The Final Hour (Dublin Nights Book 5)

by Brittney Sahin

  The words were like a dagger to the chest.

  Thoughts of Emilia standing before me in nothing but her “knickers,” as she’d assumed I called them, had a flood of warmth chasing up my spine and heating my body. She’d looked so damn beautiful I’d wanted to run my calloused palms over her soft, tan flesh all night. Steal her into my arms and never let go.

  I’d had to fight to keep my composure as she confidently faced me, her back pinned against the vanity counter. It was hard to be so close to her without wanting to kiss her everywhere. Discover her taste.

  And, of course, her tattoo included the Italian word for loyalty. She was loyal to her father. To the Calibrisi family name. She was the last living Calibrisi, and that in itself had to be a huge burden to carry.

  I’d done my best to focus on the task of examining her wound, one she should never have gotten, but the woman was not only stubborn, she was a lone wolf. She may have been tough, but if she didn’t slow down, she’d wind up getting herself killed. And I couldn’t handle the idea of anything ever happening to her.

  Fate would be cruel like that. Bring Emilia to me only to take her away.

  I’d come close to losing loved ones before but, thankfully, I’d been spared that heartache so far.

  Da’s heart attack. Anna nearly dying during labor, which would have been the death of Adam.

  I spun in a three-sixty, feeling a wee bit crazy. I wasn’t sure which way to bloody go, but I had to get away from the music. It made me feel way too damn much.

  I started walking, more like fleeing the music, but slowed a minute later at the sight of a storefront. Blue letters wrapped in red Christmas lights read Sara-Grace’s Place.

  A lone light appeared to be on in the store, but the place was closed. I’d planned on walking by, just going on my merry feckin’ way, but the sound of a scream from inside jolted me.

  I whipped my focus to the door and hurried to grab the handle. Unlocked, thank God.

  Another cry from farther inside had me moving quickly, navigating around Santa’s sleigh full of mannequins in lingerie.

  “Please, just wait. He’ll be here,” a woman begged, her voice full of fear.

  It was Sara or one of her employees. But who was she pleading with?

  “No,” she screamed as I followed the gruff, distinctive sounds of a scuffle coming from the back room.

  I hung back around the corner of the hallway, then stole a look into the office. A big guy in all black had Sara up against the wall, her arms pinned over her head with one large hand as she struggled against him. In his other hand was a blade, pushed against her hip. The same damn spot Emilia had just been cut.

  Sara shifted her head to the side as if sensing another presence. Her eyes connected with mine, and I brought my finger to my lips while stalking closer to the man as quietly as possible.

  He bit out a word I was fairly certain was German for bitch.

  Before I had a chance to surprise him, he spun around.

  The man snarled and lunged at me, but my League training kicked into gear without a thought. I sprang back and out of reach of the blade he swiped through the air.

  At least Sara was free. “Run,” I yelled, but she remained frozen against the wall, most likely terrified by the scene unfolding.

  “You’re the wrong McGregor,” the man hissed when his eyes met mine.

  How the hell did he know me? Then again, my face was relatively recognizable throughout the city. And most lowlifes were beginning to fear the McGregor name now that we’d aligned with The League.

  But why the wrong McGregor? It had me off guard, and the punch I sent after blocking his next jab of the knife missed my intended target, his jaw.

  He stepped back and cocked his head as if I had a bloody clue what was going on right now. Tall, dark hair. A jagged scar along his right cheek. Gnarly teeth. Yeah, I would’ve remembered him if we’d met before.

  I charged him, ignoring the crazy look in his eyes, and shoved him against the wall, knocking a picture to the floor. I quickly snapped his arm around behind his back, not able to break it because he had tree trunks for arms, but he dropped the knife as a result.

  A body shot, then elbow next. An uppercut to his abdomen followed.

  It was like hitting steel. I’d needed to go harder. Faster. Use my speed to outmaneuver him before I lost control and things went arseways.

