Page 31 of His Kidnapped Irish Mafia Virgin

“I’ll cover you,” he said.

“No. We move together,” I said.

Before he could say anything, I leaned out from behind the machine and shot a few times toward the upper walkway. I wasn’t trying to hit anyone; I just wanted to make them take cover. The short pause that followed was all we needed. Paddy started running and I stayed close behind him. We ran across the area while bullets flew through the space we’d been in just a few seconds before.

The distance wasn’t far, but it felt like it took forever. I thought for sure I’d get shot in the back before we reached the door, but somehow we kept moving. My shoulder hurt with every step and blood ran down my arm, but I ignored it. Paddy hit the steel door and pushed it open with his shoulder, and I followed him through it.

I kicked the door shut behind us just as another round of bullets hit the metal. The sound of the bullets hitting the door was like someone was hammering on it. We found ourselves in a corridor that led through the back of the warehouse, and we kept running until we saw daylight.

When we finally got outside, we didn’t stop until we were several buildings away from the warehouse. Nobody was following us. That bothered me more than if they were.

“They’re letting us go,” Paddy said quietly.

“No.” I kept looking at the building. “They already got what they wanted.” He was quiet for a moment before asking the question I’d been asking myself since the first shot was fired.

“What did they want?” he asked. I looked at the blood on my hand before answering.

“They wanted to see if we’d take the bait, how we’d react, how many men we’d bring, and how far we would go to protect Nora.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nora

I woke up thinking I would hear Liam inside the house. I lay in bed for a bit, waiting to hear his footsteps or his voice coming from downstairs, but the house was really quiet.

The empty space beside me bothered me more than I’d thought it would.

I got out of bed, put on one of Liam’s shirts, and went downstairs. The kitchen smelled like coffee, and there was a note on the counter by the coffee machine.

Had work to deal with. Eat something. I’ll be back before you have time to start missing me. L

I laughed to myself. It was funny how confident he was. I read the note again. It was silly that something this simple could make me smile so much. I made some coffee and toast. I wasn’t really hungry. I kept looking out the window, thinking I might see Liam’s SUV.

When I finished breakfast, I needed something to do. There were some books in the living room, so I picked one up.

After twenty minutes, I realized I hadn’t read anything. My eyes were on the page, but my mind was elsewhere. I wondered where Liam was and what he was doing. I wondered if it had something to do with the investigation. Just thinking about it made me feel weird inside. I closed the book.

“So much for distracting yourself.” I went back to the kitchen, washed my coffee cup, and cleaned the counter. I checked my phone. There were no new messages. Then I went upstairs. At one point I stood by the window watching the rain clouds, and my mind started to wander.

I remembered what Victor had taught me: waiting meant something bad was about to happen.

But this wasn’t the same thing, I told myself. Liam wasn’t Victor. That should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. I’d started to think that nothing bad could happen when Liam was around, and now that thought scared me.

I’d spent a year learning not to depend on anyone. Liam had changed that in just a few days. I didn’t know if that made me feel safer or more in danger…maybe both. Then I heard a car engine. It was far away at first, but it got louder and louder, so I went downstairs.

I felt relieved. Then I saw Liam as he was getting out of the SUV. Something was wrong. His arm was close to his body. He was trying to hide that he was hurt. Then I saw the blood.

Oh my God, what happened to him?

I didn’t remember crossing the distance between us. One moment I was standing on the porch staring at the blood staining Liam’s sleeve, and the next I was in front of him with both hands already on his arm, searching frantically for the wound as though seeing it for myself might somehow make it less real.

My heart was pounding so hard that I could barely hear anything else, and when my fingers brushed the damp fabric of his shirt, a fresh wave of panic swept through me before I could stop it. “Liam!”

“I’m fine.” He said it so calmly that, under any other circumstances, I might have believed him. Instead, I looked from his face to the blood, then back at his eyes, and felt something inside me turn.

“No, you’re not. You’re bleeding.”

“It looks worse than it is. It’s only a graze.”