Page 158 of Deceived Wrath

Debt or no debt, this ends now.

I failed Carly, and I failed my nieces, and that is a truth I have been running from for far too long. I should have fought harder instead of letting Joe shut me out. I should have clawed my way back into their lives instead of using my grief over Carly’s death as a crutch to excuse my inaction.

And now my choices have caught up with me.

There’s nowhere left to run except straight through the fire I’ve been avoiding, because there is still a chance, however small,that I can keep Scout safe. That I can protect Cormac. That my nieces won’t suffer the same way Carly did.

I’ll make sure of it.

Even if it costs me my life.

Chapter Thirty-Four

CORMAC

I’m grippingthe wheel so tightly my knuckles are white.

The car hums beneath me as I head across town, but I barely hear it. My mind is too consumed by Fiona.

It was a dick move to walk away from her like I did, but right now I don’t trust myself to keep calm.

Distance is the best thing for us, but it didn’t make it any easier to walk away.

Problem is if I let myself think about the hurt in her eyes for too long, I’ll turn this car around and go home. And that can’t happen. At least not until I find out what information Aiden has for me.

I swore I wouldn’t care, and yet I do. And I hate myself for letting things get this far. And the truth is, I don’t know whether I’m running from danger…or from her.

The city lights blur past my windows as I drive, the cool air blowing in from the cracked window doing nothing to settle the tension crawling under my skin.

Kieran’s words have been festering in my mind ever since he brought up his suspicions, burrowing deeper every time I try to dismiss them.

You don’t know anything.

I hate how easily a part of me latched onto that doubt, how quickly it turned into something poisonous threading through everything I thought I knew about Fiona.

I’m only a couple of blocks away from where I’m meant to be meeting Aiden when a prickling sensation spreads across the back of my neck.

I’ve learned to trust that feeling because it’s saved my life more times than I can count. So, I straighten in my seat and scan the mirrors.

That’s when I see them—a set of headlights following too closely behind me.

I tighten my grip on the wheel, forcing myself to breathe past the spike of adrenaline.

But as I pass the next intersection, everything happens all at once, and it’s all I can do to keep control of the car.

A sedan lunges out across my lane from the left, its tires screeching as it cuts me off, sealing off my escape before my brain fully registers what’s happening.

“Fuck—”

The windshield explodes.

The crack of the gunshot rings in my skull as shards of glass explode across my lap.

I duck down as my instincts take over, my heart slamming against my ribs as I try to think.

Another shot hits the roof, causing the car to shake.

I slam my foot on the gas and try to angle the wheel enough to break free.