Page 214
“Move.”
Shay and I follow them across the yard as Dane and Rafe come out of the office.
Rafe still has his coffee mug in one hand, but he drops it when he sees Shay’s gun. It hits the concrete and shatters beside his boots.
“What the fuck’s happening?” Dane reaches for his own, then swears. “Fuck. I must’ve left it at that girl’s place.”
“We’re surrounded,” Shay says, already dialing another number. “Get armed.”
Rafe and Dane disappear into the office for spare weapons while Saint marches Keira toward the ladders.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
He points to the hayloft. “You’re going up there.”
“I’m not hiding while you’re in danger.” She stares up at him and steels her spine. “Give me a gun.”
Saint checks his clip and hands her his. “Take mine. Now get up the ladder and use that if any of those fuckers comes near ya.”
I shove my hand into my jeans pocket and mutter a curse. I left my phone on the charger in the house.
“Keira,” I call out. “Have you got your phone with ya?”
Her brows pinch together, and she shakes her head, looking over at me. “It’s in the cabin.”
Fuck, I haven’t memorized Fionn’s number.
Horses stamp in their stalls as the rising rumble of engines outside unsettles them.
I dart over to the barn doors where Shay is and take a look at the vehicles heading our way in numbers.
“How long before more of our men get here?” I ask.
Shay runs a hand down his face. “Maybe ten minutes, or longer.”
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter, turning from the icy wind as Saint drags Keira to the bottom of wooden ladders.
“I need you to listen to me,” he says, tucking hair behind her ears. “Stay outta sight.”
Her eyes shine as she looks at the gun in her hand. “What about you?”
“I’ve got a cabinet full of guns.” He cups the back of her neck and brings his forehead down to hers. “Get up those steps, lock the hatch and stay there until someone comes for ya.”
“Someone?” Her voice rasps. “What do you mean, someone? You’ll come and get me.”
A vehicle roars closer, tires tearing over the gravel beyond the main gates.
I press a hand to my necklace when Saint kisses her.
He holds her face between his hands and claims her lips in a way that makes me feel how difficult this decision is for him. When he steps away, Keira clutches the front of his Sherpa jacket.
“You’ll come back for me.”
“I love you.”
Her face crumples. “Saint—”
“I love you,” he repeats, pressing one last kiss to her forehead. “Now get up the fucking steps.”