  I ducked under a wild swing to get behind him. Then I brought my forearm around his thick throat, thankful I was the taller man and threw all my strength into trying to cut off his circulation.

  I brought my back to the wall for support and kept him in a headlock.

  Sara surprised me by approaching us with a lamp and bashing it across his face, then backed away quickly when it crashed to the floor.

  It took a minute, but I got the bloke to the ground like I was Adam inside the ring. Once on top of him, I served punch after punch.

  I unleashed. Taking all of my pent-up frustrations out on this guy.

  “Sean.”

  The sound of my name pushed past the buzzing in my ears, but just barely.

  “Sean.” It was louder this time. “You’re going to kill him.” It was Sara, and she was yelling now.

  I stopped my hand before connecting with his jaw again and left it hovering over his face.

  “Are you okay?” I tossed a look back to find her covering her mouth with both palms, her features twisted in disgust as she looked at the damage I’d done to the man’s face.

  I’d most likely broken his nose as well as his jaw. And there was blood staining the once polished beige floors.

  I had two options: Garda or a League cleanup crew. The police would ask me too many questions, but I doubted I’d be able to convince Sara to keep this night to herself if League members arrived to clean up this garbage.

  I checked for a pulse. Thankfully, I found one. And that’s when I noticed my hands were covered in blood.

  I slowly rose and looked over at Sara. Her pink lips were rounded in shock, matching her wide eyes.

  With a sob, she abruptly threw herself at me, flinging her arms around my neck, whispering a tearful thank you alongside muffled cries. “What . . . are you . . . doing here? Did Ethan . . . send you?”

  I ran a hand up and down her back to soothe her.

  If I hadn’t been too angry to drive, well, I didn’t want to think about what this arsehole might have done to her.

  “Ethan? My brother?” I asked once her comment registered.

  “I meant to tell you on the street Wednesday, but it felt awkward at the time,” she said, remaining attached to me, her face buried against my chest.

  “Tell me what?”

  “You’re my hero, Sean,” she said instead of answering me.

  I was no hero.

  But what was her connection to my younger brother? And what was the practically dead guy’s connection to my family?

  “Sara, oh God. Sara.”

  The familiar sound of my brother’s voice had me peeling Sara away from my body and looking up to see Ethan hurrying toward us. “What-what are you doing here?” he asked me when she turned toward him. He circled his hands around her waist and held on to her as if they were . . . a couple?

  As she sobbed once again, this time into Ethan’s chest, he rested his chin on top of her head and stared in shock at the motionless body on the floor.

  My brother’s time in New York City had changed him somewhat. Hardened him. His green eyes were sharper. His once lean frame had more muscle on it based on how his trousers and black jumper fit.

  He’d been thrust into Cole’s old position, which came with a lot more responsibility than he wanted, but he’d done a good job. He wasn’t happy doing the corporate thing, though. I could feel it in his calls and texts. Ethan would rather be singing in a pub than wearing a suit.

  I blinked a few times, trying to wrap my head around the fact that a few minutes ago, I’d been having my own pathetic pity party while walk
ing down the street, and now I was looking at a thug I’d nearly killed.

  “I was walking by and heard a scream,” I explained. “What are you doing here?”

  I’d picked Ethan up from the airport this afternoon. Home for the holidays since he worked out of our New York office with my uncle. He wasn’t due in until Monday, but he’d called me up last night and said he was coming home early and asked if I could pick him up.

  Now I understood why.

  “I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I was scared I wouldn’t get here in time after Sara called. She was freaking out.” It was obvious Ethan feared he was on the verge of losing her the way he’d lost his music. Taken away. Stripped from him because of his duties as a McGregor.

  “Why’d she phone you and not the Garda? Clearly, you’re dating, but if some guy breaks into your store, you call the police.” I crouched to check the man’s pockets, searching for his mobile and ID. Nothing.

  If Sara was in danger, and she was dating my brother, that meant Ethan was at risk, too.

