by KB Winters
“Why my dad?” I finally managed to ask, my voice coming out cracked and broken. “Why? I thought you two were friends, I thought of you as family—”
“Ava, you don’t understand,” he said. “There’s so much you don’t know. Couldn’t possibly know.”
“What don’t I know? I saw it with my own eyes, you shot my dad and left him for dead,” I cried. “I saw it happen.”
Donal looked over at his son, and a pained look crossed over his face. It was an expression of genuine anguish that touched his face and for some reason, I felt guilty for bringing it upon him. But I wasn’t sure if it was the knowledge that Flynn was in love with a woman whose father he’d killed or what it might be, but something had upset the old man. And upset him deeply.
“Michael Finley was my good friend, but he was also a traitor,” Donal said, his voice strained. “He’s the one who turned us over to the cops. I regret what I had to do more than you know. But it had to be done to protect the greater good.”
“Because he was a snitch? That was reason enough to kill your friend?” I asked.
My hands were balled up at my side, and a dark, abiding rage stole through me. I so badly wanted to punch something—to hurt someone like I’d hurt for so many years.
Donal turned his dark eyes to me. “I don’t remember much from those days, Ava, but this is something I’ll never forget. Because your father is the reason my wife—Flynn’s mother—is dead.”
Flynn’s body tightened, his jaw clenched and he spoke through gritted teeth. “He’s the snitch that led the police to our home?” I could see the rage inside him crossing his face, and I knew it was every bit as dark and deep as the rage that was coursing through me as well.
“Yes, son,” he said. “He was.”
Flynn shook my hand from his shoulder and stood up. It felt like a slap in the face and I struggled to keep the multitude of emotions from spilling out of me. I couldn’t even begin to identify exactly what I felt. Sadness? Anger? Rage? I was a confused and jumbled mess.
Without looking at me, Flynn said, “I’d like to be alone with my father, please.”
His voice was cold, distant—it sounded nothing like him. He wouldn’t even look at me, and that hurt more than I was willing to admit.
“Can I be alone with my father, Ava?” he reiterated, his voice frostier than the Arctic. “You have your answers, so I hope you’re happy now.”
My heart broke. I muffled a sob that escaped from my throat. Flynn finally turned to me with a look that scared me, a look that made me think perhaps all was lost and everything I’d hoped for was over. All because it was my dad who’d caused the death of his mother.
“Flynn, please, talk to me—” I begged.
“Leave us alone, Ava,” he said, glaring at me. “I need some time with me da’.”
“But I lost my dad, too,” I tried to reason. “We both lost someone we love. It wasn’t either of our faults, though—”
Flynn clenched his fists at his side, and for a brief moment, I feared he might hit something. I never feared that he’d turn that anger on me. Never feared that he’d hit me. But I’d never seen that look in his eyes before. And it scared me. It was so angry and so alien from anything I’d ever seen on his face before.
I backed up toward the door, away from Flynn. I wasn’t a woman who backed down in the face of fear. I never let myself be intimidated. But I knew I was in enemy territory and didn’t know the lay of the land. Nobody knew where I was and if things went south, there was going to be nobody there to pull my ass out of the fire. Better to retreat for now and see where all the pieces had fallen later. See if there was anything left to pick up and put back together.
“I had no idea, Flynn. Please, believe me.” My eyes welled up with tears as I stared at the man I loved. “I love you, Flynn. I’d never lie to you about something like this.”
Flynn crossed the room and put his hands on my arms, making me flinch as he pressed me against the door. His eyes blazed bright and murderous, and he shut them tightly and shook his head as if to clear it from the dangerous thoughts crossing his mind. “I know that Ava,” he ground out, his voice tense and strained. “I’m not blaming you. I just need time to process it all. I’m just asking for a little bit of time here.”
I noticed that he didn’t tell me he loved me back. The omission stung like hell, but I reminded myself that this wasn’t just about me, either. I nodded, biting my lip. “Okay, I’ll step outside and give you some space.”
