The woman’s head snapped up. Her skin was covered in a layer of blood and half of her face was curtained by messy hair. Only one eye was visible. The color reminded me of gray clouds that blocked out the sun before it rained. Her one striking eye was wide, and it was staring right at me like nothing else mattered in the world. Just me.
It was unsettling to the point that I took a step back, bumping into my father. The back of my body molded to his legs. With the gun still pointed at her, my arm began to shake.
My father put his hand on my shoulder. The warmth it exuded helped ease the panic bubbling inside me. “Remember the rules of the game, Maura. Do you remember what I said about fear?”
I nodded slightly. “Fear is a tool, not a shackle.”
“Very good,” he said, squeezing my shoulder gently. “Now, find your strength and show the enemy they don’t hold any power over you.”
I closed my eyes to find the strength he spoke of, as if it might be another entity inside of me. I couldn’t find it and had to settle for taking in a deep breath. When I exhaled, my trembling lessened, my racing heart slowed, and I opened my eyes with confidence.
“That’s it,” he assured.
“You twisted bastard!” the woman snarled at him. “You never had the balls to pull the trigger yourself! You don’t deserve her, Stefan! She belongs to me!”
My free hand that was resting on my father’s leg fisted the fabric of his slacks. “Daddy.” My voice quivered. I didn’t like how she spoke to him. No one talked to him like that. Not unless they wanted to suffer.
“Like I’d ever allow my daughter to be around a crack whore who tried to sell her at six weeks old for another fix,” my father seethed. “And don’t think for one second that I actually believe you’re here for her. We both know it’s money that you’re really after. When I paid you to stay away, I warned you if you ever showed up here again or ever made your presence known to Maura, I’d make you regret it.”
“This isn’t about money. I know I made mistakes in the past, but I’m clean now. She deserves to know me and she’s old enough to decide if that’s what she wants,” the woman argued.
“I think that’s the best idea your coke-muddled brain has ever come up with. We’ll let Maura decide.” My father knelt down behind me. “Maura, do you want to stay with Daddy, or do you want to go away with this strange woman?”
That seemed like the stupidest question he’d ever asked me, and I opened my mouth to answer him, but he cut me off. “If you choose to stay with me, you are to aim this gun at her and pull the trigger because if you don’t, she’ll keep coming back.”
I glanced back at the scary woman, then back at my father. “Is she bad?”
“She’s not good to us,” he answered, and I caught sadness in his eyes again.
“Did she hurt you, Daddy?” I whispered.
“She hurt me by trying to hurt you,” he answered.
That was all I needed to hear. I aimed the gun with both hands and widened my stance like he and my uncle Conor had taught me.
The woman’s eye widened again. “Maura, sweetie, put the gun down. I’m your—”
I pulled the trigger.
The bullet shot out and her body fell backward. The recoil from the gun made me stagger and lose my footing. My father caught me and took the gun from my hands, before turning me away from the carnage to face him. His lips moved, but no words reached my ears.
Then the scene of my nightmare faded to nothing and I woke up.
CHAPTER 2
I awoke to a lot of pain and found myself lying in a hospital bed. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. The bright fluorescent lights stung my eyes and I had to squint in order to look around. To my surprise I was surrounded by a bunch of mobsters. Most of whom were asleep in uncomfortable looking chairs around the bed I was lying in. Dean was the only one awake. He was standing by the window, watching the rain pebble on the glass with a distant look in his eyes. He had a bandage on his forehead and bruises along his jawline.
How’d he get hurt?
Did it have to do with why I’m lying in a hospital bed?
I found myself unable to look away from Dean’s battered face. Flashes came and went: blood running down the side of his face from a really bad cut by his temple and him reaching out for me to take his hand. My whole body tensed, unsettled by the nagging feeling that I recognized what I was seeing.
My gaze traveled to the sleeping Asher sitting next to him, who was just as bandaged up and bruised, and my memories of the accident and fighting off the Aryans rushed back to me. I scanned the rest of the room. Louie was asleep with his arm propped up on the arm rest and his head lying on his fist. Jamie was sitting in a chair to my left. He had a death grip on my hand and was sleeping soundlessly with his head resting on my thigh. Stefan was sitting on my right, also asleep.
I squeezed Jamie’s hand. His eyes shot open, immediately meeting mine. A second passed before his eyes widened and he sat up. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching toward me to swipe the tears away from my cheek with his thumb.
My voice came out low and raspy. “Rourke?”
Jamie squeezed my hand. “Alive and in a room down the hall.”
I released the breath I hadn't known I was holding and closed my eyes. Jamie lifted my hand and I opened my eyes just in time to see him bring the back of it to his lips. He let everything he was feeling come to the surface. His exhausted yet relieved eyes conveyed it all. This mobster loved me.
I moved my hand from his lips to cup his cheek and tried to show him how sorry I was for the pain my cowardice had put us through.
His eyes read mine before he leaned forward. His kiss was gentle and chaste but filled with so much love that it blanketed my soul with warmth.
Breaking our kiss, he rested his forehead lightly against mine. We stayed like that, basking in the comfort our closeness exuded, until everyone in the room started to wake. They each perked up when their eyes landed on me. A hand gently closed around my right wrist, making me turn my head toward Stefan. The small movement caused my entire skull to explode with searing pain.
I groaned and closed my eyes tightly.
“I’ll go get the nurse,” Dean volunteered and left the room.
Slowly, I attempted to turn toward Stefan. His attire was…relaxed, with his dress shirt untucked, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and the collar unbuttoned. His tie and jacket were hanging over the back of his chair. Dark bags were starting to form under his eyes. “You almost look human.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “As opposed to what?”
“Indestructible. Powerful. The big bad boss,” I answered with a sad smile. Was it strange that I held onto moments like these, where he couldn’t hide what he truly felt behind an unreadable facade, as if they were gold?
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.
I huffed. Really? No “how are you feeling?” Or “are you okay?” I shouldn’t have been surprised. “We were attacked,” I started, sounding annoyed. “They shot Rourke’s enforcer and rammed into the side of our car. I wasn’t wearing my seat belt. Rourke tried to grab me, but it was too late.” The car rolling and me being thrown all over the place like a rag doll replayed behind my eyes. The memory made my head smart and I reached up to touch my temple as if to ease the pain, only to find that my head was bandaged.