Seven Crows

by Kate Kessler

  “I should have killed him back then.”

  “This isn’t on you. It’s on me.” Hell, it was on Jason, but he was nothing but bones and memories now.

  “We’ll get her back, and then we’ll finish it.” If he were anyone else, that promise, coupled with the affection in his gaze, would have sent her running. We had never been a concept she understood. Instead she kept her hand on his for a little longer before removing it so they both could eat.

  “You’re not meeting him alone,” he said after a few bites. “I’m going with you. I don’t care if I have to hide in the trunk.”

  “We’ll put some pillows down so you’ll be comfortable,” she said with a smile. What she didn’t say was that she wanted him with her—not because she was afraid of going alone, or even that she wanted backup. No, she wanted him with her so there would be someone there to take Shannon home if Rank killed her.

  After dinner they spent a relatively quiet evening together. Dash filled Danny in on as much as Killian told him to, and then they discussed loose plans before watching a little TV. It was an early night, but they were both exhausted. She wasn’t ashamed of snuggling close to him so he could hold her, either.

  It ripped her out of a beautiful and deep sleep when her phone rang at three in the morning. Blindly, she groped for it on the bedside table and answered without seeing who it was. Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Shannon?” she asked, voice thick and rough. Beside her, Dash stirred.

  “Killy?”

  It was Megan. She sat up, immediately awake. Her sister sounded terrified. “What’s wrong?”

  Her voice was a strained whisper. “There’s someone in my house.”

  Twelve

  They took Dash’s car because it was faster, and because Killian was too jacked up to drive.

  Megan and Willow were fifteen minutes away. Dash promised to get her there in half that time, and he drove the ’Vette like he was on a track. Traffic wasn’t heavy at that time of night, but there were still other cars to maneuver around. He made it look easy, totally in control. Killian knew it would only take one idiot or one cop to ruin everything. She sat there, stiff and tense in the passenger seat, silently willing the car to go faster, for time to propel them forward.

  For once, luck was on her side. No cops. No idiots—no more than usual. Dash had to run a couple of lights in town, but he didn’t slow down if he didn’t have to. They screamed through the streets into Megan’s neighborhood and glided to a stop outside her house.

  “I don’t see anything,” Killian said, glancing up and down the street as she jumped out.

  “Black Range Rover,” Dash told her, opening the trunk. “It doesn’t belong to anyone on this street.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He shot her a sharp glance. “You think I didn’t keep an eye on your family while you were in? I know everything about everyone in a two-block radius, and that vehicle doesn’t belong here.” He tossed her a 9mm and stuck another in the back of his jeans. She noticed he also had a retractable blade sheathed to his wrist.

  Killian had her brass knuckles, of course, and her knife, but the gun felt good in her hand. If anyone had hurt her sister or niece, she wasn’t going to waste time beating on them. She was just going to end them. Screw the consequences.

  The entrance to the attic was in Megan’s bedroom closet. That’s where she’d told her sister to hide with Willow. Even if they looked in the closet, they’d have to actually walk in and move clothes around to find the door. Depending on who the intruders were, they might be smart enough to do that, but it would buy Dash and her more time.

  They hurried up the drive, keeping to the shadows at the side of the house. The back door had been forced open. The sight of it sent a little frisson of fear down Killian’s spine. It was quiet. A home should never be that quiet.

  She took point. Streetlights cast fingers of pale light through the windows, but otherwise the place was completely dark. Intruders who were there to do harm wouldn’t waste time on the ground floor; they’d head upstairs to where the bedrooms were, and the bastards’ head start meant they already knew Megan was hiding. Under beds and in closets would be the first places they looked.

  “There’s a car out front,” she heard someone whisper as she turned down the hall to the stairs. “A Corvette.”

  “Fuck,” rasped another voice. A movement in the shadows showed Killian exactly where he was. She struck fast, cracking the side of his skull with the 9mm. He fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

  “Shit!” his companion cried. He pulled a gun and fired. Killian and Dash both narrowly avoided getting hit. Dash pressed against the wall and Killian dove to the floor. In a crouch, she swung her leg and took the intruder’s out from underneath him. When he started to crawl away, she grabbed at him, pulling herself up until she could straddle him, and punched him three times in the face. The force of each blow reverberated up her arm, waking the bruises on her knuckles.

  Footsteps sounded upstairs. The sound of the shot had spooked the others, who were coming to check on their friends. Dash was already on his way up. Killian got to her feet and hurried after him.

  The footfalls had gone quiet. How many of them were there, and where were they hiding? She couldn’t check on her sister without taking care of them first.

  Dash gestured that he was going to check Willow’s room. Killian nodded her own head toward the bathroom the girls shared. Both of them moved silently, the doors barely creaking as they carefully pushed them open.

  The hairs on the back of Killian’s neck rose as soon as she stepped over the threshold. There was someone there; she could feel it. Instead of moving all the way into the room, she slammed her body into the door, knocking it back into the wall—and whoever stood there.

