This time, however, two teens were sitting quietly in the cages. They leaned against the bars toward each other, their fingers touching at the edges of their cells. Sloan’s heart jumped in his throat. Ame.
Oliver strode out of the office, pacing in front of Ame and Dakota. “Up and at ‘em, kids. Time for a bite to eat. It’s time to take a little field trip to Northern Ireland. Your parents haven’t moved an inch since they arrived in London, Princess. It’ll teach them not to set law enforcement on me. They wrapped themselves up in red tape instead.” His laughter echoed off the metal walls.
“My dad is going to catch you,” Ame warned.
“When it’s too late, sweetheart. Now eat up.” He tossed a sandwich into her cage then one in Dakota’s.
Sloan felt his heart burn in fury as he raised his rifle and pointed it toward the scene. “Gordon?” he whispered.
He felt the older Irishman press tight against him. “Wait. Wait…”
Oliver turned his back to them. Gordon lifted his own gun. “Now!”
The three men rushed across the wood plank floor toward Oliver and the children. Ame squealed in surprise. Oliver spun around toward the commotion, raising his hands in surrender.
“Well, that was a surprise. Look who’s here, Ame. It’s Daddy,” Oliver mocked.
“Open the bloody cages and let them out before I put a bullet in your brain,” Sloan warned.
“Do I look stupid?” Oliver countered. “There’s going to be a bullet in my brain regardless. Where’s Mommy? What rafter do you have her hanging from? That beauty can hit a flea from a mile away. I bet she’s a wildcat between the sheets. Did I get her hot and bothered with my texts? I digress. Let me summon my men.”
The windows of the office shattered, torn apart by a barrage of gunfire. Ame and Dakota screamed as they curled into little balls, huddled together against the bars. The three men scurried for cover behind the boxes that surrounded the covered pit in the center of the building. Each stack had to be at least ten feet high. The cages sat on the other side of the hole in the cement floor, pressed against the wall outside the office. Sloan glanced around as best he could. Oliver stood between Sam and Chad, each toting an assault rifle discharging a full belt of ammunition. Could he return fire and risk hitting Ame or Dakota?
The answer was simple. No.
“Abbey, it’s up to you,” Sloan encouraged through the Bluetooth.
“On it.” Sloan could hear several rifle shots then the crack of wood. Abbey’s voice came through again. It was laced with horror.
“What the hell are you doing? Sloan, what was this place?”
“A garage, I think. Why?”
“Put it down, Oliver. Please. Don’t do it. Let the kids free.”
“I would love to, my pet,” Oliver shouted over the gunfire. “But the mission has failed. And my employer’s number one rule. If the mission fails, clean up the mess. Leave no trace behind. It’s unfortunate really, I was so looking forward to getting to know you intimately. Slowly. For weeks.”
“You bastard,” Abbey spat. “Sloan!” There was silence. Sloan heard the roar of fire as the heat hit him. He spun around to see the inferno erupt from the pit below, flames licking up past the wood floor as it began to devour it. A small wall of fire slowly grew between him and the children.
Sloan caught sight of Oliver in a fit of laughter as he, Chad and Sam slipped away through the mountains of boxes. The cartons closest to the pit began to burn. “Abbey, what happened?”
“Oliver struck a match, stomped a hole through the wood and tossed it inside. What’s in there?”
“Oil. Gasoline. Can you free them?”
“Hold on.” Sloan heard two shots fire then the clang of metal. Dakota pushed the door open and sprang out, stutter stepping as his toes touched the wood. He turned back to see Ame still huddled in her cage.
“Sloan, I can’t see the lock. Dakota is in the way.”
“Dakota, come here,” Sloan shouted.
Dakota shot one last look at Ame before he sprinted across the burning planks. A second later two more shots rang out over the blaze. The lock to Ame’s cage bounced across the cement floor until it plummeted into the burning pit.
Sloan watched several more pieces of wood incinerate. Only two boards remained and the flames were making quick work of them. “Ame, come on! Now!”
“Ame, sweetheart. You have to go now!” Abbey chimed in.
