Irish Crown

by Nashoda Rose

  Curran turned and walked toward the entrance. He stepped off the small ledge, his hand on the door that would swing shut and seal my fate. “Beg me for forgiveness, Evangeline, and I’ll consider a less painful journey for you.”

  I swallowed the bile in my throat and met his eyes. “Fuck you.”

  His eyes narrowed and thin lips pursed as he slammed the container door shut.

  Cold. Steady. Emotionless.

  That was what I needed. The detachment. It was the only way I’d survive this. Because if I thought about Eva in that bastard’s hands, I’d lose it. And I couldn’t afford to lose it again.

  I’d let emotions control me before.

  Revenge fed me. Blinded me.

  And it destroyed me.

  “Hey, man, you good?” Deck asked.

  It wasn’t a question as to whether I was good or not, because he knew damn well I wasn’t good. He was asking if I was going to be able to keep my shit contained.

  And Deck had every right to be concerned. He’d been there. He dragged my ass out of that cage barely conscious.

  “You get me a visa to stay?” I asked.

  The corner of his mouth tugged up. “Yeah.”

  “Then I’m good.” Because Eva was mine and she wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was I.

  We were at Carrick Shipping watching the crane load containers onto the ship and unable to get on board without causing a mad minute and risking Eva’s life.

  Six fuckin’ hours she’d been gone.

  “She’s in one of those fuckin’ containers,” I said. There were at least a thousand containers on that ship, and another five hundred or so on land. “We need to search the yellow ones, and we have to expect that he’s likely ready for us.”

  Deck nodded. “Good chance he’ll rig them.”

  I nodded. Open the wrong container door and we were likely to be blown into a million pieces. “It’s been his M.O. And he has nothing to lose. He’s done here. His identity. His business.”

  Eva. Fuck. Where the hell did he plan on taking her? Did he plan to keep her or sell her?

  He knew I wouldn’t risk her life, but he also knew I wouldn’t let him take her out of the country without one hell of a fight. He’d tried before. He’d kidnapped Bria, the girl who was under my protection. He thought he could get away and sell her. He was wrong. And he was wrong if he thought he could take Eva from me.

  We crouched beside a container near the cargo ship, waiting for the cover of darkness. But if the ship pulled anchor, we’d have to go in without it.

  Ernie was on the roof of the warehouse with a sniper rifle, and Tyler was west of the shipping yard with Connor checking the containers that hadn’t been loaded. Kai and Vic were to the east doing the same thing.

  “Boss. Found a row of live yellow containers. Maybe twenty,” Tyler’s voice vibrated in the earpiece. “Bombs are triggered to the latches.”

  “Can you disarm them?” Deck asked.

  “Take me some time,” Tyler replied.

  “How much time?” Deck asked.

  “Thirty, maybe.”

  I glanced at Deck. “Gut says she’s already on that ship. They’re a decoy.”

  “And if they aren’t and he blows them up the moment he sees us?”

  I clenched my jaw and pursed my lips. “My gut’s not wrong, Deck. She’s on the ship. This is personal to him, he’d make it personal.”

  “Leave them,” Deck ordered Tyler. “Circle back and meet up with us.”

  “Roger that,” Tyler replied.

  “Heads up,” Ernie said in the earpiece. “One target on the ramp. Dockworkers’ cleared out.”

  I lightly placed my hand on Deck’s shoulder and moved past him.

  I crept between the shipping containers toward the stern of the ship where the steel ramp onto the ship was located.

  The ship’s engine rumbled as it prepared to leave port. But it sure as fuck wasn’t leaving without me on it. I was good at finding people, but if Eva disappeared in the cruel underworld of human trafficking, it would be like searching for a needle at the bottom of the fuckin’ ocean.

  I peered around a stack of five wooden crates.

  One man guarded the ramp. I could easily take him out, but it would have to be silent. One mistake and this would all go to shit.

