The shots seem to improve Quinn’s mood. He steps up towards Andreas as if they were a signal for him to move. I can only hope he understands what they mean to him. With all these bullets flying, I have no idea who’s up here with us. The room we were in was bad enough, but here on this deck, I can only see the man guarding us, and Andreas.
My hands shake, gripping onto Emily's. She seems far more capable than I’ve proven to be. If only I knew what had happened to Benjamin and Nathan, or even Gabby. That might keep my mind from turning my imagination against me. Who's out there now shooting for us? All of them? None of them?
“You hear that, Andreas? That’s the sound of your death coming right for you,” Quinn taunts loudly.
“You’re a cocky fuck, considering I have a gun to your head and my man has a gun at your woman and sister.” He sneers at Quinn, but he doesn’t back down.
My hand squeezes Emily’s, just waiting for the crack of another bullet.
“She’s not my sister.” He doesn’t hide the disdain in his words. All of my life I hated that I was related to them. They were the enemy. But hearing him deny me hurts more than I want to admit.
“Either way, get down. Where you belong. You’ve been a royal fucking pain ever since you messed with us. It will be easier if I put a bullet in your head.” Andreas nods at the gun, pointing at the floor, but Quinn doesn’t move. It takes the gun pressed into his chest before he finally complies, slowly sinking to his knees. Visions of his execution flash in my mind, but I don’t feel any relief from it. Instead, a twisting ball of hurt and guilt settles, reminding me of him saving me back in that room. He didn't need to. He could have killed me where I stood.
“It will be okay.” Emily’s voice is so soft I have to strain to hear her. It's so resolute, though. So focused.
“How can you be so sure?” I look into her eyes, searching for the answers not just for this situation, but for the countless questions I’ve yet to air. Do I want to be accepted as a Cane? Will Quinn even give that any thought, or just kill me because of my actions.
My eyes flick around at the noise out here, nervous of everything happening. Benjamin hasn’t killed me. I thought that was a miracle. But will he forgive me? We might have made-up in the most primitive of ways, but forgiveness is another level for Benjamin. Should he after what I’ve done? Or should I cut and run after what I’ve set in motion?
“Quinn will never allow anyone to hurt his family. It’s the oath he holds most dear.”
“That doesn’t include me. I’m not family.” Her soft eyes turn to me, regardless of this situation we’re in.
“You are. Quinn doesn’t like being blindsided.”
“How can family be so important when he lives a life filled with such violence?” I stutter, looking back at him on his knees. “There’s so much death in him. Hatred.”
“Which he’s faced all his life, but he still kept his family safe.”
Her words are resolute, like she’s already lived through this and can see the outcome and is now safe in the knowledge that everything will be okay.
I take strength from her words and try to believe in them.
“Are they all still alive, though?” I whisper the words, suddenly desperate to have reassurance from Emily. Or see Benjamin for myself. Any of them. She smiles slightly, eyes still looking at Quinn without wavering.
“Nate will come. Those two don’t do well without each other,” she says calmly. “Quinn would never allow him to be killed.”
“Quiet,” the man to the side of us snaps, smacking the already damaged side of Emily’s face. She tumbles into me and I hold her, supporting her as she shakes. The man steps back and resumes looking anywhere but at us, a tremor in the hand that holds the gun.
The next few seconds explode with action.
Quinn bellows his rage as he looks over to us. To Emily. Murder shines in his eyes, and I brace for action, but movement at the far side of the deck catches my eye. I turn to glance. Nathan, I think, is moving behind one of the bulkheads. My heart thunders in my chest with relief. Perhaps Benjamin is all right, too. My eyes close in a moment of thanks, clinging onto the possibility that he’s okay.
Chaos rains as gunfire snaps out from somewhere, pop after pop, like fireworks on the fourth of July. The muzzles flash, signaling where the people who surround us are in the gloom, although the man behind us stays silent.
Two other shadows stalk around between the containers, keeping out of the sight of the men watching over us from above. True hope starts beating in my chest that those shadows are on our side, that they are Benjamin and Gabby, and not reinforcements.