Flynn moved away from me and went back to his father’s side without so much as a second glance. Let alone another word. I stood there and watched as Flynn placed his head down on the bed beside his dad, still quiet—speechless. Donal O’Brien placed a hand on his son’s head, comforting him even as he struggled to breathe.
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, shutting it quietly behind me. I leaned against the wall, my eyes full of fresh tears. So much pain. Who knew that getting the answers I desperately wanted would bring about so much pain and suffering for everybody? Not just pain for me, but for the man I loved as well?
I always knew my father worked with the police, and the rest of Donal’s story wasn’t too hard to believe knowing that one fact. Which made it all the more painful.
I fell against the wall and slid down, holding my knees to my chest as I cried. I’m not sure how long I was out there, struggling with everything that had happened. All these years, I’d wanted answers. It was something that had driven me. Had consumed me. Now I had them, and I wasn’t sure what that meant for my future.
As I sat there trying to control my tears and the aching in my heart, I heard voices from down the hallway, near the entrance of the house. At first, I ignored them, assuming they were Donal’s guards or the house staff.
But then my ears perked up when I heard someone say, “They’re down the hall.”
A thick Irish accent asked, “And they have no idea you’re working for us, right?”
I pushed myself up against the wall slowly. Quietly. The last thing I wanted or needed was to make noise or draw attention to myself in any way. Whoever it was that had just come in wasn’t there for a social call. They were there for us.
“Not at all,” another man’s voice replied. “As far as they know, we’re loyal to the old man.”
“Good. Thank you for letting us know,” the Irishman said. “We’ll be sure to finish quickly. And don’t worry, we’ll send somebody ‘round to deal with the cleanup.”
“Fair enough.”
My heart raced as I listened to the sound of footsteps on the tile floor. I quietly turned the knob and pushed open the door. Stepping inside and silently closing the door behind me, I caught a glimpse of Flynn still resting his head on the bed. He looked up at me as I entered, and I guess my eyes gave away my fear because the anger on his face evaporated almost immediately.
Flynn stood up, rushing toward me, “What’s wrong, Ava?”
“They’re here,” I said, pressing my body against the door.
Flynn didn’t even need to ask me who. He knew. Maybe he’d even been expecting them all along.
“Okay then,” he said, his voice calmer than I expected, considering the circumstances. He reached behind me and locked the bedroom door.
“Go through the window,” he told me. “Now.”
I ran over to the window and opened it up, the cool night air gave me the chills. I had to pull the screen out, but Flynn helped me as the door knob wiggled behind us. They were in the hallway outside. I stared back at Flynn, eyes wide, waiting for further instructions. I didn’t have my gun, and I felt completely exposed. Vulnerable.
Flynn ran over to a table beside his father’s bed and opened a drawer. He pulled out two guns, handing one to me. “Take this,” he said, his voice a whisper. He also handed me the keys to a car. “Get to the car and go, Ava. Get out of here. Go. Now.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’ll be right behind you,�
� he said. “Just go, and I’ll catch up with you. Don’t worry about me.”
I slipped out the window just as the door came crashing open behind us. I landed on my feet and ran toward the car, watching for any figures in the darkness around me. I didn’t have time to look over my shoulder lest I miss somebody stepping out of the shadows, but I flinched and my heart started hammering in my chest as I heard gunshots coming from the house.
Flynn said he would be right behind me, but was he really going to be? As I approached the car, I slid along the side, hiding from anyone who might be out front. I waited, not listening to Flynn’s orders. I was hidden, I had a gun and knew how to protect myself. I’d wait for him. I wasn’t going to let him deal with this all alone.
But I waited and I watched, and there was no sign of Flynn. The gunshots had stopped and silence had returned to the grounds of the estate. The quiet was eerie as I hunkered down next to the car and waited, my heart beating so hard I feared it was going to bruise me from the inside.
Either Flynn would come out alive or his enemies would. Either way, I’d have an answer. It seemed to be the theme for the night. I knew someone was bound to come out of the house eventually, and I was going to be ready either way.
