by Winters, KB
Daniel stared at me for a long time, trying to figure out if I was playing him or genuinely trying to get the fuck out of Dodge. I didn’t know what he saw, but eventually he nodded and took a step back to set his gun down. He pulled out a sleek black phone and pressed a few buttons before picking up his gun and aiming it at my head as the phone began to ring.
“Do it right and maybe this will all work out.” I taunted him.
The gleam in his eyes gave me pause but I nodded, knowing I was about to do something very stupid but something that had to be done. I didn’t trust any of the Connelly’s, especially Rourke. But that didn’t mean I wanted them dead. I had to be brave, that was what Mom would call it. Dad would call it stupid and this time, I had to agree with him.
As the second ring sounded I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, sending a prayer up to anyone who might be listening that when the sun officially set on this day, I still had a pulse.
Chapter Thirty - Three
Rourke
“I don’t trust it.” Eamon’s voice rang out over the smacking cue balls from Layla and Ivy playing pool in the game room while me, Eamon, Shae and Conor huddled at the other end of the room. “It doesn’t make sense that she would save Conor.”
Conor snorted a laugh. “Gee thanks, cousin.” He shook his head, only wincing slightly at the pull of the wound healing at his side.
“That’s not what I meant,” Eamon growled. “That woman despises us. She was pissed off from the minute she got here, and then she gets the chance to leave you to rot and doesn’t?” He shook his head, completely baffled by Margo’s behavior.
I was too, but not to the same extent as my cynical cousin. Margo was a medical professional, and she would help if she could.
“She helped that old Milano fucker.” The woman ran out on me and still I was defending her. I was a bigger pussy than I thought.
Conor shook his head, shooting me a commiserating smile. “She’s not one of us, man. Margo is a good person and even though she claims she hates Rourke; she obviously cares about him. She also took care of me whether she wanted to or not and believe me, she did not.”
He laughed and shook his head. “She was nice enough and professional, but I had no doubt she wished her conscience would have let her leave me to die somewhere.”
That sounded like Margo, and I smiled. Eamon still frowned. “It doesn’t make sense. There has to be an angle we can’t see. Or one we don’t want to see,” he said with a pointed stare in my direction.
I stood and glared back. “Fuck you, Eamon. Margo doesn’t deserve this and even if she hates all the fucking Connelly’s, she could have sold us out so many times and didn’t.”
“Rourke is right, you’re all wrong on this one, E-man. She might not be our biggest fan but saving my life has earned her some brownie points. Right?” Conor at least could see things clearly, a fact for which I was grateful.
Eamon froze, glanced across the room at Layla, who smiled and blew him a kiss before turning back to me. “Right. That doesn’t change the fact that we have no clue where she went.”
“And I’d just missed her at the cemetery. I know she’d been there, as well. She’d put fresh flowers on her mother’s grave but there was no other trace of her. Anywhere.”
Byrne had been reluctant, but once I told him of my suspicions, he gave up the information easily. But I’d arrived at the cemetery too late.
“Where the fuck is she?” I asked in frustration.
Conor and Shae snorted in laughter, giving each other knowing looks.
“Guess she isn’t the only one who cares,” Shae snickered behind his hand, sending both cousins into another fit of laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Layla strode up and slid an arm around Eamon’s waist. She pulled back and let him kiss her. “Tell me.”
He smiled down at her like she was his whole world and I felt a searing pain in my chest at the tenderness between them.
“Nothing much,” Eamon said with a dreamy look, unable to take his eyes off the soon to be mother of his child. “Just that Rourke went and fell for Byrne’s daughter.”
Layla turned to me with a smile. “That makes sense. I knew she hated you too much. Any word on where she is?”
“None,” I sighed and ran another hand through my already messed up hair. It was driving me crazy, not knowing.
The door to the game room slammed open, and Patrick walked in with Donovan Byrne at his heels.