Quinn suddenly spins on his knees, kicking out and bringing Andreas toppling forward. He stumbles over Quinn, but rights himself.
“Fuck!” he screams as his gun spirals across the deck towards us and out of his grasp.
My body tenses, weighing up the possibility of reaching it before the man looming over us aims. He’s been nervous with the gun. Would he really pull the trigger? It would sign his death warrant the moment he does with Quinn and Nathan in the area, and Andreas hasn’t paid him much attention, more focused on killing Quinn.
Before I can raise my elbow to dig the man in the gut, I see Gabby dart out from the shadows towards the gun on the deck. Emily and I both breathe a sigh of relief.
“Gabby, don’t!” The frustration and fear in Nate’s voice chase her as she and Andreas end up in a race for the gun.
Quinn twists to his feet, his hands still bound in front of him. He moves towards Andreas to help Gabby, but a streak of gunfire keeps him in place. There’s movement from all directions, people manoeuvring in the shadows, positioning themselves for the checkmate that’s coming. My gut tells me I need to move, and I shift my body, ready to grab Emily and run for it.
“Don’t. They can’t do what they need to if we’re in the way. Trust me,” she grits out, pulling my arm to keep me in place. I feel useless just waiting, sitting and watching as the fight unfolds, all set in motion by my actions and my thirst for revenge. Even if we survive the Yakuza, I have to find a way back to Benjamin without either Cane killing me first. The pain at the thought of losing him—really losing him—is greater than any burning rage I felt for the life I was dealt. It led me to him, after all.
Gabby reaches the gun first and dives over it just as Andreas reaches her. His body smothers her to the deck, and I suck in a breath, as I fear she won’t come out of this confrontation in one piece.
Nate advances towards Gabby but keeps his position wide so that he can cover Quinn as well. A dark figure stalks Quinn, ready to take him out.
“Quinn, behind you!” I yell with everything in my lungs. He spins, but the man grabs him in a chokehold. With his hands bound, he struggles, and they begin to grapple with one another.
Nate’s arm swings between the two, unsure which target to train his gun on.
“Gabby?” Nathan calls, panic edging into his voice as he watches on.
Two more shots, and I’m on my feet, desperate to go and see if either of them hit Gabby. I pull Emily to standing, but our guard shoves us against the railing, keeping us in place. The gust of cold sea air is a frightening reminder of where we are, and how easy it would be to fall into the water below us. His arm shakes as he raises the gun in his hand and aims directly at us.
Gabby and Andreas continue to wrestle on the floor. Quinn is fighting on the other side of Gabby and Andreas, with Nate in the middle. He takes a step towards Quinn, but a bullet slices through the night, nearly hitting him, and makes him retreat to the shadow.
Where’s Benjamin? My eyes rush around and scan for him. Please let him be alive. Please let him be alive.
“Bitch!” Andreas rolls on top of Gabby, but she’s using his weight against him, a knife wedged deep into his shoulder as he crowds over her. She twists under him, grappling for the gun again, but he grabs her ankle, pulling her back. He snatches the gun into his hand as he pulls Gabby against his chest an
d wraps his injured arm around her neck, signaling her loss.
He leans on her to push up to his feet, dragging her with him. The muzzle of the gun presses to her head and I see fear in her for the first time.
“Quinn! Nate!” he booms, calling them out.
The man with Quinn wraps his hands around his neck, tightening his grip and preventing any further fight from him.
Nate steps forward instantly, his gun raised and aimed at Andreas.
“Don’t do it, Andreas. You let her go, or I’ll put a bullet in your fucking head,” he snaps. “Hisa’s dead. You’ve got nowhere to go.”
“I don’t think you’ll shoot me, Nate. Trust your aim not to hit my sister?” Andreas replies, pulling Gabby close into him. “And besides…” He looks above him and nods. Another volley of bullets lands at Nate’s feet immediately, making him dance on the spot. “I have you covered. All I have to do is give the word and you’re dead.”