But for now, it was just me.
It was a struggle beyond measure, but I tried to remain calm—to stop myself from crying as I prayed for Flynn to emerge from the house alive and unharmed. He’d stayed behind, likely to protect his father and to fight back, but what did that mean for him? What had happened to him?
There was no way I was going to leave him.
Thirty-Two
Flynn
With Ava outside and on her way to safety, I stood my ground. I couldn’t leave my father defenseless to whoever might be outside that door—though, I had a very good idea who it was. As it came crashing inward with the sound of splintering wood and shattering hinges, I saw a familiar face—Red—a man I’d once adored. A man I’d admired and looked up to. A man I’d once aspired to be. And when he saw me, I could clearly see the pain and conflict in his eyes. Had it been just Red on the other side of that door, I might have been able to speak to him logically. Rationally. I might have been able to escape with my life.
But he wasn’t alone. Patrick McCrery was with him, he was one of Colin’s buddies. He was more than likely in on everything Colin had been up to as well.
“I’m sorry,” I said, raising my gun and pointing it at Patrick’s chest.
His eyes widened in surprise as if he hadn’t expected that I’d be standing there with a gun. The look of surprise on his face deepened, and I squeezed the trigger and unleashed the hellish sound of gunfire. Red hadn’t taken a single shot even though I’d quickly popped off four rounds. And as the smell of cordite filled the air, thick as the smoke from the barrel of my gun, the other two men with him dropped. Their bodies hit the ground with a meaty thud. They were down for the count, and Red lowered his gun. He surrendered.
“I can’t,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I can’t do that to ya. Not with your old man right there lookin’ at us.”
I held the gun steady and aimed at Red, just in case he changed his mind and took a shot after all.
“Flynn—please tell me you didn’t do it,” he asked. “On your father’s life, swear to me. Just tell me the God’s honest truth here.”
“I didn’t snitch, Red,” I said. “I’d never do that to my brothers. Never in a million years.”
“What about the girl? The fed?” he asked. “She the one who gave us up?”
“I had no idea she was a federal agent or that she was undercover,” I admitted. “She worked me.”
“Ain’t no one gonna believe you’re that blind, Flynn,” Red said, shaking his head.
“So be it,” I said. “I can’t change the past.”
“Did you kill Colin?” he asked me.
My arm wavered. I couldn’t bring myself to answer the question, at least not fully. “He framed me, Red. And brought the enemy to my door to kill me. What was I supposed to do?”
Red shook his head, then stared down at my father. “You believe him, old man?”
“My son never lies,” Da’ said.
“Yeah, I believe him, too,” Red replied. “Problem is, the others aren’t going to be convinced. Not with Colin dead and unable to answer to all of this.”
“I know,” I said softly. “I can never go back, can I?”
“Maybe one day,” Red said and shrugged. “You never know. Things change, kid.”
But I knew that to be a lie.
“So I guess this is goodbye,” I said, lowering the gun at last.
“Guess so,” Red said. “Try not to get anyone else killed, will ya?”
I laughed, a dry sound that only partially resembled a laugh. “I’ll do my best.” Another lie that fell from my lips. There was no easy way to escape death in the mob. And when you betrayed your brotherhood—just as Red had blatantly done, showing up at me da’s house with fuckin’ Patrick McCrery —your death would be swift.
“Better hurry before the others show up,” he said. “Get your girlfriend and get out of here.”
I looked down at my dying father, not wanting to leave his side. He reached out and took my hand, reading the uncertainty that I was faced with. Red was one of his oldest friends, a man who’d been by his side since he’d formed the O’Brien Syndicate decades ago. But his treachery would not go unpunished, and it was my rightful duty to ensure that. “Go, son.” Me da’ nodded with a knowing look of approval.
“Listen to your da’, man,” Red said. “The brotherhood doesn’t fuck around. He should know. You should know.”
