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Ronald pushed and pushed. “Quiet!”
Maybe the Manzanis were out front, but maybe they weren’t. She had to take the chance; Conn would never scream for himself.
“No! No!” she objected, struggling. “Where are we going?”
Her father wrestled her through another door. “Out the back. Go!”
The pulse of her blood pumped fast and hot. “The back?”
“A passage that takes us far from the house before we hit the streets. Your McDades will never know we’re gone. Ire will bleed out while his men watch the sun rise.”
Bleed out. Her man didn’t have long. With no one there to tend to him or keep him talking, he’d pass out and then…
Why had she answered the phone? Why had she asked him to join her?
Connel “Ire” McDade was a formidable monolith, or he had been until he met her. In him, she’d found her purpose. Her truth. Her need. Now that was gone, life faded from her soul as it would be fading from him. What was the future without Conn lighting her path? Pointless. Futile. Miserable. She didn’t want tomorrow, not if it meant waking without him, waking lonely. All of this was on her. What had she done?