Nate looks over to Emily and me. He scans us briefly before he continues his assessment of the deck. He’s looking for something. I turn to Emily who’s still surprisingly calm. She’s watching, standing still and taking it all in, as if people’s lives aren’t hanging in the balance.
“You don’t get to call her your sister after what you’ve done,” Nate snarls back, his eyes still searching, his gun still raised. My own hope can’t help but rise at the thought it's Benjamin he's looking for, and that he's still alive.
“I can call this bitch anything I want. If Hisa is dead, then it’s me that you owe all that money to. I’m a reasonable man. I can trade.”
“What’s Nathan looking for?” I whisper to Emily.
She just shakes her head. I follow my eyes to the same places he looked, hoping to catch a glimpse of Benjamin.
A whimper from Gabby draws my attention back to her. His arm wraps tighter around her neck, and she claws at his forearm, desperate to release the grip he has on her. Black liquid soaks his shirt, running down to his elbow and starts to drip onto the deck.
“Time’s running out, Nate.”
Bullets fly again, three shots out of nowhere, but two muffled cries followed by a loud thud follow them. Something or someone falls to the deck from overhead.
“Nathan, you’re clear.” It’s Benjamin’s voice.
Hearing he’s alive brings a respite from the tension I’ve been suffering. I sag, eyes searching the deck, desperate to see he’s unharmed.
Nate takes two steps forward, his gun raised and aimed right at Andreas. The smirk he was wearing falls quickly as he watches. He moves the gun to aim at Nate, but he’s not quick enough. Nate is steady and effective; he doesn’t even blink as he pulls the trigger, sending a bullet dead into Andreas' forehead.
He drops to the ground, releasing Gabby as he does.
“You shot him. My brother,” Gabby stammers as Nate engulfs her in his arms.
“If it’s a choice between you or your brother, I'll choose you every damn time. You’re my family.” He cradles her against him, but I don’t miss the look he gives Emily. He holds her gaze for a moment, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her nod her head. A tide of unsaid words wash between them, and I wonder what the story is there.
I look around for Benjamin. We’re all still standing, but I feel like I’ll collapse from exhaustion any minute. I take a deep breath and find myself believing that there’s a way out of all of this mess.
The vibrations along the rail of the boat sound out and we all look over to where Quinn is still wrestling with his assailant. He slams the man holding him against the metal railing, trying to dislodge his grip before dipping and tipping the man over into the sea.
The click of the hammer on a gun brings my attention back to the man who’s been guarding us. He’s a few feet from us now, clear distance between us, but he’s far too close with a gun pointed squarely at Emily.
A snatched second is all it takes.
My resolve hardens as I watch Quinn’s anguished face. He can't save her from there; he’s too far. I turn and see Benjamin stepping out of the shadows, his gun raised. I look at him along the barrel of his gun before I make my move. It’s a torturous moment when I must weigh my hopes for the future against what’s right.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth. I am. I’m sorry for all of this.
My feet are surer than I thought they’d be as I slide in front of Emily’s body. “You didn’t deserve this. Any of you,” I whisper. There’s no clear shot at her now. She’s safe. And if this is all I can do to make amends then so be it.
I thought it would be slow, like watching a film, my eyes tracking the bullet as it leaves the gun on a trajectory straight for me. But it’s not. It's not like a film at all. The man’s arm jolts as he fires his shot, and that’s all I see before pain explodes through me.
Twenty-Seven
I’m staring at the only thing in this world worth a damn, and I haven’t got any fucking words for how I feel. The ice cubes clink against the side of the glass, as I look at the scene in front of me, trying to work out what the hell to do. Both the Cane boys are outside this room, pacing. They want answers to their questions. They’re not the only ones. Now this is all done, and we’re safe, I want to know exactly what the fuck was going on in her head when she dived in front of Emily. Not that that's the question either Cane wants an answer to.