  “Ugh!” he cried. Something fell to the tile. It was a gun. Killian kicked it out of the way before yanking the door toward her. She didn’t wait to see what sort of condition he was in, but went at him with a flurry of kicks and punches that took him to the floor. There was no finesse to her movements, just brute force. His head bounced off the toilet on the way down, knocking him unconscious.

  That’s when she saw the patch on his back. He was an SOB. Had they put out a hit on her sister? Why? Oh shit. She bent down and searched his jeans for a phone. When she found it, she swiped the screen and found his incoming texts. The second one was a photo of Wex’s dead face, eyes wide, bullet hole glistening. The accompanying message simply said, Killian Delaney sends her regards.

  “Fuck,” she whispered. This was retaliation, and that meant Megan and Willow were in more danger than she’d first thought. Clutching the phone in her hand, she rose to her feet and went to find Dash. She stepped out into the dark hall. He wasn’t in Willow’s room anymore, so she turned toward Shannon’s. He stepped out just as she was about to look in.

  Together they went to Megan’s room. Killian’s heart kicked against her ribs so hard it hurt. The door to her sister’s closet was open. However many were left, at least one of them was in there. Megan wouldn’t have left it open when she and Willow went in there to hide. Even fear wouldn’t have stopped her from taking that extra step in the hope of protecting her child.

  She nudged Dash with her elbow and nodded toward the closet. He stepped farther into the room and checked behind the door, then under the bed. He shook his head.

  Killian kept her back to the wall as she approached the closet. She could see the door was open all the way, so there was no chance of someone hiding behind it. That meant he, or they, were just inside the door, pressed against the opposite side of the wall from her. Slowly, she crouched to her hands and knees and moved closer. When she got to the open door, she rolled onto her hip, reached around the frame, and wrapped both hands around a booted ankle just as she braced her own foot against the door for leverage and pulled out and up, taking him off balance. He crashed into the clothes and hangers with a string of curses, and fell to his knee. Killian lunged at
him, using her body weight to topple him to the ground. There was no one else in there with him.

  Dash turned on the closet light. She blinked against the sudden harshness but recognized the guy beneath her as another SOB. He was one of Wex’s top guys, but she couldn’t remember his name.

  He grabbed the front of her shirt like he was going to belt her.

  “Unless you want your brains used as an accessory, I wouldn’t,” Dash advised. He pointed his gun at the man’s head from the threshold.

  The SOB let go of Killian reluctantly. She punched him in response. “Coming after a defenseless woman and a kid? What the fuck is wrong with you people?”

  “You killed Wex. It was payback.”

  “I didn’t kill him, asshole.”

  He obviously didn’t believe her. Killian sighed. “You know what I used to do. You know what I did to Rank. Do you honestly think if I got my hands on Wex I’d let him have something as fast as a bullet? Especially after he took my niece? That’s not even my fucking phone number that sent the photo.”

  Doubt registered on his features. “If it wasn’t you, then who?”

  “Rank.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  “It’s true. Whoever sent you this is probably the same person who left Wex’s body in my apartment.” She wouldn’t have thought Rank would do something like this. Why send the SOBs after her when he obviously wanted to take her out himself?

  Sirens wailed, not so distant.

  Killian shoved his buddy’s phone into his hand. “Get the fuck out of here. Go back to your brothers and tell them I didn’t do this. Tell them if anyone comes after my family they’ll wish I’d been kind enough to kill them.”

  He gave her a dubious look, but he knew what Rank had been before she got to him, and what he was now. “You’re sure Rank did him?”

  She nodded. “I know he did.”

  “We want his body. He deserves a club funeral.”

  Jesus Christ. “I don’t…”

  “That can be arranged,” Dash interrupted. “Now get the hell out of here, asshole. Take whatever friends are awake. The others are going to have to take the hit for the rest of you.”

  The biker didn’t argue. The sirens were closing in and would be there at any second. He ran.

  “Give me your gun,” Dash commanded. Killian didn’t hesitate to hand it over, along with her knife and knuckles. When the cops arrived she couldn’t afford to be caught with them. She didn’t ask where he was going when he left her in the closet. Her only focus was getting to the attic door and getting it open.

  “Meg?” she said softly. “Are you up there?”

  She heard a sob, and then the shadowy outline of her sister appeared at the top of the attic stairs. She had Willow in her arms. “Killy,” she whispered. “Is it over?”

  “It is, sweetie. It is.” Killian met her halfway up the stairs, scared that Megan’s shaking would send both her and Willow tumbling. Her sister’s grip on the little girl was unbreakable, and Willow’s sobs wrenched at Killian’s heart. She held on to both of them, guiding them down the steps until they reached the bottom and Megan’s legs decided they’d done enough. She sank to the bottom stair, clutching her child, and Killian knelt beside them, her arms wrapped around them.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “It’s not your fault,” Megan replied.

  Killian didn’t believe her. It was her fault—all of it. She was going to do everything she could to make up for it, but she knew it would never be enough. If it weren’t for her, Shannon would be safe. She’d be here, in bed, and so would her mother and sister. They wouldn’t have to worry about things like retaliation and gang wars.

  “I shouldn’t have come back here. I should have stayed away.”