“Phone call,” he barked out and held it out to me. “Go on and take it, son.”
I took the phone with a hesitant frown at the grainy looking video footage.
“Who is this?” There were sounds on the other side of the line but something covered the camera that was clearly on.
“Talk goddammit!” That voice was one I recognized.
Daniel Milano. And he sounded angry as fuck.
“Shut up one goddamn minute so I can think!” That perpetually annoyed voice belonged to Margo, and instantly I was on alert and wondering what that asshole had done to her.
“Hello? Lift up the phone, dummy.” She said.
Assuming Daniel was the dummy handling the phone. He did as he was told and Margo’s face came into view.
“What the fuck?” I yelled at the screen. Her eye was swollen shut. Along with the goose egg that was sticking out of her forehead. “Margo, are you all right?”
The sound of my voice startled her, and she looked at the screen.
“Rourke?” She leaned in giving me a long glimpse of one big blue eye before sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Oh, I’m fine. Just fucking peachy considering I’m stuck in the middle of a bad seventies porn set.”
How she could smile and pretend to be upbeat when she’d obviously taken a few punches shocked me. Pissed me off too because it meant that once again she wasn’t taking any of this seriously. At my angry expression she rolled her eyes.
“I’m fine, Rourke. Danny here wants to make a trade so I hope you’re within earshot of all the right people.”
I gave a quick nod. “I’ll be sure to pass on the message.” It would be best if Dan didn’t think he was in complete control. “What does he want to trade?”
“Me for his old man, assuming he’s still breathing.” It was barely visible but I saw the brief flinch indicating that Daniel was threatening her. That punk ass fucker probably got off on having power over the powerless, and I would make that piece of shit pay for Margo’s face.
“He’s got a few breaths left in him,” I answered back, casual as I could manage. “Is that all he wants?”
She laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes, proving once again just how damn strong she was. If it wasn’t likely to get her killed before I could rescue her, I might be impressed.
“Probably not,” she winced, as if talking hurt her face, yet she continued, gutsy as ever. “But that’s the only part of the story I got.” Her gaze flicked up, assessing and full of contempt, before turning back to the camera. “In fact, I’d probably show up with varsity and JV on both teams. I mean guns blazing since there are only—” whatever she was about to say next was cut off with the distinct sound of a smack and then Margo’s laugh.
“You hit like a bitch,” she said to someone out of the camera shot.
The image bounced wildly as the phone fell to the ground. Dan grunted before another punch sounded, this time it was louder. “Shut the fuck up!” he growled like the animal he was.
The sound of spitting came next and then a pained, brittle laugh. “Gold tigers, bitch.” She laughed again, this time it sounded maniacal and a part of me wondered if she was trying to get herself killed.
Another smack and then the call ended.
“Shit!” That asshole Milano had better hope he gets hit with a stray bullet before I got to him because I planned to make him suffer.
“That motherfucker,” I growled and looked up to find Byrne and Patrick smirking, Eamon frowning,
Shae looking confused and Conor outright laughed.
“What?”
“You’ve got it bad, boy.” Byrne laughed and smacked Patrick on the back.
“Real bad,” my uncle, the traitor, added with a shit-eating grin.
They didn’t know what they were talking about. “She’s a pain in my ass. But I feel responsible for her and the damn woman can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life, which means I have to.”
“You heard everything,” I said to the collective wiseasses in the room. “What do we do?”
Byrne clapped his hands together, grinning wide. “I know exactly where she is. That porno set used to be just that until the owner, a former porn actor turned director, fell prey to Milano’s side business as a blackmailer. He made the mistake of telling the old man too much after a girl OD’d in his hot tub and ended up giving up that two-million-dollar piece of real estate to the Milano’s for about fifty grand. Lost it in a big way.” Byrne shook his head in distaste. “That’s no way to do business but it makes him feel like big shit.”
“And you’ve been there?” I shouldn’t be such a dick to the old man, but we were wasting time.