I turn my head over my shoulder at Quinn’s voice kicking off in my lounge, Nathan trying to calm him down. He’s still wound up, still shouting his mouth around like he has every right to come in here and vent his frustration. He might have, but he’ll do it when I’ve got my thoughts together first. Hope took a bullet for his woman. He can eat that up a bit longer yet, let it make him find sense in the senseless. I still don’t know why she did it. Can’t fucking work it out at all. Emily’s been treated for whatever cuts and scrapes she took. Gabby’s fine. But Hope—she’s not. She’s still out cold and lying on our bed. It’s the way I’m having her kept, because until I can work out what all this shit is, I’m not having her woken.
It was a fucking mad house when we arrived. Daniel saw us as we ran in and started working on her in the elevator. I barely heard what he was asking me, just damn questions rattling in my ear as he tried to get her clothes off. What was her blood type? Was she on any medication? Was she healthy? I shook my head and nodded, just staring at her bleeding out in my arms. Fixed, that’s all I wanted. Fixed and alive. And then Quinn pulled me off her and held me back in the corner.
“Ben?” Daniel says, coming round from the bathroom into the room. “We need to have the rest of the triage gear brought up now. I’ve got the bullet out, and she’s about stable, but I can’t do anymore until—” I wave my hand at him and pick up my phone to let the doorman downstairs know to let them through, then watch him as he wipes the rest of her blood from his hands.
“She all right, though?” I ask.
“As long as we can get her hooked up and I can finish my tests, she should pull through okay. She’s damn lucky.” I frown at him, annoyed with the word should. I don’t like it. Every fucking deal gone wrong, every bullet hole or gash we couldn't tape down or fix up, and we called Dr. Daniel Redman, son of my father’s second, to fix it for us.
He'll do it again now.
My frown turns into a scowl as I stand and walk over to her, drink dangling in my fingers. “Do every test you can. You make her right again. She dies and your family pays,” I mumble, taking another drink. He goes fucking white. Good. Let that damn well sink in. I've never said something like that to him before now. He's trusted. Old school. And he's always come through if he can, but if anyone’s killing her, or letting her die, it’ll be me. That's what we are.
Who I am.
I swig at my scotch again and stare at her pale features, eyes closed and hair pinned up out of the way. “I don’t want to hear should again, Daniel.”
He nods at me and goes to the door, ready to let the hustle of noise coming into my home into this room. The m
oment it opens, I glare at Quinn hovering in my eyeline and sip my drink again. He looks at the state of my bed, blood drenching what was once pristine, and backs off a step. Good. I’m in no mood for arguments. Everything that happens now, happens exactly how I want it to. He can go back to Chicago as far as I’m concerned. What he came for is over, and the only goddamn casualty is the woman I love. Still. Regardless of her deceit.
Nathan comes up behind him and pulls him out of the way of the trollies and bed being aimed at the room. Two women come in with them, both wearing casual clothes. Daniel makes them sign a document and then gets them busy with something.
“Family,” he says to me. I nod, knowing that means they’ll know the fucking score in here and keep their mouths shut when they leave. The amount of money he gives them will help, too. That and the threat that comes with me.
I walk over to the door, and keep my stare fixed on Quinn as I walk through it towards the booze. “Stay the fuck out of there,” I growl, reaching for a bottle.
He glances back in then frowns and goes to join Emily on the couch. She smiles at him and reaches her hand for his, still shook up by what’s gone down. My eyes find Gabby leaning her elbows on the table, Nathan beside her. They’re murmuring about something together. Whatever it is, I don’t give a damn, but the very fact that two women are sitting here while Hope’s in there, not far off dead, incenses the fuck out of me.
“You should all leave,” I announce. They should. They should get out of here so I can process what the hell is happening in my head. I’m ready to kill anything that moves and verging on fucking tears for some reason. That shit’s not happened to me in a long time.
“We’ve got things to discuss, Vico.” Quinn. I pull in a breath, hoping to contain the fucking animosity that’s winding up my insides. “She ratted us out. And sister? The fuck?” I glare at him, giving him a second to think sensibly about what’s coming out of his mouth next. “We need to talk about that.”
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