“That’s between me and him to work out,” Ronan says. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
One of Ronan’s guys has a gun to the back of the other Russian’s head. Eamon looks between us, like a trapped rat. Which is really appropriate.
“You’ve got no way out,” I say. “No fucking cavalry to rescue you from your lies and your greed.”
Cillian’s voice blares out. “Black SUV, coming in hot. Get the fuck out now.”
Almost instantly, the wall opposite the loading dock explodes inward. A black SUV crashes through the roll-up door. Shipping containers fly across the space, debris scattered everywhere. Thedoors open and another group of thug Russians pour out, guns in hand.
Fuck. Kozlov’s second wave.
I grab Adriana and pull her behind a concrete pillar, but she won’t stay hidden.
“This is my war, too,” she says through gritted teeth.
Bullets tear through the air, ricocheting off the walls. Ronan’s men fire. Cillian and I take out as many as we can from our position. And Adriana… she’s right there with us. She never cowers, never wavers, not even in the face of death.
I fucking love her more than ever right now.
“Where the hell is Eamon?” Cillian grunts.
I jerk my head around. His Russian bodyguards are down but he’s nowhere in sight.
“Fuck!” I scan the chaos again. Nothing. He’s gone.
“We need to move,” Adriana grabs my arm and shoves me toward the opposite end of the warehouse. “More will come and we’re running out of ammunition.”
She’s right. Kozlov soldiers keep pushing in. One of Ronan’s guys goes down in the fray, clutching his leg.
“Ronan,” I yell. “Which exit?”
“Side door, twenty yards left,” he shouts back over the exploding bullets. “Get out now. We’ll hold them off.”
I grab her hand and run hard, my calf muscles tensing with every step.
We weave through the gunfire, covering our heads and staying as low to the ground as possible. A bullet whizzes past my ear in a blast of heat. Another punches through a crate, spraying splinters in our path.
Ten feet to the door. Then five.
I kick it open and we’re out. Balmy brine-infused air of the harbor consumes me. Sirens screech in the distance.
Cillian tears out of the warehouse behind us, his feet pounding the cracked concrete as he passes us and skids to astop next to my truck. His shirt sleeve is caked with blood, and he’s bent over, his chest heaving.
“C, you hit?” I ask, slowing down next to him.
“Nah, it barely grazed me.” He looks at Adriana. “You okay?”
“I’m alive.”
Ronan’s voice comes over my earpiece, “We’re pulling out. Lost two guys, and the Kozlovs are falling back. No sign of Dad anywhere. He must’ve gotten away.”
My pulse pounds hard. Of course he did. The bastard always has a way out. Same shit, different day. Always has zero regard for anyone but himself.
“Let’s get back to Gavin’s,” I say. “We need to regroup.”
The sirens are louder now. “Ronan, let’s go. The cops are on their way,” I say over the comms.
I turn to Adriana. She’s standing apart from us, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the harbor. She’s still got the gun.