  “I-I can’t call the Garda,” Sara said in a shaky voice. Strands of hair had strayed from her blonde ponytail. Her eye makeup was smeared beneath her blue eyes. Her skin pale as if she might toss her dinner. She kept her focus on Ethan, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “I think you both need to come clean and tell me what’s going on. I can help. And I have people who can clean this mess up. Give me a second.”

  “Don’t worry,” I overheard Ethan tell her as I went into the hall.

  I rinsed the blood from my hands in the employee bathroom before making the call to the city’s local League cleanup crew member.

  “You should have let me help you. I don’t know why you kept this from me,” Ethan said, his tone soft.

  After ending the call, I stayed in the hall, feeling bad about eavesdropping on Ethan and Sara, but in case they didn’t open up to me, I needed to know what was going on.

  “I didn’t want to put you in danger,” she responded around quick breaths, fear hanging on with a death grip in her tone.

  “You asked me to change my flight and come back early. Was this why?” Ethan asked her, and I decided to go ahead and join them.

  “Someone will be here soon to remove this guy,” I promised them. And interrogate him.

  “How’d you do that to him?” Sara pointed to the man on the ground, still motionless. “And who did you just call?”

  “He recognized me. He knew I wasn’t you,” I said to Ethan, then turned to Sara. “What kind of trouble are you in?” I held up a palm, sensing she was about to lie. “This wasn’t a robbery. Or an attempted assault.”

  I stepped around the body and perched a hip against her desk as I studied them across from me. Ethan hooked his arm around her waist and held her tight to his side.

  “First of all, I planned on telling you that Sara and I are dating. But since you two used to date, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it,” my brother said, and now I realized what it was that Sara had started to tell me on the street the other day.

  “Sean didn’t even remember me when we bumped into each other earlier this week,” Sara informed Ethan as if I weren’t in the room, then turned her attention to me. “Ethan and I met in a bar in New York four months ago. Ethan remembered me from when you and I were together, and we sort of hit it off.”

  This was so damn strange.

  “No offense,” I began, “but I don’t need the details about your love life. I approve. Happy for you both.” I pointed to the man on the floor, his eyes still shut. “What I do need to know is why he’s here? And why’d he expect Ethan?”

  “After he showed up, I phoned Ethan. He listened to the call. I couldn’t tell the Garda because I owe his boss money. He was here to collect it, said he’d kill me if I didn’t give it to him.” She turned toward Ethan and took hold of his hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but things haven’t been easy. I needed financial help.”

  “And let me guess, you didn’t go the bank route?” I tensed at the news I suspected she was about to lay on us.

  “The banks turned me down.” She faced me, tears in her eyes. “A designer I know connected me with one of her models she said would be able to help. Her husband is uber-wealthy, like you all, and he helps out other models and designers from time to time.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to tell me the model was Bridgette Krause?” I gritted out.

  Sara’s eyebrows rose on her forehead as if someone had just yanked on her ponytail.

  Well . . . feck. Another instance of fate screwing with me? “Why’d they come looking for the money tonight?” I demanded, assuming in her stunned silence I’d been right about Bridgette. “What happened?”

  “I’m really behind on payments.” She frowned. “I asked until the weekend to come up with the money. Since, um, Bridgette would be at an event in Scotland this weekend, I offered to hand it off to her there. I was told to skip the show, though, and then this guy showed up tonight,” Sara finished her ramble with a shaky breath.

  “He’s probably one of Krause’s people,” I said. “You never did get the money, I assume?”

  “I was . . .” Sara peered at Ethan. “I was going to ask you for it. I know we haven’t been dating too long, and I have no right to ask, but I was worried they’d kill me. And then when this guy showed up tonight, I told him Ethan would pay back my debt.”

  My jaw tightened, and I closed my eyes. “Did you tell anyone Ethan’s name before tonight? Is there a chance Peter Krause knows you two are together?”

  The Alliance. The damn Alliance. I’d wanted my kid brother as far away from those cocksuckers as possible, but despite all of our efforts to protect him, he was being pulled in.