Ame crawled from her cage and stepped onto the wood plank. Looking at the flames flickering around her she froze in place, her face turning ghostly white.
“Ame, now!” Sloan commanded as his heart seized in his chest.
She looked at him and shook her head. He charged forward toward the remnant of the floor.
Gordon quickly yanked him back. “No. Your weight will snap those boards and you’ll both end up in there.”
“Sloan, I’ll get her,” Abbey volunteered.
Sloan stared at his daughter helplessly. “You can’t. By the time you reach her you’ll both be trapped.”
“Send her the way Oliver went.”
Liam’s voice cracked through the earpiece. “Can’t, lass. I thought of that. The bastard bolted the door closed.”
“Sloan, there’s a gap behind these crates over here,” Abbey advised.
Sloan looked through the gaze to her then followed to where she pointed. She continued. “From where I see, if you can shove them into the fire, it’ll clear enough space to get by.”
“It’ll add fuel to the blaze,” Gordon warned.
“It’s a chance we have to take. Come on, old man. Help me push. Liam, cover the door so we’re not ambushed.”
“Aye, boy. Get to it.”
Sloan and Gordon set their rifles on a nearby crate and sprinted to the crates. Bracing himself, Sloan gave everything he had into shoving the crates. They barely budged. He looked up as he felt something brush against him. Dakota dropped his shoulder into the crate as if he was on the offensive line.
“Come on, Mr. O’Riley,” Dakota grunted as he pushed again.
Sloan nodded with a smile and shoved his entire mass into the boxes. Slowly they scooted across the smooth floor. Gordon grabbed both of them as the boxes teetered then plummeted into the flames. The inferno consumed the dry material. The heat was unbearable.
Dakota wrenched free of Gordon’s grasp. With one last glance he ran away from the men around the blazing pit to Ame.
Whatever coaxing words he spoke were quick. Suddenly, Ame nodded, and clinging to him, followed him carefully around the fire.
Sloan knew he wasn’t the only one hardly breathing as the adults watched Dakota lead Ame around the flames. He listened to Abbey softly praying over the earpiece. He mouthed her words with her.
It seemed like an eternity before Ame and Dakota were standing beside them. Gordon coughed violently as he nudged them toward the door. “Now. Out. Abigail?”
Sloan heard Abbey’s long exhale. “I’ll meet you outside.”
“Hurry, luv,” Sloan stumbled. He raced after Gordon who had already shepherded the children outside. The cool night breeze hit his hot face as chaos swarmed around him. Firefighters shouting commands raced past him back into the inferno. A thought struck Sloan like lightning. Those cages. Better call Dunham for another favor. He flipped out his cell for the quick call. As he did so, his eyes locked on an image. Dakota held Ame tight in his arms, his face buried in the curve of her neck. Ame hugged him back just as hard. Sloan frowned at the scene. “What the bloody…?”
“What was that?” Dunham demanded through the phone.
“What? Nothing,” Sloan grumbled.
“Do you need something, O’Riley?”
“Yes. Check the first responders feed in Brownsville, New York.”
“Already have. What am I explaining?”
“Two cages.”
“Done. Take your daughter home.”
Sloan watched the embracing teens. “Planning on it.” He ended t
he call, shoving the phone in his pocket.
Before he could approach them, Gordon grasped his arm. Sloan wrenched his arm free and huffed at the older Irishman.
“Let them be,” Gordon advised softly.
“His hands need to get off my daughter. She’s too young…”
“She’s not, Sloan. Amelia is fourteen. She’s growing up into a beautiful, mature young woman. Think about that video taken of her at school. You’ve raised her well. In four years she will be heading to college. It’s time now to start letting her go so she can make her own choices. That includes boys, lad.”
“You never had children. How in the bloody hell…”
“I beg to differ. I may have not fathered a child but I raised one.” Gordon winked at him. “And trust me, Ame is an angel compared to the hellion I was responsible for.” He glanced at Liam who wandered over to them. “The day the All Blacks came to watch you play rugby was one of the hardest of my life. The thought you would be living in Australia without me tore at me for weeks. But you were grown up. It was time for you to spread your wings.”
