Darragh reached for Luna, his fingers closing around open air as Ivory slipped out of harm’s way. Luna screamed, snapping me free from the terror that had gripped me.
I would die before I allowed that man to touch that girl.
I moved, darting across the space between us as adrenaline fueled me. I ducked low when Darragh turned to reach for me, closing my hand into a perfect fist that I slammed into his balls with all the force propelling me.
He bent over, a wheezing breath rattling in his chest as I shoved myself to my feet. Ivory hurried away, running to Don’s side and trying to wake the older man who didn’t move.
I grabbed the back of Darragh’s head with both hands, sinking my fingers into the inky, scraggly hair there and using it to grip him. He struggled, wrapping his bruising fingers around my wrists, but I slammed him face first down onto my knee before twisting my arms and pulling away.
The skin on my arms bloomed with pain, the bruising forming almost instantly as I spun away and helped Aoife to her feet. Scar’s repeated lessons, where he’d worked me to exhaustion learning to defend myself, taught me to survive long enough for him to find me.
I just had to pray that he was up there, making his way through the rubble to do what he’d always said he would.
To come lay Darragh’s head at my fucking feet.
But if he wasn’t, then I’d do it my goddamn self. I’d make him proud of me before I joined him on the other side.
Blood gushed out of Darragh’s nose as he straightened to full height, brushing it away with the back of his hand. The crooked set to it brought a grim smile to my face.
“I see I have to break you again,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he took a step toward me. I sidestepped, keeping myself between him and Ivory. Protecting Luna, our future, at all costs.
Aoife bent down, lifting a rock from the ground as Darragh tucked the gun into his waistband. We all knew he couldn’t use it, not if he wanted to walk out of here with the four of us alive.
“Come to your owner, Pet,” he snarled, snapping his fingers at me like I would obey the command.
“Go back to your cage, Dog,” I taunted, picturing the new one Scar would put him in given the chance.
Aoife slid the rock into my palm, swaying on her feet as her eyes rolled back. The blow to her cheek had already bruised, swelling within just a few moments. She staggered, pressing her hand to the wall to try to support herself. Although she would help where she could, the obvious dizziness made her far more likely to get hurt.
I clutched the rock in my grasp, the stone heavy in my palm as Darragh’s eyes dropped to it. “Do you remember the fire poker?” he asked, as if this was a moment to reminisce on.
“I should have shoved it up your ass,” I snapped, holding my ground when he took a single, menacing step toward me.
“Remember the gun?” he asked, glancing down at my healed arm.
I waited, watching his body for signs of his attack. He favored his left leg, limping from the blow to his shriveled up balls.
When he feinted to the right, I leaned into his left to block the strike he tried to deliver, then the open hands that tried to grab for me. Stomping my foot down on top of his, I threw all my weight behind the concrete in my hand. Pieces of it broke off as it slammed into his cheekbone, mirroring the injury he’d given Aoife.
“You never broke me,” I hissed, standing tall as he staggered back a step and shook off the pain.
I switched hands, dropping the rock into my left and using it to jab him in the stomach. The stone weighted my punches, adding to the force I could exert. He caught my wrist as I pulled away, using it to tug me closer until his putrid breath touched my cheek.
Hot. Disgusting.
“You weren’t fucking man enough for that,” I mocked, spreading my pointer and middle fingers and bending them at the middle knuckle. Darragh sneered down at me, his face smug with triumph when he leaned over me.
I struck.
Shoving my knuckles into his throat, surrounding the bone at the center, I squeezed my fingers together, pinching his windpipe until he sputtered and coughed.
He released me, letting me stumble away awkwardly. “He won’t be waiting for you,” he said, laughter bubbling up his abused throat.
“He’s my fucking husband. He will always be waiting for me.”
“That would be difficult when he’s already fucking dead,” Darragh spat. “All of them are. Even Matteo Bellandi himself, reduced to dust in that monstrosity you called home.”
“No,” Ivory said, shaking her head.
“He opened the door that set off the bomb, sweetheart,” Darragh said, turning to her with a gleeful stare. “Nobody could have survived that blast. There’s nothing left of him now.”
Ivory swallowed, covering Luna’s ears the best she could and smiling down at her baby girl. Her other hand cupped her stomach, cradling the life that had yet to be born, while Darragh laughed.
“Matteo Bellandi is dead.”
69
SCAR
I shoved drywall and marble off my body, light pouring in through the cracks in the rubble that surrounded me.
All around me, Bellandi men clambered to their feet. My ears rang as I heaved a piece of debris off my stomach, turning over onto my belly so deep coughs could expel the dust from my lungs.
“Where’s Matteo?!” Lino yelled, his voice coming from somewhere behind me. I pushed myself to ignore it, making my choice in that moment, the one I’d somehow always known I would have to make.
Irina or the Bellandis. The love of my life or my loyalty to my family.
It was always her.
I stumbled over the rubble, racing for the missing door to the stairs as pain shot through my calf with every uneven step. The steps were all but gone, nothing but a gaping hole remaining where they’d led into the basement.
Stepping back a few strides, I turned to the ledge then took a running leap, arms and legs in motion through the air. Pain shot through my legs as I landed, bending my knees and rolling forward over the piles of rubble that broke my fall.
Sprinting forward, I ignored the pain throbbing through my body. I ignored the blood trickling down my face and pouring out of my gunshot wound.
The glass of the case protecting the old fire axe was shattered and littered on the floor as I pressed the button to open the automated sliding door. Wrapping a blood-soaked palm around the handle, I lifted it out of the case and away from the shards of glass that crunched beneath my feet.
The door opened to reveal the old, narrow tunnel. The lights flickered as I resumed my pace, running with the axe dangling at my side. Feeling more beast than man, I pushed my body to new limits.
The sounds of raised voices came through the opening, echoing off the tunnel walls.
“FUCKING BITCH!” Darragh roared with the voice pulled from my worst nightmare. The memory of him on the phone, speaking to my butterfly as if she belonged to him—
I’d make him choke on his own blood.
A cell phone clattered to the floor as the faint outline of bodies came into view, Aoife’s nails sinking into Darragh’s hands as he lifted her off her feet with his hands at her throat.
Irina swept in from behind him, launching herself onto his back and wrapping an elbow around the front of his throat. She squeezed, her face grimacing with the effort of cutting off his breath.