  “I didn’t mention Ethan until tonight. And that guy,” she said while motioning to the man on the floor, “didn’t have a chance to make any calls before you showed up.”

  “Good.” I let a deep breath escape through my nose and opened my eyes. “How much do you owe?”

  “Three hundred thousand U.S. dollars,” she responded.

  “That was what you owed tonight, I’m guessing. What is the total to get you debt-free from these guys?” I had to assume Sara had no idea she’d gotten into bed with one of the worst criminal groups in the world. And yet, I was struggling to believe this was all a coincidence.

  “Nine hundred thousand U.S. dollars.” Her lips pinched with disappointment, and Ethan unhanded her as if he’d been burned. Was he feeling used? Had she targeted him because of his name?

  I’d have to figure that out later. For now, I needed to get The Alliance off Sara’s back and my brother out of harm’s way.

  “I’m going to the show tomorrow in Edinburgh. I’ll need your tickets.” I held a hand up to keep her from protesting. “I don’t want you near either of the Krauses. Peter or his wife. You have no idea the kind of people you’re dealing with,” I said, stepping closer to them. Frustration burning through me.

  “You won’t tell her about tonight, will you? That you were here, and I mentioned her?” She worried her lip between her teeth.

  “Why would I talk to her?” I asked, unsure if I caught a flash of hesitation in her eyes. “No, I don’t want to endanger you further. Or Ethan.” I grimaced. “And I’ll give you the money. All of it. Don’t tell them where you got it, okay?” I tried to get a read on her, but all I saw was a terrified woman. “You transfer the money to your contact and tell them you’re done.” I’d be tracing the funds to verify the story, but she didn’t need to know that. “Understood?”

  She nodded and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “I need a word with my brother.” I waited for her to leave, checked to make sure the man on the floor had no chance of getting up anytime soon, then approached my brother. “What the feck, Ethan?”

  “I’m sorry.” His hands darted through his dark hair, his green eyes pinned on me.

  “W
hat were you going to do when you got here? Take the guy to the bank in the middle of the night and withdraw three hundred grand?”

  “I-I didn’t know I was coming here to help pay her debt. She just called and said I had to come alone, and she was in trouble.”

  I set a finger on his chest. “You call me first. You got it? If something is wrong, you call me. Or Cole. You don’t get involved in shite like this. We’re trying to keep you safe. Don’t you get that?”

  “I had no clue,” he said, his tone rife with confusion.

  “And if she’s using you?” I whispered, leaning in closer in case Sara was out in the hall.

  “She’s not. I love her. And if anyone is giving her the money, it’s me.”

  Love? Sure. I whirled away from him, wanting to deck the love right out of my little brother. “It’s family money, Ethan. What’s the difference?” I cursed. “I want you to stay away from her. The people she got herself involved with are dangerous.”

  “You can’t ask me to do that. When Anna was in trouble, Adam protected her.”

  “Adam put her in danger. This is different.”

  “Sara has no family. I won’t abandon her, and if you really think I’d just walk away to protect myself, you’re out of your bloody mind.” He turned to make a hasty exit, but I grabbed him by the arm, redirecting his focus.

  “Ethan,” I seethed, my muscles locking tight. Every part of me on edge. “The people she owes money to . . . this man on the ground,” I said while angling my head, “they’re Alliance.”

  “All the more reason I watch out for her, then.” He jerked out of my grasp.

  “Damn it, then at least stay at Sebastian’s hotel. You’ll be safe there.”

  He gave a hesitant nod, then left, and I reached for my mobile and called up Sebastian.

  “Hey,” I began straight away when he answered, “we’ve got a problem.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sean

  Edinburgh, Scotland

  A stunning blue sky hung over the limo as the driver circled a roundabout, heading for the hotel. I hadn’t spent all that much time in Scotland over the years, even though Ma’s grandfather was Scottish—born in Glasgow and moved to Dublin as a child. We did have some distant cousins still in the country, the Kincaids, but I’d only met them once on a family vacation as a kid.