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“Are ye all right?”
“Aye, just a scratch.” Blood pours from the wound, but I ignore it because when I hear Cami scream, nothing else matters.
Jumping up, I desperately search for where she is. Some arsehole has her by the hair, dragging her toward the door. She’s fighting him desperately, but she won’t win.
She’s been kidnapped once already. It won’t happen again.
Cian covers me as I run and shoot at the man, and just as I raise my gun, ready to shoot, he drops to the ground with a thud. Cami’s face is slathered in blood, and as she blinks in shock, I turn to see who shot the cunt.
“Yeo!” I scream when I see Ethan holding the smoking gun.
“Ya didn’t think I’d let ya have all the fun,” he quips, covering me as I make a run for Cami.
My men soon spill in, and it’s on.
“Oh my God!” she cries, trying to look at my shoulder. “You’ve been shot.”
“I’m fine,” I assure her, checking her over for injuries. Thankfully, she’s okay. “I made a promise to ya.”
“Yes, you did. Now go kill those fuckers so we can go home.”
“I love it when ya talk dirty.” I deliver a frantic kiss to her lips, a promise of things to come because now…it’s game on.
The factory is covered in a blanket of smoke, and as my boots slide in the spilled blood, I holler in exhilaration. Sean is dead, as are the remaining men who were loyal to the Doyles. All that’s left is us.
The gunfire ceases, and the sight of pure carnality gets me fucking hard.
Thisis my home. The violence and bloodshed are a part of me, just as my painted face will forever be.
My men slap one another on the back because we’ve won this war for now, but there will be more—there will always be more. No matter if I want out, there isn’t an out for me. And I don’t want there to be.
Which is why, covered in blood, I walk to where Alek stands, smoking his cigar.
He has a way of being involved without even lifting a finger. But the difference between him and those before him is that he gives people a choice. If I choose to walk away, he would accept my choice.
But we both know that’s not happening.
“Looks like you got your wish after all,” he states calmly. “You got your war, and you won. But I never doubted you wouldn’t. You—”
But I am done listening to him talk, and I make that clear when I punch him straight in the face.
“D’ya ever shut up?” I sigh, shaking out my fist because the fucker has a hard head. “Y’ve got yerself a deal. And this time, no crossin’ yer fingers, ya hear?”
Alek smirks, cupping his bleeding nose. “Shall we shake on it?”
Extending my bloody palm, I look at Alek because the choice is his, and when he accepts the offering, I smirk. “Dead on.”
The devil within adjusts his crown as he sits on his throne because finally…he has come home.
“Are ya sure a ten-year wedding anniversary gift is tin or aluminum?” Shay asks his uncle Ethan because this sounds like a load of shite.
“Aye,” Ethan replies, quickly wrapping the small box with gold wrapping paper. “Its strength is supposed to symbolize the marriage that stood the test of time…or something naff like that. That’s what Eva told me, anyway.”
Shay snorts in laughter. “I’m pretty sure Dad is goin’ to boke.”
Ethan finishes wrapping the gift in total agreement with Shay. It’s absolutely probable that Puck Kelly is going to call them out for being two big softies, but it’s not every day you celebrate a milestone such as this.
In their world, being alive for ten years is a rarity, but Puck did what no one else could.
