by Vi Carter
“Claire.” Richard's voice fades.
I close my eyes. I just want to sleep.
The loud banging will not allow me to sleep. I want to tell Richard to stop making noise.
His roar rips through my body and forces my eyes open. He’s beating his fists against the glass wall. His hands are a bloody mess from plummeting the glass.
Stop, you’re hurting yourself.
The words don’t form as he slams his fists repeatedly into the glass wall. He pauses, and his gaze meets mine. He falls to his knees.
“You have to stay awake. I’ll get us out of this.” He pushes his hand against the glass like he can touch me. I remember what his touch feels like, and I want to move and touch him too, but my body won’t obey the command. My brain keeps misfiring, and I can’t move.
A coldness seeps into my toes and soon floods my body.
Leonard.
I remember Leonard attacking me, cutting my arm open. I try to turn my head but can’t. My vision wavers as the memories pour in: Connor’s dead body; Davy’s betrayal; and Liam, Richard’s father, who had orchestrated all of this.
“Richard.” I manage to squeeze his name out as sheer terror takes over. I want to scream for him to run, that it’s all a trap. I blink, and he’s still kneeling on the floor, his hand still pressed against the glass.
A cold sweat has me shaking, and Richard starts to rise.
Don’t leave me.
His fists hit the wall faster and harder, and all I see is blood before my vision fails me and the world turns dark and cold.
“Richard,” I say his name again as my body starts to tremble. Or maybe the world is shaking.
The distinctive noise of someone coming downstairs reaches my ears. Footsteps pound too close to me. Had Richard gotten out of the box? Had he gone upstairs and come back down? None of it makes sense to me.
Silence follows, and I’m floating in an abyss of darkness. I must have imagined the sound.
Richard. Richard. Richard.
His name circles my mind. I’m dying. That’s what this feels like. Death. Leaving this earth isn’t painful. I’m not clawing or holding on to anything physical. It’s the memories I’m holding onto. The faces that have gone before me of my mother and father the face that nearly destroyed me, Leonard, and the one that saved me, Richard.
If I could cry, I would. But tears are tangible, and I think wherever I am, everything is intangible.
“I’m here to help.” The voice speaks above me, and I’m being dragged away from the darkness towards the voice. “She’s alive.” The voice is close to my ear. I don’t recognize the person.
“Get away from her!” That’s Richard. His voice I would never forget.
“Stand back.” The words come from the male.
Bang! Bang! The noise is louder, different. I’ve heard it before. It’s a gunshot. Pain races through me, and I wonder if someone shot me. The pain is everywhere, but mostly in my arm. I want to hang on, but my mind is spinning, and it’s like I’m falling into a tornado of memories and faces.
RICHARD
“Have you come to finish the job?” Anger accelerates through my body, flooding every part of me. The bullets crack the glass, but they don’t break it. Jack keeps his gun pointed high. My fists slam into the glass in front of me. “You can’t fucking kill me!” My roar is fueled with pure hate and hurt as I look my brother in the eyes.
“I’m trying to help.” Jack fires another shot at the glass, and it cracks further, but it still doesn’t shatter. Not like how I am shattering as I stare at my brother. “You told him everything.” My fist slams into the glass again, wanting it to be my brother’s face.
Jack lowers the gun. “I didn’t think he’d ever do this to you.”
Jack’s voice carries his truth, but it doesn’t stop what he caused. Claire’s body is so still on the floor, and I know my time is running out. I shove down my hatred for my brother. “Fire at the keypad. The glass is the weakest there.” That’s why I had focused on punching that area, hoping it would crack. I stand back.
Jack fires a round into the keypad. The bullets shattered the wall like I knew they would. The glass tumbles down, giving me enough space to get out. All I want to do is hurt Jack the moment I am released. I slip the knife from my pocket and slam both of us into the wall, holding the knife to his throat.
“What you wanted to do was madness. You and Shay aren’t seeing the bigger picture.”
I push the knife harder against my brother’s throat. My vision wavers at the level of his betrayal. Everyone in my life had failed me, and now my big brother, too. I’m aware he’s holding the gun, yet it hangs at his side.
“You betrayed me.” I allow every ounce of my pain into my words and release Jack. My want for blood is strong, but my need to save Claire is stronger. I scoop her up off the floor and drag her small frame to my chest. She seems smaller and lighter in my arms.
“Stay with me.” I press a kiss against her forehead and take the steps two at a time upstairs. Jack races behind me, and when we reach the hall, he’s moving to the front door. “I’ll drive.”
I shouldn’t trust him, but I don’t have allies right now, and Claire is getting paler by the second. I get into the back of the Range Rover with Claire in my arms. She’s covered in blood; all I see is blood. I pull her closer to my chest as Jack tears down the driveway and to the hospital.
“Stay with me, sweetheart.” I press a kiss on her forehead.
I’m not a praying type of guy, but I send up my threat nonetheless. If she dies, I’ll wreak havoc on this earth.
That’s my prayer. That’s my promise.
“I didn’t know he would do this. I thought I was protecting you.” Jack’s words mean nothing right now. “Mario rang me and told me what Davy and Father did.”
