evil, hear no evil, act like your husband never did any evil. Jess wanted more. She wanted a career, she wanted to travel, she wanted to be able to walk around in broad daylight without a security detail. And most of all, she wanted love, and a man who would be not just faithful, but a true partner. In a different life, Connor might have been able to offer her those things, but not in this one.

“You did what you could,” she told him sadly. “Maybe now he’s gotten his shot in, Vasquez will be satisfied and back off.”

Connor snorted inelegantly. “Not a fucking chance, baby. This means war, and he knows it.”

“You really think your dad’s going to okay a war with Vasquez over me?” If she could have rolled her swollen eyes, she would have. The sexist old dinosaur treated women like possessions. There was no way he’d think Jess being assaulted was worthy of a mob war.

Connor paused as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Cian will,” he answered. “Cian’s in charge, and he knows what you mean to me. He’ll never let this pass without answering it.”

She shut her unblackened eye and laid her head back, suddenly very tired.

She felt Connor’s fingers feather over her cheek once again as he whispered, “Just sleep now, baby. I’m right here, and I won’t leave you again. You’re safe with me. I’ll keep you safe no matter what it takes.”

As Jess’s mind gave up consciousness, she let a momentary fantasy sift through her head—a dream of her and Connor someplace new, just the two of them, and a life without the MacFarlanes.

* * *

Sergei Petrov put one booted foot up on the crate resting in front of him and leaned down to pull a knife out of his ankle holster.

He began using the tip of it to clean his fingernails, a habit he’d picked up several years ago when he was working in the Ukraine and everything, most of all the people, was filthy.

“You thought it was prudent to leave her alive?” he asked his companion.

Alejandro Vasquez shrugged before leaning against the wall of the loading dock where his workers were moving Sergei’s merchandise from one truck to another.

“You said to get them off balance, so that’s what I did. I’d rather not kill her until I get my cousin back, right?”

Sergei shook his head in disgust. Both the Irish and the Mexicans had so many complicated family ties. It was always in the way of business, complicating every negotiation, interfering with every decision. They were pathetic and weak. It drove him crazy.

“I was born in the prison camps in Siberia,” Sergei said, replacing the knife in his boot as he stood. “My mother worked twelve hours a day carrying water and food to the men who chopped down forests. She doesn’t know who my father was since she was raped by four different men before she was pregnant.” He paused, one eyebrow lifted as he looked at Vasquez with disdain. “I wouldn’t know my cousin from a musk deer in Siberia, and I would never let an enemy get the better of me because of one.”

Vasquez put his hands out to the side in a “what can I do?” gesture. “Do you want me to kill the little bitch? I can.”

Sergei thought for a moment. “No. Just proceed as you would for now. I need to leave town for a few days on other business.”

“And if they attack us?”

Sergei shrugged. “Hit back.”

“And if they want to use my cousin as a bargaining chip?”

“Make it a good bargain,” Sergei replied.

Vasquez narrowed his eyes at the bigger man. “I got no problem helping out, but I have to say, I’m not sure how you’re going to get what you want this way.”

This was why men like Vasquez would never be on top. No vision.

“I always get what I want,” Sergei said as he strode away.