  Her sister didn’t respond, and Killian knew then that Megan agreed. That silence lay heavy and awkward between them, punctuated only by Willow’s gradually subsiding sobs. It was almost a relief when the cops found them and Killian had to let them go.

  Killian would give the SOBs this—they were incredibly good liars, or at least determined. The remaining guys in the house told the cops they’d broken in because they’d heard she lived there and thought she might be worth something to someone. They never meant to “scare the woman or the kid.” They refused to give up those who had come with them, and said nothing about Wex. When the cops disgustedly put them in cuffs and led them away, attention turned to Killian and Dash.

  “Were you here at the time of the break-in?” Detective Manning asked. She was a tall woman, big-boned. Killian bet a punch from her was like getting hit by a truck.

  “No. My sister called me when she heard intruders.”

  The detective frowned, dark-blond brows pulling together. “Why did she call you and not the police?”

  Oh, she wanted to be a smart-ass so bad…“I guess she panicked. You’d have to ask her.”

  “Maybe she thought you’d do a better job protecting her and her daughter.”

  Killian shrugged.

  “Her other daughter”—Manning consulted the notebook in her hand—“Shannon. She’s missing?”

  Killian nodded, biting back the urge to remark on what a great job the police were doing on that as well.

  “Any chance this incident had something to do with that?”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Any chance her disappearance has to do with you, then?”

  She crossed her legs. Megan’s kitchen chairs were uncomfortable. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Come on, Killian. Of course you do. Everyone knows the Sons of Bitches have been in bed with Rank Cirello for years. And everyone knows what you did to Cirello.”

  Killian met her gaze and didn’t blink. “You know a lot, Detective, except how to find a missing girl.”

  “Touché.” There was a hint of a smile on the other woman’s face. “Have you been looking for your niece?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Been talking to some of your old associates?”

  “That would be stupid of me.”

  “No offense, but your smarts aren’t what you’re known for.”

  “Ouch, Detective.”

  The cop watched her for a second, as if searching some part of her face for a lie. Killian kept her expression one of boredom.

  “What’s your relationship to Mr. Clark?”

  “We’re old friends.”

  “Is that all? He seems pretty concerned about you and your family.”

  “What we are is none of your business. Dash doesn’t have a record.”

  “True, but he’s got some interesting friends.”

  She said nothing. She ought to have left Dash behind. She never should have involved him in this at all.

  Manning closed the notebook. “You’re lucky it was Mr. Clark who called nine-one-one, otherwise I’d be curious as to why you didn’t call the police, knowing your family was in danger.”

  Dash called the cops? When the hell had he done that? They were only separated for a few minutes. Thank God he’d thought of it, though doing so had been a real gamble. Obviously he’d calculated the odds better than she had. As soon as a shot had been fired it had been taken out of their hands. He’d done the right thing to save both their asses.

  Now, what had he done with their weapons?

  “No offense,” she said, mimicking the detective’s earlier words, “but I don’t exactly have a lot of faith in the cops.”

  “You thought you could handle several bikers on your own, unarmed?” She arched a brow. Killian wondered if they’d searched Dash’s car, because the woman definitely did not believe they’d shown up empty-handed.

  “I’ve done it before.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t have thought you were that kind of girl.”

  Killian’s eyes narrowed. “Was that supposed to be a fucking joke? Because making cracks about gangbanging to a sexual assault survivor is a pretty serious transgression, isn’t it?”
/>
  The smirk slid from the other woman’s face. “A survivor?”

  “I was molested by my stepfather when I was young. Look it up. The fine police of Connecticut didn’t think there was enough evidence to hold him at the time, but he was arrested for raping the daughter of his next wife a few years later.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, sure you are. Look, we’re done. I need to make sure my sister and niece are okay.”

  The detective nodded and stood as Killian did. “Are you going to file a complaint against me?”

  “What?” She scowled at the woman. “Fuck, no. Just go do your job, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I am sorry. It was a stupid thing to say.”

  “Whatever.” Killian turned her back on her and walked away, shaking her head in disgust.

  She walked into the living room, where Megan was talking to more police. Willow slipped from the sofa and ran to her, arms out. Killian swept her up into her arms.

  “You okay, sweetie?” she asked.

  The little girl nodded, green eyes wide. “Mama says the bad men are all gone now. You scared them.”

  Killian laughed. “I think the police scared them.”

  “No,” she insisted in her strong, high voice. “It was you.” She wrapped her arms around Killian’s neck and squeezed.

  Killian’s heart couldn’t take much more of this. She only had the capacity to love so much and most of it was spent on this family. The rest…She glanced toward the other room, where still more police had taken Dash. Well, she had a little love to spare, maybe. She didn’t need to go assigning it just yet.

  Sometime close to five A.M. the police finally left. Willow had fallen asleep on her shoulder, so Killian put her on the love seat and covered her with a throw.

  “What happens now?” Megan asked. She was still shaken, her face pale, eyes red.

  Dash leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Is there somewhere you and Willow could stay for a couple of days?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Cam’s mother would ask questions…”