  He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his front shirt pocket and took one out, placing it between his lips. A click and snap of his lighter before a flame illuminated his craggily weathered face.

  He shifted out of the direction of the wind and cupped his hands around the flame. .

  I moved toward him.

  He sucked in a long inhale, then exhaled, and smoke billowed all around him.

  I took him out fast, hard and silent. My hands snapping his neck before he was able to emit a warning. His body sagged like a broken doll in my hold. I dragged him behind the crates and took his gun, shoving it in the back of my jeans.

  “Clear,” I said into the mouthpiece. “Going in.”

  Ernie warned, “Two cars approaching.”

  Fuck. “I’m going.” I wasn’t losing this chance. I kept low and ran up the ramp, crouching behind the railing. “On board.”

  A car door slammed and there was a murmur of voices, but I was too far away to hear what was being said.

  I peered over the side and saw an SUV and a black van parked in front of the ramp. I counted ten men.

  The driver got out and opened the back door.

  My blood ran cold, and everything inside me stilled.

  Curran.

  It was as if I stood in that cage again.

  Fighting the consuming darkness as sights and sounds faded around me.

  Nothing existed except my opponent.

  But there was one difference. This time I wanted to live.

  And that made me deadlier than I’d ever been.

  I sat with my back against the door next to the hairline crack that teased me with the hope of freedom. The vibration of the ship’s engine idling was a constant reminder that I’d soon disappear.

  Would I become another statistic?

  No. I was good at surviving. I’d survive him and whatever awaited me. And I’d fight until the end.

  I’d never give up. On me. On Deaglan.

  But that hint of hope was tested as minutes became hours. I’d tried to cut through the ropes on my wrists by rubbing them against a metal beam edge, but all I managed to do was cut into my wrists. I was numb to the pain. Even the ache in my jaw from Curran’s fist had vanished.

  It was thirst that ruled my every thought as my saliva dried up and my mouth felt as if it had a layer of sawdust in it. My only relief was that the sweltering heat had eased.

  The adrenaline pumping through my body faded and I lay on my side with my knees curled up to my chest and closed my eyes.

  I had no idea how long I slept, if it was one minute or five hours, but I woke to the sound of metal scraping metal as the latch lifted. I darted upright and scrambled to my feet, using the wall as a prop.

  The door swung open and a wave of cool night air filtered in to me.

  A bulking man with a shaved head stood in the doorway holding two bottles of water. In my head, my feet were already running toward him, and it took every ounce of willpower to not dive for them, crack the lids, and chug back the cool water. Not that I was even capable of it with my hands tied behind my back.

  “Come here,” he ordered.

  I cautiously walked toward him. Cautiously because my legs shook and I was afraid they’d give out.

  He tossed the two bottles of water onto the floor. My eyes followed them as they rolled into the wall before swaying to a stop. I looked at the bulky man again, then to the gun on his right hip, then the knife strapped to his tree-trunk thigh.

  The water bottles told me that he wasn’t taking me out of here. No, he was going to lock me in here. Days. Weeks. I didn’t know how long, and that scared me more than anything.

  I knew I had
one chance at this. If I failed, I’d either die or suffer in this container for however long.

  When I was within reach of him, he grabbed my arm and yanked me out of my prison. I stumbled on the ledge and he hauled me upright, fingers biting into my bicep. I kept my head down in submission, but from beneath the shield of my hair, I scanned the perimeter.

  I was surrounded by a maze of cargo containers. There was no sign of anyone with him and the only light offered was from the half moon.

  “Turn around,” he ordered.

  I did as he asked, and his hands jerked on the blood-soaked ropes as he untied them.

  Tears pooled in my eyes when he tore the rough fibers from my raw skin. Circulation rushed into my hands, and pins and needles erupted with frenzy. I rubbed my hands together, desperate to get as much feeling back in them as fast as possible.

  “Get settled in. You have a long ride.” He pushed me toward the container.

  I tripped on the ledge, but this time on purpose.

