Rourke grimaced.
“Your auntie wanted to spend the morning with family,” my uncle answered, clearly overhearing me. “Isn’t that right, love?” He placed his hand on her arm gently. Kiara jumped, startled out of her daze.
“Wha—uh, yes,” she stammered, and a single tear fell from her glossy eyes. “It’s important to stick together—lean on each other in times of loss. Sam…he was flawed, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t love him,” she sniffled.
I cast a concerned glance at Stefan. Shit, is he okay? I wondered if there was something I could do to help him through this. I was fine. Good riddance if you asked me, but that didn’t mean Samuel’s death hadn’t hurt others. My family hurting affected me.
Stefan’s brow puckered as he watched his sister. Sensing me staring at him, he looked at me. Reading my expression, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t compare me to your aunt.”
“Do you want to spend the day together? We could go somewhere for lunch? Or we could go on vacation? Disneyland is known to be the happiest place on earth. Lord knows we need that particular feeling by the truck load. California has wonderful weather year-round. We can walk along the beach and—”
“Maura,” Stefan said, interrupting my rambling by placing a hand over mine. “We’re not going to Disneyland.”
My shoulders slumped. “Talk about crushing a girl’s dreams. Way to go, Stefan,” I grumbled sourly.
He gave my hand a tiny squeeze, drawing my eyes to meet his. He gave me a quick reassuring look that told me he was fine, and I let it go.
“We couldn’t do anything today, anyways. Rourke was about to invite you to tag along with him on his special errand,” Stefan started.
“I—what?” Rourke stared at Stefan, confused, which Stefan returned with a pointed look. “Oh, yeah. Uh, I’m delivering a shipment to a buyer. Want to come?”
Real smooth, guys. Stefan was trying to pawn me off. The sad thing was, it was working. I was itching to know how we ran guns. “Sure.”
An Escalade and an unmarked utility van were waiting for me in the driveway when Rourke came to pick me up. I didn’t know what to wear to sell guns. Playing it safe, I went with business casual by choosing skin-tight black slacks, black peep-toe ankle boots, and a canary-yellow long sleeve blouse. I had no choice but to leave my hair down. There wasn’t enough makeup in the world to cover the dark, huge hickey Jamie had given me. Asshole.
I slipped on a leather jacket as I rushed towards the door. Asher was already waiting outside. Dean had drawn the short straw and had been sent upstairs to get me once Rourke had arrived.
“Finally,” Rourke griped. I flipped him off as I bounced down the steps leading to the cobblestone drive. Everyone started climbing into their assigned vehicle. Rourke hopped into the back of the Escalade. I slid in next to him and Dean sandwiched me between them, then shut the door. Asher rode shotgun, while Rourke’s enforcer drove. Two other guys who worked under Rourke followed us in the utility van that was carrying our merchandise.
“Heard you kissed the don,” Rourke said teasingly as we drove through downtown.
I was going to string up that goon by his toes and Stefan himself wouldn’t be able to stop me. “If it matters, he kissed me. Not that I need to explain myself.”
“How’d Jameson take it?”
“The fucker bit me,” I grumbled.
“No shit? Let me see?” He turned his body expectantly. I sighed and lifted my hair. He hissed, then chuckled. “He went all caveman on you. Good for him.”
“Hey!” I smacked him with the back of my hand on his shoulder. “I’m not—”
I didn’t get to finish chastising him. Loud popping and glass shattering startled us all. Blood exploded from the front seat, spraying on my face. There was a split second where Rourke’s green eyes met mine before hell ensued. His eyes moved from mine to look past me. Something made them widen and he went to reach for me, but a force slammed into the side of the car. Rourke’s hand never reached me. Not that he could prevent what was to come.
Time slowed down. I was thrown from my seat. The car felt like it was flying, suspending me in the air as if I were weightless. Then gravity happened. My body was tossed around like a rag doll, hitting and smacking everything hard. I tried to grab onto anything. Headrests, seatbelts, they all slipped through my fingers. My head slammed against a side window, breaking it, then everything went black. For how long, I didn’t know.
I came to face down on the ceiling in the trunk space. The Escalade was upside-down, windows shattered all around, leaving me lying on a bed of glass and debris. The whole world spun as my head redefined the word agony. The rest of me wasn’t any better off. That was my reality. Every inch of my body felt battered and bruised. I didn’t know where to start assessing the extent of my injuries.
“Maura!” someone called out to me.
A pathetic whimper was all I could respond with as words failed me.
“Damnit! Maura!” someone cursed. The sound of movement followed. I was rolled over, the pain forcing me to cry out. “It’s okay, cuz. I got you.” Rourke pulled my head and shoulders into his lap, eyes roaming over me in an assessing way. He looked like shit. Blood was splattered over his face. His cheek and ear were bleeding.
“Is she alive?!” Dean shouted, sounding panicked.
“Yeah!” Rourke yelled over his shoulder. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he said, staring down at me.
Rustling and glass crunching was followed by footsteps echoing outside the car. “Maura, can you grab my hand?”
I turned my head as much as I could, finding both Dean and Asher kneeling outside the car. Dean reached inside, hand held out for me. Thank fuck, they were alright. Gritting my teeth, I lifted my arm and grabbed his hand. Before he could start to pull me out, more popping came. Gunfire. Rourke threw his body on top of mine and we all hunkered down. Bullets flew around us. Loud thunks made the car shake. Rourke’s body jerked and he grunted above me. I knew I was hit when a sharp burning ignited on my side. I screamed into Rourke’s shoulder.
The squealing of tires and the sound of more gunfire seemed to cease the firing on our car. It was like we were in the middle of a war zone. Dean never let go of my hand and the moment the fire was taken off of us, he wasted no time in pulling me out of the car. I was grateful I was wearing a leather jacket because I could feel glass scraping underneath me. Once I was out, Asher took me from Dean and sat me up against the car. He put a gun in my hand, then stood guard while Dean reached back into the car to retrieve Rourke.
Watching them, I was shocked they were still standing. They were cut up, banged up, and covered in enough blood to cause concern. Asher’s nose was bleeding and he had a bunch of tiny cuts splashed across his face and neck. Blood was spilling like ribbons from a gash on Dean’s scalp, just above his left temple.
Looking around, I found we had crash landed at the edge of a parking garage. Peeking out at where the gunfire continued to go off, I saw the two guys in the utility van were giving us cover from what looked like an army of men. Three SUVs, similar to ours, were lined up like a wall for about twenty men to use for cover to shoot from. Our two guys weren’t going to be able to hold them off for long.