Sloan couldn’t help but chuckle. “You still went with me when we fled Belfast.”
“Well, circumstances changed. You were a wanted man at that point. I wasn’t going to have to protect you from adoring rugby fans. I did from the British and terrorists.”
The men turned at the high pitched squeal. Abbey ran up the street to the children, tugging them both in her arms. After holding them tight for a moment, she frantically checked each one over.
“All right. You’d better go save them from the mother hen,” Liam chuckled.
“Meant to catch her too,” Gordon muttered.
Sloan laughed as he jogged to his family. Still amused, he gently peeled his wife off Ame and Dakota, hugging her tight to him. Abbey squeezed him tight as she buried her face in his chest.
“We’ve got her, luv. Great job.”
The only response he received was a sniffle. Rubbing her back, Sloan looked up into a pair of ice blue eyes identical to his own. His breath caught in his throat.
“Daddy?” Ame squeaked.
Sloan stretched his arm out to her. “Come here, Angel.”
Ame rushed into his arms, tucking herself between him and Abbey. He gripped them close to him as tears burned his eyes. Without thinking, he managed to get a hand on Dakota’s shoulder and tucked him into the family embrace. He didn’t think he held anything so tight before in his life. For that moment the world faded away. It was just the four of them. And life couldn’t be more perfect.
»»•««
“You failed.”
“But, sir. We didn’t anticipate…”
The Butcher paced across charcoal grey marbled floor of his office. “Anticipate what?”
Oliver’s voice echoed from the speaker phone. “That they would split up like that.”
“How many times did I tell you not to underestimate Sloan O’Riley, Oliver?” He stopped in front of the wall length window that stretched from floor to ceiling. The life of Dublin, Ireland bustled below him on the drizzly, grey afternoon. “And the mission hasn’t failed yet. Meet me in Belfast like planned. We still move on.”
“Sir…” Oliver’s voice whined through the phone.
“Are you afraid I’m going to kill you? Give me a reason I shouldn’t.”
“Well, sir…”
“I told you not to harm a single member of the O’Riley family. Instead you trapped Sloan, Amelia, and Abigail in there. Do you know if they made it out alive?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, lucky for you, that young man you abducted with Amelia rescued her. Other than being a little singed and suffering minor smoke inhalation, everyone is all right. I need you for one more job. Fail me again and I will kill you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. But…why Sloan O’Riley? Why do you want him?”
“He has a certain set of skills that would be beneficial to me. And I need more than just him. I need his Abigail’s sharpshooting skills. I need his entire team. He had a vested interest in this war.”
“He might join the other side,” Oliver hinted.
The Butcher crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He most assuredly will not. I’m more concerned he’ll take a neutral position. If he does he’ll lose what he holds the most precious in this world. That I have no doubt of. You nearly cost him that, you imbecile.”
“I understand he would sacrifice himself for Ame. But what does a fourteen-year-old girl have to do with this?”
“Not the girl, Oliver. Her mother. If Sloan doesn’t join my side, he’ll lose Abigail. I can guarantee it. And it won’t be by my hand.”
“But they have the girl. How do you plan to lure him to you?”
The Butcher chuckled as he rounded his desk. Pushing a silver-brushed ebony lock of hair from his face, he picked up a couple of photos from his desk. Gazing at them for one last second, he dropped them into an envelope. “Pure curiosity. And sweet revenge. He’ll come. Return here immediately and we’ll move on. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” There was a click then silence.
The Butcher huffed a sigh as he studied the envelope in his hand. Finally. I’ve been waiting decades for this. He pulled the tab from the back and sealed it closed. Setting it momentarily on his desk to tug his overcoat on, he tucked it under his arm. He strode through his massive luxury apartment until he reached his front door. He glanced at the address as he waited for the elevator. Strange. For their home being in a rural area, they still have a Minneapolis address. America for you, I suppose. He was pulled from his thoughts by the opening elevator door. Stepping inside, he waited for the door to close again.