  He bent to grab my arm, and I reacted.

  I ploughed my elbow back into his chin as hard as I could. It was a move that Evan had taught us in our self-defense class. A jolt of electricity shot through my arm on impact. I heard the distinct crack of bone and the sound of his feet staggering backward.

  He wailed in fury. “Bitch,” he shouted.

  I leapt to my feet and ran.

  I had no idea where I was going, but I had the advantage that it was dark and I was in a maze of cargo containers.

  His footsteps pounded behind me. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

  My legs threatened to give way as they trembled with each step, but the adrenaline pushed me forward as I constantly switched directions, hoping to lose him.

  I stopped and pressed my back against a container, covering my mouth with my hands to conceal my ragged breathing. I had no clue where I was going. God, I could be running in circles. I could run right back into his arms.

  I held my breath, listening for his footsteps.

  Nothing.

  I lowered my hands from my mouth and crept alongside a container. I stopped and peered around the corner. It was dark, but I couldn’t see or hear him.

  I noiselessly weaved through the maze, hesitating to listen every few seconds. But it wasn’t his footsteps I heard. It was the slosh of water lapping against the ship’s hull.

  My heart leapt. Escape. I could jump. I could jump into the water. He’d probably hear me, but by then it would be too late.

  I moved quickly toward the sound.

  Toward freedom.

  When my eyes hit the railing of the ship, a wave of relief swept through me because it was hope. Jumping into the water was risky because I had no idea how far it was to the water’s surface. But if the ship left dock, all hope would be lost.

  I ran.

  My hands curled around the railing and I heaved myself up. I couldn’t see the water below, but I heard it. And that was enough.

  I jumped.

  A hand latched onto my arm. I flailed against the side of the ship.

  “No. Let me go.”

  He hauled me back up and tossed me over the railing. I landed hard on the deck floor.

  “Don’t move, bitch.” I stared into the barrel of his gun.

  I didn’t think, I reacted. I wasn’t going to be locked up in that container again.

  I swung my leg back toward his kneecap, but this time he was ready for me and jumped out of the way before his hand snagged a wad of my hair and yanked me to my feet.

  My hands shot to my head as agonizing pain ripped through my scalp. I fell back against his broad chest with his gun pressed into my spine.

  “Got her, boss” he said.

  A crackle sounded on his radio, “Bring her to me.”

  I swallowed the bile at the sound of Curran’s voice.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He yanked on my hair. “Walk.”

  But I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Not while I still had breath in my lungs.

  I flung my head back into his face, but he shifted to the side. “Jesus. Stupid bitch.”

  He kicked me in the back of the knee and my head snapped as I fell forward to the ground.

  He reached down and grabbed a fistful of my hair. I tried to get to my feet, but he was already walking and dragging me behind him.

  I twisted and flailed as I tried to get free. “You bastard,” I yelled.

  He ignored me as he kept walking and I saw my chance at freedom slowly slip away. Tears of pain mixed with desperation tipped over the rims of my eyes and glided down my cheeks.

  He dragged me across the deck.

  I kicked and screamed. Fingernails scraping at his arms. He jerked on my hair and I sucked in a lungful of air at the excruciating pain in my scalp.

  My heart stopped and my body froze.

  I stopped struggling as a familiar scent drifted toward me.

  Deaglan.

  My eyes frantically searched the darkness for him. Was it false hope? Was I imagining him? No, I’d never forget his scent. It was part of me.

  When my eyes found his on top of the container, he put his finger to his lips with a shake of his head. I swallowed and choked on the sob that threatened to escape.

  Deaglan. Oh God, Deaglan.

  He found me.

  Deaglan found me.

  He silently moved parallel with us on top of the container.

  I watched. Waited. My breath locked in my throat.

  His eyes met mine with warning. There was a brief nod.

  I curled my hands into fists, ready.

  Deaglan’s dark shadow pounced on my captor from above.

  The two crashed to the floor and rolled.

