I had no fucking idea what Aodhán was up to, but I did know that he killed at least seven of his own men back there and if it weren’t for him, Becca might’ve been taken from us.
In fact, if we’d just listened to him in the first fucking place when he said we needed to go through that bogus construction zone instead of around it, four more of Dad’s men would still be breathing.
The lines in his face had grown deeper somehow. As if he’d aged another five years in the forty minutes it took him to get here since we called and told him what happened.
“Why couldn’t we do this at the house?”
His rage filled gaze tracked to each of us, scanning for injuries he wouldn’t find. I’d already told him we were fucking fine on the phone.
Most of the blood covering us was our own. Other than a few more bruises to add to the brutal canvas of our flesh, the ones of us who survived the attack would live to fight another day.
Even Kaleb, despite the fact he was still healing. At least the fucker sat down when I told him to, and he hadn’t moved since. With Becca beside him, he sipped bottled water on the bottom bleacher, whispering with her and Aodhán.
“Your place isn’t safe,” Aodhán answered for me, pushing to his feet with a grimace. From the dried crimson staining the back of his head, I’d say he took a pretty hard hit, but he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.
“And this gymnasium is?”
“It was the only thing we could come up with on short notice.”
Mostly empty this late on a Saturday and with only a handful of security guards we already had in our pockets, it was the best option.
We were even able to park most of the vehicles in the auto bays connected to the automotive tech shop, so they’d be concealed from view. As long as everyone was careful not to pull a tail and no one got lucky enough to see us pulling into campus, it would be like we’d vanished into thin air.
“Oh, darlin’,” Ma said, going to crouch in front of Becca, reaching her fingers to the angry bruise on her cheekbone. “That looks angry. I’ll get you some ice.”
“Wait, Ma,” I said. “Aodhán has something he needs to say, and I think we need to listen.”
Dad’s gaze darkened.
“Oh yeah?” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “That so?”
“Yeah,” Kaleb answered, pushing to his feet. “It is, Dad. If it weren’t for him, we might not’ve made it here. Not all of us, anyway.”
I didn’t miss how his eyes tracked back to Becca, and I wondered if he felt as fucking incompetent as I did when I realized they’d managed to drag her away. I’d had three of the Irish fuckers on top of me and every fucking time I got one of them off, somehow another two seemed to take his place.
I’d been stabbed at least three times, but they were shallow wounds. I barely felt the ones in my legs. It was the one to my gut that worried me, but no one needed to know about that. If it’d hit anything vital, I’d be dead or close to it by now which meant that a good stitch and a bandage was all it needed.
And I deserved it anyway.
Dad sucked his teeth, throwing an arm out as he leveled his icy stare on Aodhán. “Let’s hear it, then.”
I moved aside for him.
“Have you heard from Diesel up north in Thorn Valley yet?” Aodhán asked.
Damien gave his head one shake. “Not yet.”
“Last we heard they were saddling up and heading out,” Ma added, coming to stand next to me. “Why?”
“Shouldn’t they have been on their way by now?”
My brow furrowed. He was right. They should’ve been halfway here by now, but we hadn’t heard a word. Between coordinating getting the other families out of town, the attack, and moving everyone here, clearly no one thought to call and check in.
I took out my phone and dialed, putting it on speaker.
Corvus didn’t answer.
“Try Diesel,” I growled, and Dad took out his cell and thumbed out Diesel’s number by hand like the tech dinosaur he was.