And there’s nobody to protect her.
Oh fuck. Oh fuckingfuck.
I push Luke away and get to my feet. I grab his shoulder and yank him forward. “Help whoever you can. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I mean, I will, but?—“
“Keep them alive, damn it. Don’t fall apart now. Can you do this?”
“I’ll try.”
“Good.” I shove him toward the nearest body. I don’t want to leave before I know Finn’s okay, but I don’t see him in the mass of flesh and ruined lives, and Regan’s all alone back home.
Responsibility toward the family wars with my need to protect my wife.
I rush out of the room, sprinting into the night, out toward my car.
CHAPTER 19
REGAN
Ipull a small loaf of banana bread from the oven and drop it onto the stove. I stand back and admire the light brown crust and the smell of fresh baking.
God, I love this stuff.
It works, almost every time, and it’s forgiving. Too much flour? No worries! Too few bananas? It won’t be great, but hey, it’ll still be bread. Good enough is good enough and that’s what I like so much about it.
I’m never wrong.
Even tonight, when I’m bored out of my mind, I can find some simple pleasure in taking raw ingredients and turning them into something good.
Idly, I wonder if Liam will eat any.
Probably not. I doubt that man’s ever so much as looked at a carb in his life based on the state of his body.
Unless he’s one of those lucky bastards who can eat whatever they want.
I’m humming to myself, cleaning up the dirty dishes, when the door rattles. I dry my hands. “Liam? Is that you?” He’s not supposed to be back yet. There’s a party tonight, a gathering of all the men at one of the Whelan family’s establishments.
I walk to the front hall, a towel over my shoulder, when the door slams open.
“What the?—“
I take a step back, hand flying to my chest, as Liam storms inside.
“Regan,” he says, snapping my name out like it’s an attack. He slams the door behind him, closes the bolt, and slides in the chain.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
He turns and comes at me. I yelp, stumbling backward, but he grabs me and pulls me into him. His hands move over my body like he’s making sure I’m not wounded, and holy crap, a surge of desire and adrenaline pours into my core. My mouth hangs open and I can’t quite make words form.
That’s when I notice the blood.
“Stay right here,” he snarls, releasing me and striding into the apartment.
“Liam? What’s happening? Are you hurt?”
I ignore his command and follow. He’s manically searching the place, peeking behind the couch, checking all the closets, like he’s trying to play a game of psychopath hide-and-seek.