  The pressure on my scalp released at the same time my captor’s gun slid across the floor. I scrambled away, diving for it.

  The men crashed into the container emitting a loud clang.

  My fingers curled around the gun. I flipped over and held it out with both hands.

  But I knew if I fired it would alert the entire ship.

  The two rolled and fought against one another.

  Blood sprayed in a fan across the side of the container as fists flew. Bulky guy went for his knife and I was about to yell a warning to Deaglan when he slammed his fist into the guy’s throat.

  Bulky guy’s eyes widened and both hands went to his neck as he struggled to breathe. Deaglan didn’t let up. He punched him in the side of the head and the bulk crumbled to the ground in a motionless heap.

  Deaglan towered over him, grabbed him by the neck and jerked with a twist, snapping his neck.

  I stared at the lifeless body on the floor, then to Deaglan.

  “Eva.”

  He crouched in front of me and reached for the gun. “Give me the gun, baby.” He eased it out of my trembling grasp and tossed it over the side.

  My eyes slid to his and that’s when everything collapsed around me. “Deaglan,” I choked out. “You found me.”

  He half grinned with his busted lip. “Told you I’m good at my job.”

  I threw my arms around his neck.

  With one arm he held me tight to him as he stood, bringing me with him. He kissed the top of my head. “Babe, I’d hold you forever, but we need to get the fuck off this ship.”

  I released him and nodded.

  He slid his hand in mine and squeezed as he spoke into his headpiece. “Eva’s safe. We need a distraction to get off this tin can.”

  I couldn’t hear the response, but it was comforting to know Deaglan wasn’t here alone. “All hell is going to break loose,” he said as he guided me between the containers. “Need you to stay close.”

  “Okay.”

  He pressed me up against the wall of a container, his body shielding mine just as a loud blast exploded into the air.

  I jerked with the blast, and my heart jumped into my throat. Deaglan kept me locked to him for several seconds before he pulled back and tilted to look at me. “You good?�
��

  I nodded. “Good.”

  He kissed me briefly on the lips. “Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  I glanced at the thick, black cloud of smoke filtering into the sky as we ran. He stopped several times when voices and running footsteps drew close before we ran again, weaving in and out of the cargo.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. He grabbed me around the waist and shoved me behind a towering steel beam. “Deck. Ramp is a no go. We need an exit.”

  His eyes hit mine. Hard. Cold. Unyielding. There was no uncertainty in him. No fear. He was completely in control.

  I jolted as a spattering of gunfire erupted.

  “Stern,” Deaglan said. “Water. Ten seconds.” He tightened his hold on my hand and vaulted to the right. I stumbled after him as we ran toward the railing. He glanced over his shoulder as he stopped. “You need to jump. Connor is in the water. He’ll help you get clear.”

  My eyes widened. “What about you?”

  His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I need to end this, Eva.”

  I shook my head, hand sliding from his grasp. He was going after Curran. “No. Deaglan, no. We jump together.”

  He reached for me, arm hooking my waist. “No time to argue. Go.”

  There was a thunder of footsteps and shouts.

  I knew Deaglan. I knew he needed to do this for him as much as for me, but I wouldn’t leave him. “Deaglan. I’m not leaving you.”

  He grabbed me around the waist to lift me over the railing. “Push away from the ship,” he ordered.

  “One move and she dies,” Curran’s voice vibrated behind us.

  “Put her down,” Curran ordered.

  Deaglan’s hands tensed on my waist as he slowly lowered me to the deck. “Be ready,” he whispered under his breath.

  I stiffened, but kept my face emotionless as I faced Curran.

  He waved his gun at me. “Come here, Evangeline.”

  Deaglan’s hands curled into fists as he stepped in front of me. “That’s not happening. Do you think I came alone, Curran? That I’d take the chance you’d escape me again.”

  Curran tensed and his brows furrowed. “You forget. I’m the one with a gun. Evangeline, do as your told,” he barked.