Page 77 of Finn

“No, but I didn’t think anyone would be ballsy enough to try anything at the house, either. This place is set up as a fortress, with several safeguards in place. If I have to leave you alone, this is the one place I feel best about you staying at.”

“Why does this feel different?” Alessia asks.

That’s the question I was asking myself as I sat here watching her sleep. There was only one answer I could come up with.

“Because you finally admitted you love me and can’t live without me.” My mouth tips up in a smirk, and Alessia rolls her eyes.

She shakes her head and lets out a small huff of laughter. “I could certainly live without your cockiness.”

“Nah, it’s one of my many charms.”

She looks me in the eye, all mirth wiped from her face. “Do me a favor and bring all those charms back to me in one piece, yeah?”

Cupping her face in my palm, I bend my forehead down and touch it to hers. “I love you, Alessia. Nothing is going to stop me from coming home to you.” I grab the bullet with the O carved into it that I picked up from the shelf when Eoghan, Cillian, and I were preparing to leave and hold it in front of her. “I’ll be back for you and this bullet in no time, wife. Then you can end that miserable piece of shit’s existence, and I can bring you back here and do all the things to your body that I dreamed about last night.”

“Ever the romantic.” She chuckles and takes the bullet from me, staring at it for a few moments. When she meets my gaze again, her eyes are hard and resolute. “I love you, Finn. I’ll see you when you get home.”

My lips crash to hers, but before the kiss can get carried away, I pull my mouth from hers and stand from the bed.

“See you in a few hours.” I nod and turn to walk down the stairs, meeting Cillian and Eoghan at the front door.

“Let’s go.”

The drive to Springfield takes us a little over an hour. Thankfully, the roads are clear as we pull up in front of the apartment building just as the dawn breaks. The entire block is quiet; everyone surely still sleeping at this early hour.

Cillian spots Sean, who’s been keeping an eye on the place to make sure Orlando doesn’t sneak away. He nods at Cillian, then at the apartment, indicating he’s still inside. Cillian sends him a quick text telling him to stay put just in case we need someone on the street. Eoghan and Cillian refuse to let me go in there alone without knowing who else could be inside. I personally don’t give a fuck. Anyone who tries to stop me from getting to that asshole is going to be met with a bullet between the eyes, no questions asked.

When Eoghan parks the nondescript sedan on the side of the tree-lined street, we all check our weapons. The three of us are going in armed to the teeth with various pistols and knives strapped to our bodies. There’s even a syringe in my pocket filled with a little night-night concoction so we can get him out of there as quietly as possible. I’m going to do everything in my power to take him alive so I can fulfill my promise to my wife, but if shit goes sideways, I won’t be too broken up about killing the man myself.

There’s no doorman or lobby for the building, and Eoghan makes quick work of the lock so we can enter the building without having to ring an apartment. For some reason, it doesn’t surprise me that Orlando wouldn’t have put the girl up in a nicer place. He’s a cheap son of a bitch with an ego the size of Texas. He probably thinks he’s untouchable in his own territory, and until tonight, that was most likely true. Though, I am surprised he isn’t hiding somewhere with a few more safety protocols in place. From what Alessia has told me about him, he likes to hit the bottle and has a nasty little drug habit to go along with his alcoholism. It’s doubtful he’s in his right mind, especially if he was celebrating getting what he thought was the upper hand by attacking my home.

We silently make our way to the second floor of the building.

Eoghan tries the handle before opening the door, but it’s locked. “Worth a shot.” He whispers. “You’d be surprised how often you can avoid picking a lock because the door’s unlocked.” He leans down and quickly disables it using his considerable skill. As far as I know, he doesn’t go around breaking into people’s houses, so Lord only knows why he decided to learn this. That’s Eoghan, though. He decides to pick up a new skill and has to master it.

When he steps back from the door, we all draw our weapons. Eoghan opens the door and waits a beat before entering.

The apartment is dark. Nothing is in the living room except several empty beer bottles and a tall vodka bottle knocked on its side. And wouldn’t you know, I spy a pill bottle with several crushed tablets on the table. Looks like someone was on a mission to get fucked up last night.

A short hallway leads to two doors. The first is a bathroom, and the second door sits ajar. I peer in and see two figures sleeping soundly on the bed. We enter the room, and neither person stirs. When I get to Orlando’s side of the bed, I raise my gun with the silencer attached to the barrel and point it at his head. Cillian has his gun trained on his girlfriend. Neither of us relishes the idea of hurting a woman, but if she tries to draw on us…I’m just hoping it doesn’t come to that.

I press the muzzle to Orlando’s forehead, and his eyes open with a start. His body jerks, which wakes the sleeping woman next to him. When she opens her mouth to scream, Cillian clamps his palm over it and lays the muzzle of the gun on her temple. “Don’t make me use this.”

Of course, we both know he wouldn’t, but she doesn’t.

“What the fuck?” Orlando hisses. “She has nothing to do with anything. Don’t hurt her.”

Interesting. He’s worried about her safety.

“Get up slowly and keep your hands in the air. We’re walking out quietly. I don’t want to have to carry you.” I inch back but keep my gun trained on Orlando’s head. He stands to his full height in nothing but a pair of boxers.

“Can I get my pants?” he asks, pointing to the denim that’s strewn over a chair in the corner.

I grab them and check the pockets for weapons before tossing them in his direction. “Get dressed.”

He slides the pants on and just as he finishes buttoning them, he darts for the bedroom door. Eoghan steps in his path before he can cross the threshold and smashes his gun over Orlando’s skull, knocking him out cold.

“Goddammit, now we have to carry him,” I mumble, taking the syringe from my pocket and jabbing it in his neck.

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