He nodded. “A few times. He might be a sleazy sonofabitch, but he puts out a good spread for dinner. I know how to get there, and I know the layout.”
Eamon stepped forward and looked around the room. “Tell us everything,” he said. “We’ll take care of it.” He was no nonsense and ready to crack some fucking skulls based on the tense set of his shoulders.
“No fucking way,” Byrne shot back. “That’s my daughter in there and you heard her, both teams. That means Milano has a fuck ton of men, armed men, waiting for us. We all go,” he glanced at Patrick, “who can.”
“No offense, Byrne but you’re a liability.” He might be younger than Patrick but not by much, and we wouldn’t be able to rescue Margo and kill Daniel if we had to keep an eye on either man.
“I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, boy. And I know exactly where those gold tigers are.” His smile was suitably smug because the asshole knew he had me.
“All right, then.” Patrick lit the cigar he’d pulled from thin air and took a long pull. “We need to get armed and put together a strategy. Byrne, get two dozen of your best men and get them here in fifteen.”
To his credit, Donovan was already on his phone and talking into the receiver. Despite what Margo thought of him, Byrne loved his daughter.
“On their way,” he said a moment later. His wrinkled eyes were full of emotion, anger, determination, regret, murder. Pleading. “I’ll stay outside the house and guide you to her, but you promise that you’ll bring Margo back to me.”
“I will.” How could I possibly do anything thing else when the woman had somehow gotten under my skin and made me want her? Even knowing she didn’t want me, I still wanted her. Bad. “I promise.”
I would bring her back, make sure she was safe in my arms, and then I would make her mine.
Chapter Thirty - Four
Margo
“You have a really shitty way of showing your gratitude, Danny Milano.” After smacking me around a little for going off script in that phone call, he’d pulled the chair into the center of the room and tied me to it. The tigers were shitty company, but I was glad he hadn’t moved me to another part of the house. Hopefully someone in that room with Rourke understood the clue. “Did you have to tie me to the chair?”
“Shut the fuck up!” His words were an angry whisper because he and his boys were set up for an ambush. The dipshit wouldn’t know the word discreet if it was tattooed on his forehead. He’d been talking loudly on the other side of the door while he made plans to do the switch, then they’d all come in and taken their places in the room, I guessed to watch over me.
I smiled into the darkness. “What difference does it make to you? If I’m gonna die in the crossfire, I’d like to spend my last few minutes talking.”
“One more word and I’ll fucking shut you up.” He sneered. Asshole.
“Oh come on, this isn’t the movies.” The guy was seriously an amateur, thinking they would all rush into an empty room to save me without regard for their own lives. “I’m not some fucking mob princess everyone is risking their lives to save.”
He barked out a laugh. “That’s exactly what you are. Your daddy and your boyfriend both riding in to save you. Sounds like a princess to me.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re an idiot. They’re only coming to get me to prove a point and the fact that you don’t know that means this won’t end well for you.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”
“All the time,” I shot back, weirdly proud that I was getting such a rise out of him. It was short-lived though when he marched forward and tied something around my mouth.
“Dick!” I muffled out.
“Shut up and watch me kill everyone you love.” His smile was more of a sneer as he walked away, and I took several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. I couldn’t panic. Not now. But I was fucking terrified and didn’t know what this crazy psycho would do.
I had to find a way to warn whoever came through that door first, but Daniel’s men settled and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence, which made it difficult to think.
Then it became very easy to hear the soft sound of multiple footsteps closing in. I heard a door open and I smiled. A flashlight beam hit me right in the eye.
“Margo?”
I nodded even though I didn’t recognize the voice or the silhouette, but I remembered my plan. I started to shake from side to side, making as much noise as possible, thinking it would somehow make a difference. I didn’t know why but I kept doing it, grunting behind the cloth and moving wildly until the big man was kneeling in front of me.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, big green eyes kind and only slightly intimidating.