So it had been Mario who had rung Jack. I had wondered how Jack knew, but my anger wouldn’t allow me to ask earlier.
“Davy betrayed me, too.” I find myself saying. Davy had fed me the fucking lies that Mario was one of my father’s men, that Mario was the one giving my father information. All along, it was Davy.
I feel played. Truly played.
“I’m sorry, Richard.”
I meet Jack’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Shut the fuck up, Jack.” I refocus on Claire.
We pull up at the hospital. The vehicle hasn’t fully stopped when I push the door open and get out with Claire tucked into my chest. The main doors open, and I rush past the receptionist.
“I need a doctor now!”
“Sir, you can’t go back there.” The receptionist tries to stop me.
I slam my shoulder into the double doors that have “No Entry” taped onto them.
The emergency room is hectic, but I walk up to the first doctor, who’s examining someone’s fucking arm.
“Save her.”
He takes one look at Claire and starts calling out to another doctor and some nurses who follow him. I’m racing behind them.
“What happened?” He asks.
Two nurses veer up beside me, pushing a gurney.
“A stab wound to her arm.”
“Put her down.” The doctor says, and it’s like the world has paused as they all stand around the gurney waiting for me to lower her.
I can’t let her go.
“Let them help her.” I hadn’t even noticed that Jack had followed me into the hospital. I shrug his hand off my shoulder and release Claire. The moment she’s on the gurney, they are running toward another set of white doors, and she disappears from my sight.
Sound resumes. The ringing phones demand attention, voices buzz all at once, shoes squeak along the floor.
A small girl with a pink band tied in her long blonde hair stares up at me. I look down at my blood-soaked shirt and hands. Her mother drags her away and tucks her behind her legs.
“She’s in the best place.” Jack’s comforting words propel me out of the emergency room and outside.
; “What Shay and I were doing was trying to stop the disloyalty. I wanted to build something on strength and loyalty.” I focus all my anger on him. I can’t allow myself to think of Claire.
“Both of you were going too far. I honestly thought Father would just have a talk with you. Removing Father or killing Lucian isn’t going to make us better, Richard.”
“You should have fucking voiced that, on the hill of the Loch Leigh mountains,” I roar.
“You were too far up your arse to see the mess you and Shay would have made.”
I launch myself at Jack and slam my fist into his jaw. It’s not enough, and I hit him again. The blow sends him back, but he doesn’t retaliate. “I didn’t think our father would hurt you.”
I slam my fist into his jaw again.
Blood spills from his split lip, and he stands taller. The glint in his eyes is what I want to see. He’s ready to fight.
“I’m sorry, Richard.” His words are gritted at me as he wipes blood from his lip.
They give me pause, and I don’t attack. I turn my back on him. “He left me down there to die.” My father was a lot of things, but I didn’t think he’d kill me off—his own son. No matter what he had done or did, I might try to remove him from his place in the Irish Mafia, but taking his life, that was a place I would never go. I still didn’t think I ever would.
“I never thought he would do something like that.” Jack’s hand lands on my shoulder, and once again, I shrug it off.
“When I got out of the asylum, I swore we couldn’t become Father and his brothers. I don’t want to be part of something that’s built solely on money and for money. I want more.” I turn to Jack. “Stay here with Claire.” Opening my hands, I take a step back to my brother. “Give me your keys.”
He doesn’t question me but places his keys in my hand.
I’m ready to walk away, but his hand tightens around mine. “I’ll stay here with her until you get back, but don’t kill him. We can still bring your vision to life.” Jack’s hands get tighter. “We just do it the right way.”
“What’s the right way, Jack?” I think we have all lost the understanding of right and wrong.
“I don’t know, but I promise we will figure it out together. Just don’t kill Father.” Jack releases my hand.
I make no promises as I jog to Jack’s vehicle and get in.
While driving, I flip open the glove compartment. I take out the gun and sit it on the passenger seat.
Jack’s phone sits in the dock and I scroll through the device until I find Shay’s number. I ring him. Shay answers after three rings. I should tell him to run straight away, but I’m being a selfish fucker and want to know about Dana.
“Did she get across safely?” I ask.
“Yeah, he has her now. Cillian said he’d be in touch in a few days, but something was off.” Shay trails off.
“What do you mean ‘off’?”
“I don’t know,” Shay answers. “I know him. His word is good.”
I’m not convinced, but time is running out. “My father knows everything. You need to run.”
“How does he know?” Shay’s still driving, his voice is calm, but it’s hard to know with Shay just how pissed off he might be.
“One of my men betrayed me. They told my father everything.” I can’t drop Jack in all of this.
“You ask about Dana first before you tell me this. This is some bullshit, Richard.”
“For now, you need to keep your head down until we figure this out.” I ignore the comment about Dana.
“You are all some bunch of cunts. I’m always the fucking one running after doing your dirty work.” Shay hangs up. The protest on my lips slips away as a string of curses takes its place.
I fling the phone onto the passenger seat. I hate that Shay had to run, hating that he no doubt is feeling every inch of the betrayal that I feel from Jack. If I said it was Jack who told my father, I didn’t think Shay would control himself.
