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“You look exactly like him!”
“Tinks!” Rubbing my hand over my face, I inhale, reminding myself she is new to this. “It’s handled, love. You weren’t there, you don’t know jack. Okay?”
“Okay,” she murmurs and seeks my comfort again, which I give to her, needing it myself.
“It’s all good, okay?”
Summer nods understandingly. “What can I do to help?”
I look at her intently and feel a pang of guilt. She doesn’t need to get involved in this. But at the same time, her dedication and loyalty are admirable.
“Just be careful,” I say finally, the words coming out gruffly. “You don’t have to involve yourself in this mess. I’m keeping your name well away from this shitshow. It’s too dangerous.”
Summer’s expression turns stubborn. “I’m not going anywhere,” she declares firmly. “I want to help you and Cathal in any way I can.”
I nod reluctantly, knowing that arguing with her is pointless. Her loyalty is unshakeable, and besides, she has proven herself capable of handling herself under pressure.
“Okay,” I concede finally, knowing it’s just a placatory comment. “But promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will,” she promises, a small smile tugging at her lips.
With that settled, I turn my attention back to our next move.
Letting her go, I glare at my phone. The silence is deafening. Dialing Luke again, when he answers, I growl, “Dig deeper into Cathal’s recent business dealings. Follow the money trail, see if it leads to anyone with motive.”
“Already on it.”
My mind races through the possibilities. This hit required resources and planning. Who would be bold enough to come after him so brazenly?
“Reach out to our contacts on the streets too in rival gangs. Someone out there knows something useful. Money is no object, pay whatever it takes. And get eyes on all our safe houses and front businesses. If this was a direct attack on Cathal, there could be more to come. No one lets their guard down.” I end the call with a growl of frustration.
The waiting is unbearable, this lack of control. I thrive on being three steps ahead, but now I’m stumbling in the dark. For Cathal’s sake, I need to restore order, and quickly.
Pacing the living room, I sift through my memories, looking for any clue as to who was behind this. Have I made too many enemies over the years? Overplayed my hand? Doesn’t matter now. All that matters is retaliation.
When I find the bastards responsible, there will be nowhere left for them to hide. I will rain down hellfire on their entire operation. If it’s a competing gang behind this, I’ll crush them completely.
The first priority is securing our position and preventing further losses. Merging my and Thal’s gangs is imperative. But that won’t be enough. We need to make a statement, show them we are not to be fucked with.
But make no mistake, vengeance is coming. They will regret ever tangling with me and mine. As the night wears on, my mind is consumed with thoughts of revenge. I can’t rest until the bastard responsible for this attack is brought to justice. I glance at Summer, who has fallen asleep on the couch with her head resting on a cushion. The sight of her peaceful sleeping face brings a small smile to my lips, reminding me that there’s more to fight for than just vengeance.
I take a deep breath and sit down next to her, placing a protective arm around her as I continue my train of thought. I need to keep my head focused and clear if I’m going to find the person behind this attack. And that means revisiting everyone who has ever crossed Thal or myself.
The hunt is on, and when we strike back, it will be swift and merciless. For now, I wait, rage simmering beneath a veneer of icy control. Patience is key, but our enemies’ days are numbered. Their downfall is inevitable.
4
SUMMER
It’s late. I fell asleep on the couch, but it didn’t last long. I can’t sleep for fear of what happens next. I sit perched on the edge of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Cathal’s chest as he rests. My heart aches at seeing him like this - battered, bandaged, and looking so vulnerable. My usual stoic protector is now the one who needs protecting.
Gently, I brush a strand of hair from his forehead, my touch delicate as if he might shatter. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. After everything he’s endured tonight, he needs time to heal, though I know Cathal’s pride will chafe at such weakness.
In the other room, I can hear Ciarán on yet another terse phone call, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage. He’s been working nonstop to identify the one responsible for the bombing, but so far, no solid leads. I know it’s driving him mad. Ciarán thrives on control and decisive action. This waiting game does not suit him.
Still, he makes an effort to check on me periodically, his gruff voice softening slightly when he asks how I’m holding up. He even brought me a cup of tea earlier. It was gross. Too strong and sweet, but it was made in his awkward but well-meaning way, so I drank it without complaint.
Ciarán wears his tough exterior like armor, but I know there’s more to him underneath. The way he looks at Cathal with that fierce protectiveness, their bond runs deeper than I can even imagine. Whoever hurt Thal will face Ciarán’s wrath.
