Page 28 of Raptor

"I know who you are." I hear the thickness of his voice. "Mallory Reagan, I've been watching you. Waiting for the right moment to get my revenge."

I stare into the white orbs of the man's eyes, and I know instantly who it is. Micah O'Leary. "What?" I breathe.

"You were there," he snarls, his breath hot against my face, the knife pressing deeper against my throat. "You watched as my brother was murdered, and you did nothing. You just stood back and watched that animal kill him."

"What could I do?" I ask, my entire body trembling with fear. "What should I have done?"

I froze that night. I was rooted to the spot and I froze. There was nothing I could have done other than try to pull Stephen away from him. But Stephen outweighs me and is a hell of a lot taller than me. What would have happened had I tried to intervene?

"You did nothing," he snarls. "Not a fucking thing. And because of that, we had to bury my brother."

I hate that he's angry. I completely understand his anger, but there was nothing I could have done. I was never going to help. Stephen was always going to kill Jarlath for touching Jess and nothing anyone did would have stopped it. Nothing.

"He's dead, and it's because of you and that bastard Maguire. I'm going to enjoy toying with you."

His knife slices through the skin at the base of my neck, and then he drags the blade down to my chest. I whimper, tears falling thick and fast. My mind is focused on making sure that he doesn't get to Shay. I can't—won't let him hurt my baby. I'll endure anything if it means he'll stay the hell away from my son.

The knife gets deeper as he slices through my shirt and into the skin on my chest, before pulling the knife down to my arm. I feel my blood soaking through my clothes and onto the bed beneath me. "Stop," I plead, my voice coming out in a hiss.

"You never said that to Maguire, not until it was too late," he growls as he continues to slice along my skin. "I'm going to break you, Mallory. I'm going to ensure that you're a sobbing mess before I kill you. You can call it karma for what you've done."

"Nothing," I cry. "I did nothing."

He lifts off me, the knife moves away, and I'm able to take a deep breath. The pain from the cuts is painful, but I'm so focused on him that I push it from my mind. I need to keep my focus elsewhere, otherwise I'll lose it.

"Exactly," he sneers. "You did nothing."

I hear Ma’s bedroom door open, and I watch as Micah gets a sinister smile on his face. "I'll be seeing you soon, Mallory. I'd keep one eye open at all times."

He thrusts the knife into my stomach, and just as quickly as he stabbed me, he withdraws the blade and rushes from the room. I'm in shock, unable to move as blood pours from my wound like a fucking river. I slap my hand over the wound to try to stop the blood, but it's no use. The liquid gushes through my fingers.

"What are you doing here?" Ma screams. "Mallory? Mallory?"

She rushes into my room, flicking on the light. She releases a horrified cry as she moves toward me. "Oh Mallory," she cries. "It's going to be okay. I promise it'll be okay. I'll get you to a hospital."

I shake my head. "No, we have to leave. He'll come for us," I say through ragged breathing. "He's nowhere near finished with me, Ma."

She's sobbing as she tries to help me stop the bleeding. Shay's cries fill the room.

"Ma, help Shay," I whisper as my body begins to sink into the darkness. "No hospital, Ma."

"No hospital, baby," she cries. "I'm going to get help, okay?"

I nod, praying she'll take care of Shay as I'm pulled into the abyss.

Chapter 12

Raptor

FIFTEEN WEEKS LATER

"Brother, you good?" Wrath asks as he slides a beer over to me. "You've been sitting here for the past thirty minutes. What's up?"

"Nothin'," I say as I reach for the beer and take a sip.

"Bullshit, Rap. You've been fuckin' down for months. Is it the woman?"

"Don't," I say through clenched teeth. This isn't the first time one of my brothers has told me to forget her. I've had the majority of them say it. Pyro and Rush haven't. They both know what Mallory means to me. It's fucked up that it's been six months since I arrived in Ireland, six fucking months, and I've not heard a fucking peep about where she is.

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