My hands still bleed, and the blood that coats my fingers is making the steering wheel slippery. Removing my hands one at a time, I rub them on my trousers before re-gripping the wheel as I power down the road.
Davy’s semi-detached house is my destination. I pull up in his driveway. Checking Jack’s gun, I make sure it’s loaded. I slip it into the waistband of my trousers and get out of the car and walk up to the door. A camera over my head doesn’t give me pause. I try the door handle, but it’s locked. I walk around the side of the house. The side door is unlocked, and I step into Davy’s kitchen. Taking the gun out of the waistband of my trousers, I keep it raised as I move through his home.
Running water upstairs doesn’t draw my attention straight away. I do a sweep of the downstairs, and when I don’t see Davy, I make my way carefully upstairs. The water stops running, a clear indication of where he is.
Taking a fucking bath.
I push the door open with my foot, my gun trained on his head. He has removed his top but spins, and his gaze flickers to a green army jacket.
“Move, and I pull the trigger,” I warn.
Davy slowly raises his hands. “He’s helping me find my daughter.”
I fire a shot to the left of his head. It tears the tiles off the wall, which explodes into the tub.
Davy’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares at me.
The silence drags out, and I’m okay with that.
“My daughter is being trafficked.”
I fire another shot to the left of him.
“Fuck’s sake, Richard. I’ve always been loyal. Your father promised me my daughter.”
I’m moving. His lazy excuse for betraying me has me slamming the gun into his nose. It breaks with a satisfying crunch. His roars fuel me, and I slam my fist into his face. He stumbles back toward the tub.
“I had no choice!” His roar has me pausing.
“There is always a choice.”
Davy dives for the gun in my hand. He squeezes the trigger and fires a shot into the wall. My knee hits between his legs, and he falls to the floor. Gripping him by the back of his neck, I drag his traitorous body to the tub.
He knows what I’m about to do. “Richard, I can make it right.”
I push his head into the water and hold it under. He’s hysterically thrashing and kicking.
I use both hands and force his head deeper. The gun in my hand shimmers, and I know I could be merciful and use it on Davy. Water pours over the side of the tub as he continues to fight for his life. When his legs kick out slower, I know his life is slipping away. I wait until he goes still before releasing his head. It floats to the top of the water.
No matter how many lives I take, it doesn’t get easier, especially with people who had become like family. Davy was the closest I’d had to a friend.
I leave his house, still hungry for revenge. Once I get back into Jack’s vehicle, I ring the clean-up crew.
I give them the address before giving my instructions, “Burn it to the ground.” I inform them. I didn’t want any of it standing. His elimination would be a warning to others.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CLAIRE
Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!
I part my lips, and a layer of skin tears off. Something heavy is on my finger as I try to lift my hand to my face. Something is lying under my nose, making it difficult to breathe.
“It’s okay. You're safe.” I blink, but it’s too bright, so I close my eyes again. Hand’s touch mine and push them away from my face. “You’re in the hospital.”
I swallow the dryness in my throat that has me begging for water. Richard’s hands leave mine, and fear tightens its bony fingers around my throat.
“Don’t leave me.” I don’t recognize the deep voice that.cracks on each word.
Something touches my lip. “I’m not leaving. Take a drink.”
I allow the straw fully into my mouth and drink deeply. Richard moves away again, and I try to clamp down on the panic I feel. The light in the room fades
as the blinds clink together. I slowly open my eyes. My stomach tenses as Richard comes into view.
He takes up so much space, and when he sits down beside me, it doesn’t make him smaller. He’s still a force that takes my breath away.
He’s darkness.
His eyes fill up slowly with unspent anger.
Yet as he touches my hand, I’ve never felt anything so gentle. My throat tightens at his touch. Everything in me quivers.
“How are you feeling?”
The door opens, and the nurse steps in. She looks at the closed blinds, and I want to explain the light was hurting my eyes, but words fail me, as Richard releases my hand and leans back, giving the nurse some space.
“It’s great to see you awake.” Her smile is warm as she speaks and looks at the monitor.
I don't look away from Richard. I fear if I do, he’ll disappear. I have so much I want to ask him, but I know not to ask in front of the nurse.
“Your recovery is going great.” Her words don’t drag me away from Richard.
His gaze is a storm, and I want to reach over the edge of the bed and touch his hand. “Are you okay?” I ask him. My voice sounds odd.
“Let the nurse check you,” he replies.
The nurse in question is smiling down at me. “I just need to take your blood pressure.”
I nod, and she rolls up my sleeve. “How are you feeling?” She asks while she writes down my digits on her clipboard.
“Thirsty.”
“That’s to be expected. You’ve been asleep for three days.”
Three days?
Three days, that’s a long time. The nurse removes the blood pressure band, does a few more checks, and leaves as the silence is making everyone uncomfortable. The moment she leaves, I try to sit up.
“What happened?”
Richard rises and towers over me. “Claire, you need to lie back.” He guides me back gently and picks up the water. “I’ll talk. You drink.”
I allow the straw to enter my mouth as he speaks.
“Do you remember the attack in the house?”