He slid the cloth from my mouth. “Ambush! Men with guns everywhere. Behind you,” I shouted as loud as I could, hoping my voice was as loud as it sounded in my own ears.
“Shit,” he grunted and picked me up, chair and all, backing away from the threat he couldn’t see.
Then all hell broke loose. Shots fired from all sides, and all I could do was duck my head against my chest and pray the bullets miraculously missed me. But then something happened to my savior. He froze and fell over, dropping me, which broke the chair in the process, and I was free.
The ropes took some time but I worked at them while the big man dragged me out of the line of fire before uttering, “Shit,” and collapsing on the ground.
The bullet was lodged somewhere in his midsection, to the left of his stomach. There wasn’t anything I could do, other than slow down the bleeding. “I’ve got you, man,” I said softly into his ear as I cradled him in my arms.
“Shamrock,” he wheezed out, trying like hell to put on a brave face even as bullets continued to fly all around us.
“Good to meet you, Shamrock. Thanks for saving me.” I could hardly see a thing in the dark, smoke-filled room so I kept my breathing slow and even and focused on Shamrock. “You need a real doctor, but I’ll make sure you live until we get you to one. I promise.”
“I can see why Rourke. Fell.”
“Don’t talk. Just breathe in and out and listen to my voice,” I told him and kept my voice soft but loud enough to hear over the never-ending stream of bullets. Rourke must’ve actually heeded my warning because it seemed like all the ammunition in Rocket was being unloaded in this room. And unless I was losing my mind, shots were flying in other parts of the porno mansion, as well.
“They have to run out of bullets eventually,” I told Shamrock, though that comment was more for me. Every shot fired made me jump or wince. The only reason I didn’t scream was that I was trying to keep my savior from bleeding out.
Suddenly the shots stopped. They just…stopped. Shamrock tried to sit up. “Rourke, he’s—”
“Back down. You can’t help h
im.” But maybe I could help. “What do I do?”
He grunted as his back hit the ground. “Nothing. Stay here or I’m dead anyway.” The moment I moved to stand, his meaty hand reached out to me. “Stay,” he wheezed and I knew I couldn’t leave him.
I knelt beside Shamrock, keeping pressure on his wound and making sure he didn’t lose consciousness. “You win this round but only because you saved my life.” He smiled and I smiled back, feeling suddenly light. Kind of free like maybe this was the end.
Then a set of hands grabbed me and I screamed. I shouted and as my body was lifted off the ground I began to kick and thrash around.
“Stop!” a harsh voice ordered.
But I didn’t stop. I flailed around like a trapped, wild animal, even using my head to swing back and hopefully hit the attacker.
“Dammit, Margo, stop! It’s me.”
I froze. “Rourke?” I knew that voice well and even though the man made me angry as hell, my body went slack in relief. He was all right. He’d come for me.
“Rourke, put me down!”
He did and I turned to look up at him, his hair and face sweaty from exertion, his eyes cold. Distant.
“Holy shit, Rourke, what happened? Are you all right?”
He had blood everywhere, his shirt, his face and even in his hair.
“Tell me you’re all right,” I insisted even as my hands roamed every inch of his body from the top of his head to his waist, searching for bullet holes or knife wounds. Maybe both.
“Rourke,” I cried. My hands cupped his bloody face, oblivious to anything but the absolute anguish all over his face.
“The blood isn’t mine.” His voice was soft but his distant eyes left me feeling cold even as his fingers sifted through my hair.
I nodded at his words, acknowledging that I knew whose blood it was without making him say it.
“Thank God you’re all right.” I gave in to a moment of weakness, letting my hands glide up his chest until they rested on his shoulders, and I pushed myself up and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you for saving me, Rourke.”
He pulled me in and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. And tight. “You’re welcome Margo. I’m so glad you’re alive.” His words were a rough growl into my hair, but still, they made me smile.
