Page 61 of When Kings Rise

I tremble at the cock of the gun. How can this be our end? I glance around the darkened alleyway. Something moves in the shadows. And then Diarmuid is there, a gun in his hand.

It takes me a moment to really allow what I am seeing to sink in. He has blood on his shirt, and he looks like he’s been in a battle. In his eyes, there burns a fierce resolve.

The old man turns to Diarmuid. “You got here quicker than I thought.” His gun is now pointed at Diarmuid.

“I was only ten minutes away. I lied,” Diarmuid confesses and takes a step closer. “You will let them go, Cormick.”

Cormick’s smile is a flash in the darkness. “And why would I do that?”

There is a shift in the air as Diarmuid puts his gun away and steps even closer to Cormick. “You don’t need a gun.”

Cormick laughs. “It's a quicker way.”

“If you fire that gun, people will hear.” Diarmuid holds up his hands and takes another step closer to Cormick; he hasn’t looked at Selene and me who are holding hands.

I want to tell Diarmuid that he killed Rian, but it’s like there is no air in the alleyway.

Cormick lowers his gun, his smile no longer visible. “You want to dance? Let’s dance.” He whips out a knife, and my stomach sinks to my feet.

With a growl, Diarmuid moves with precision, a knife in his own hand I hadn’t even seen him extract. His movements are both horrific and mesmerizing. He swipes a large arch, and the knife nicks Cormick’s arm. Selene drags me back until our backs hit the wall.

Cormick retaliates instantly, his own knife drawing blood across Diarmuid’s chest. I scream when I see the injury, but Diarmuid’s onslaught is relentless, driven by a primal need to protect, to avenge. He swipes quickly at Cormick again, this time cutting the man’s torso. I’m waiting for his guts to spill out across the asphalt, but crimson red soaks his shirt. He hasn't a moment to recover when Diarmuid swipes out and takes his legs out from under him with one quick movement.

When Cormick hits the ground, Diarmuid is on top of him, one knee crushing the man’s hand that held the knife. With a pressure that has Cormick releasing his knife, the clang of the weapon echoes. But relief that Diarmuid has the upper hand has me stepping away from the wall, thinking it’s over.

“I trained you well,” Cormick says before spitting to his left. Diarmuid’s fist slams into Cormick’s face with a viciousness that takes the remaining air from my lungs. He raises the knife and pierces one of Cormick’s eyes. The sound is too much, and I want Diarmuid to stop.

“Please stop.” It’s all too much.

I don’t think Diarmuid can hear me as he removes his knife with an eyeball hanging on the end.

“Never touch what is mine,” Diarmuid says before he drives the knife deeper until only the handle sticks out of Cormic’s eye, and his body goes still.

I pivot just in time as bile claws its way up my throat, and I empty the meager contents of my stomach along the alleyway wall.

Arms circle me, and I expect Selene, but it’s Diarmuid. “It’s okay. You are safe.” He pulls me into his chest, blood soaking into my clothes, and I can’t stop the sobs that take over.

“Are you hurt?” I find myself saying.

He brushes it off. “We need to leave.” He doesn’t look like he could walk two feet without collapsing, but he pulls me and Selene away from the gruesome scene.

“Rian, he killed Rian,” I say. “We need to get him out of the trunk.”

“No,” Diarmuid orders as he drags us away from the bodies.

“We can’t just leave him here,” I object.

“It's just the way with our world,” he states, a harsh truth spoken with a finality. His refusal is not cruel but a necessity born from years within a world that devours its weak and sentimental.

We leave the alleyway and Rian behind.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Amira

I'VE NEVER KNOWN emptiness like this. It's a void, an abyss that swallows every thought, every feeling, leaving behind a shell of who I used to be. My brothers, Dominic and Kevin, were my world, and now they're gone. Dominic's death hit like a storm, sudden and devastating. He had been the rock, the one who took on all of the responsibility after Michael was taken away. The pressure to keep our family afloat led him down paths he shouldn't have taken, risks that cost him everything. Then, there was Kevin. Watching him spiral into the abyss of drugs, trying to escape a reality too harsh to bear, was a slow torture. I knew, deep down, that it was only a matter of time for him.

Rain droplets begin to pummel the canvas above me. This is not my first night in Dublin's tent cities, and it won't be my last. But moving is life and staying in one place too long is dangerous. The thought of taking a plane out of the country is laughable—I don't even have a passport, and my finances are a joke. Sneaking onto one of the ferries has crossed my mind, but the risk of getting caught without knowing how long I'll need to stretch my meager funds is too great. This tent, my makeshift home, was a find, a bargain from a secondhand store that's become my biggest purchase in weeks.

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