The Butcher didn’t have to walk far from the door before he was called. A homeless man sat against the wall of the apartment building, his shirt and pants ragged and full of holes. At his feet sat a metal bucket. He reached out to the Butcher. “Pocket change, sir, for a bite to eat.”
“A job would get you a bite to eat,” the Butcher fired back.
“Aye, sir. But none will hire me. I’m too fast for them.”
The Butcher glanced down the sidewalk one direction then the other. Tugging his wallet from his pocket, he pulled out a couple Euros. He let the envelope slip into the bucket with the money. The Butcher looked the beggar in the eye. “Tomorrow morning, no later.”
“Delivering it myself, sir. There will be no doubt.”
The Butcher offered him a small smile. “Good. Thank you, Tom.”
“Of course, sir. Happy to serve.”
The Butcher strolled away as Tom made a plea to another passerby. He whistled contentedly to himself. The plan was in action once again. Time for some whiskey. Traveling a block further, he tugged on the tavern door and slipped inside. The bartender nodded as he passed by. The Butcher slipped into a booth hidden in the shadows in the corner of the bar. I live in the shadows now. Settling on the cracked brown leather, he thought of his past troubled by its ghosts. I should have died instead of them. His heart twisted as he thought of Sloan. Soon, lad. Soon my biggest, darkest lie will be revealed. Soon you’ll know the truth. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Because I cannot forgive myself.
Chapter Ten
Sloan jolted awake to the sound of a child’s scream then a fit of giggles. He rubbed his eyes exhausted. He couldn’t be happier to be home. But I could really use a little more sleep.
He turned toward Abbey’s side of their large bed, finding it empty. They arrived in Minneapolis so late at night the only thing they were able to do was take Dakota home to his parents. Their overwhelming joy at having their child back warmed his heart and they couldn’t stop thanking Sloan and Abbey for delivering him safe. Unfortunately, it left no time for the intimacy Sloan still craved. Instead, when he and Abbey stepped foot in their bedroom they collapsed on their bed and fell fast asleep.
He stretched then climbed from under the sheets and shuffled to
the shower. Groaning under the stream of hot water, he took his time scrubbing his skin. Toweling dry, he pulled a pair of pajama pants from his mahogany dresser and tugged them on. He smiled as he twisted the doorknob and stepped into the hallway.
A chorus of “daddy” greeted Sloan’s ears as he descended the staircase. Children raced to him to hug him. He chuckled. Now he knew what rock stars felt like. And my fans are far more adorable.
Nudging his children along with him, he wandered into the kitchen. Abbey and Ame smiled brightly at him from their stools at the breakfast bar. Ame scooted her seat back then bounced off. She wrapped her arms tight around her father’s waist, hugging him.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered.
Sloan wrapped his arms around her, pressing a long, affectionate kiss to the top of her head. “Nothing to thank me for, Angel. The only place you belong is safe with your family. I’m just happy it’s over.”
“Me too.”
“How did you sleep?”
“Wonderful.”
“Ame, come play with me,” Aubrey pleaded, clenching her hands open and closed to get her attention.
“Of course, Sis.” Ame flashed Sloan a quick grin before disappearing around the corner of the kitchen. Aubrey giggled ecstatically as she towed her sister away.
Sloan rounded the breakfast bar, kissing Abbey gently. He gave her a sensual smirk. “You still owe me another night. I’d prefer you naked and beneath me.”
“Trust me. I haven’t forgotten.” Abbey took a sip of coffee. “Is it really over?”
“Is what over?”
“The Butcher. Are you through with him?”
Sloan’s answer was cut off by the ringing of the doorbell. He frowned at Abbey. Wordlessly, she answered him with a shrug. Storming from the kitchen, he crossed the foyer for the front door. Just before he answered it, he glanced back to find Abbey behind him. His eyes roamed her figure. A pair of boxer shorts and a tank top cloaked with a silk bathrobe hanging open. Adequate. And easy to remove shortly. With a nod to her, he opened the door.
Family Ties Page 12
