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"I can't just sit around," I protest, fighting against his arms, but he holds fast.
"I spoke to Mark," he says.
That makes me freeze. "When?" I ask, craning my head to look up at him.
"A few minutes ago, when I stepped outside," Theo replies, his tone slow and deliberate. "It's chaos out there. Word's spreading fast about what happened, and there's no getting ahead of it. By morning, every family in the city will know that Lucas has taken over.”
"And my family?" I whisper, hardly daring to ask. "My mom and my sister?”
"I've got eyes on the house," Theo replies. "No one's getting in there without my go-ahead. It will do, for now, but our numbers won't last for long.”
"What do you mean?”
"Lucas had my father's men in his pocket," Theo replies, his gray eyes steely. "If he can get the other dons to swear fealty to him, he'll have more resources than he knows what to do with. And I think we can both predict he won't take kindly to defectors.”
Slowly I raise my gaze to meet his, and I don’t like what I see in those silver orbs. “You’re saying people will start leaving?”
“Without the syndicate to hold them together, absolutely,” Theo replies. “I’d be surprised if they haven’t started already.”
I sink lower, feeling my composure collapsing. “And they’ll come for my family,” I say.
Theo doesn’t reply, but his silence says more than enough.
“What about Liam and Tristan?”
“They’ll be here,” he reiterates. “We have to stick to the plan.” He doesn’t bother to add that, if something’s happened to them, thereisno more plan. And if that’s the case, then we’re screwed already.
* * *
Theo keepsan eye on me as the hours slip away, no doubt wondering if I’ll try something stupid, and if he weren’t here to stop me, I probably would. Liam and Tristan are on my mind, along with all the things I haven’t had a chance to say to them, things I always thought I would have time for later. It’s funny how it takes your loved ones being in mortal danger to make you realize how much you love them in the first place.
Theo must understand this, because he doesn’t try to make me go to bed; I doubt he’ll be able to sleep much, either. I keep listening for distant gunshots, the screeching of car tires, screams of pain from the fighting, and even though the night is quiet, that somehow only makes it worse.
A text from Craig alerts me that he’s okay as I’m sitting in the fireplace room with a blanket wrapped around me and Theo stroking my hair:You really do bring trouble wherever you go, Emmerico.
I can’t even bring myself to laugh at his cantankerousness; I’m too busy firing off a string of frantic texts asking what became of the guys. I clutch my phone to my chest, my throat thick with worry, and when the reply comes—I don’t have anything on them. That bastard husband of yours ran me out of my own home—my heart sinks. Lucas reallyisgoing scorched-earth on the city’s underground, and without Victor to keep him in line, it won’t be long before there’s blood on the streets.
Just then, a pounding on the front door sets us both on our feet. I rush to answer it, but Theo is quicker. He puts his eye to the peephole, his guard clearly up, and then backs away, his eyes wide with shock. “It’s Liam and Tristan,” he says, his voice thick with relief.
“They’re alive?” I cry out. "They're here?” I rush to the door and throw it open, only to be pulled into the biggest embrace of my life. Liam and Tristan are bruised, bloody, and ragged, but they’re both still standing, and they’ve never looked happier to see me.
"Hey, Vivi," Liam murmurs as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Looks like you missed us.”
“I thought you were dead,” I whisper against Tristan’s chest. “I was starting to think I’d never see you again.”
Tristan wraps a protective arm around me and holds me like I’m his last lifeline. "It's okay," he says. "We're okay, Vivian.”
“What the hell happened?” I demand, my voice muffled by Liam’s muscled shoulder.
“Long story,” Liam says. "Let's just say that husband of yours really made us work for it.”
It's a joke, but tears well up in my eyes at the thought of how close they must have been to getting killed, and one look at the state of them tells me it was indeed a close shave: Tristan is clutching his wounded ribs, his shirt collar caked in blood from one of the cuts from the crash, which must have come open during their fight. Liam isn't looking much better, and is sporting a nasty-looking black eye, along with a makeshift bandage on his upper arm and an array of other bruises.
I cling to them both for dear life as Theo looks on with a rough smile. “I was just telling her you guys were tougher than anything that bastard can throw at you," he says as he joins the cluster hug, and for the first time since the meeting, surrounded by their sturdy, unyielding forms, I allow myself to relax. I didn't know it was possible to be this exhausted and this relieved at the same time.
"You were out of contact for a while," Theo remarks finally as we break apart. "How'd you manage to get out of there?”
Tristan winces, his blue eyes drifting to me and then back. “Let’s get inside first," he says, "and then we'll tell you everything.”