“And you should know, Red,” I said calmly, aiming my gun between his eyes. “Ya thought you’d just walk in here with McCrery and play coy? I know Colin was the fuckin’ rat, and seein’ as how you came in hot, guns blazin’, it’s safe to assume you’re a traitorous bastard as well.”
“Dec—” His words fell on dead lips, as the bullet splintered his skull. Red dropped in a heavy heap, his body landing awkwardly over McCrery’s. A twinge of remorse tried to pass through me, but I’d seen so much fuckin’ bloodshed, so much backstabbing and disloyalty, it was just another fuckin’ day in the life of the mob.
“Flynn,” me da’s dry, raspy voice called out as he attempted to grip my wrist, his hold slight and weak. “You need to go, now. That’s an order, son.” He struggled to speak the words, his breathing deteriorating with each passing second.
I didn’t want to leave my father, but Ava was out there, alone. And if Red was right about the others coming for us, she could be in trouble if I didn’t get her out of there soon.
“I love ya, Da’,” I said, tears filling my eyes.
“I love ya too, son,” he said.
Those were the last words we spoke to one another. With one last look back, I climbed out the window and ran toward the car, which was still parked in the driveway—much to my chagrin. Ava was a stubborn, strong-willed woman. It was one of those things I loved about her.
I hunkered down in the shadows as I saw the headlights of another car approaching, and I prayed that Ava was safely hidden from sight. I didn’t see her, but I couldn’t look too hard for her at the moment. As the car pulled to a stop and members of the syndicate poured out of them and rushed inside my father’s house, I ran toward the car, hoping that I’d find Ava tucked away inside.
There was no sign of her hiding in the pools of shadow outside the vehicle, and it made my heart thud rapidly in my chest. I reached out and grasped the door handle, finding it unlocked. As I pulled open the driver side door as quietly as I could, I almost pulled my gun and fired as Ava screeched and pointed her gun at my face.
“It’s me,” I said, keeping my voice low and lowering my gun, my heart beating a million times a minute.
She dropped the gun, her eyes wide and full of fear. And as soon as she saw my face, she smiled, looking infinitely relieved that she hadn’t pulled the trigg
er. Before I knew what was happening, she pulled me into the car and I closed the door as quietly as possible. She pulled me close and kissed me long and hard. It was such a bad time for it, and I knew we had to get going, but it felt amazing and I kissed her back just as hard. It was a kiss packed with intense emotion and nothing in the world could have pulled us apart.
Okay, almost nothing.
“We have to go,” I said, pulling away from her.
She didn’t ask any more questions, nor did she protest. She knew we were risking our lives by continuing to sit there. Ava slid into the passenger seat, and I quickly started the car. Knowing the sound of it starting would alert the brothers, I slammed the car into gear and we hurried off down the road, with no particular destination in mind.
All that mattered to me was her. I reached over and squeezed her hand.
“I love you, Flynn O’Brien,” she said.
“And I love you, Ava Finley.”
“Even after everything you learned tonight?” she asked. “After what you found out?”
“Even with all of that. Not even the sins of our fathers can tear us apart. Neither one of us had anything to do with what happened all those years ago. We’re innocents in all of this,” I said, kissing her hand. “But I do have one question for ya, sweetheart.”
“What’s that?” she shot me a worried look.
“Where should we go? Anywhere in the world, just name it and we’ll be there by this time tomorrow.”
“Anywhere?” she asked me, leaning back in the seat.
“Anywhere. And you can be anyone you want to be from now on,” I said. “This is the start of something new for both of us. A new world. A new life. A life where we are both nothing but honest with one another. About everything.”
She smiled. “That sounds really nice.”
“Aye, it does.”
I almost couldn’t stop staring at her, the way the moon illuminated her pale skin and sparkled off her emerald eyes. And even with her hair flying wildly all over the place from all the action tonight, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I’d meant it when I said nothing would tear us apart. She wasn’t her father, just as I wasn’t mine. We’d forge a new life together, one without resentment and violence.
