Page 85 of The Warlord

“Slow down, lass,” I told her, sucking in a hissed breath as my ribs started screaming at me.

I caught a glimpse of her wide gray eyes as she glanced over her shoulder. “Sorry, but there’s no fucking way I’m slowing down right now.”

“Nobody’s chasing us. You can slow down.”

This time it was an incredulous look from the rearview mirror. “What?”

Drawing in a shallow inhale through my nose, I repeated myself, adding, “Finnan isn’t going to kill me. We made a deal.”

Shaking her head, she muttered something under her breath.

Prompting her, I asked, “What was that?”

“What kind of deal, Grayson? One where you’re indebted to him for the rest of your life? One where you promised to stay away from me? One where he can ask you to kill me at any time?”

A small smile cracked my lips for the first time since she was abducted. Sloane was concerned for my life, though, and that deserved a smile. “Remember I told you I got shot?”

She nodded.

“I got shot trying to protect Finnan’s life.” Turning my head, I looked out the rain-streaked window. “We were walking to a meet when a sniper took out Finnan’s father, Kellen.” I ran a hand over my face, wincing when I forgot that I’d been beaten so severely. The throb that had disappeared when I’d seen Sloane came back with a vengeance. “I was only a caddie at the time, but when I saw Kellen go down, I knew Finnan would be the next target. So, I stood in front of him just as the crack of a rifle echoed through the air. I was hit in the shoulder.”

My tongue was thick as I remembered that day again. “The event itself is hazy after that. It was snatched conversations here and there. A ride to the hospital. Being rushed down a white hallway with bright fluorescent lighting. Waking up hooked to tubes and wires and machines afterward. But there was one thing I remember with absolute clarity.”

“What was that?”

“Finnan told me he owed me a life for saving his.”

“That explains the look in your eyes. It was like you were telling me to be careful… to think about what I was asking for.”

“Aye, lass. I was already safe. If you had told Finnan you wanted to save me instead, you would’ve condemned yourself to a lifetime of mistreatment and pain.”

She let out a shuddering breath, slowing the car as she took an off-ramp. I had a brief moment to marvel at her. She was heading back to Galway.

“How do you know where you’re going?”

“My father trained me to remember routes and directions in the likely event I was kidnapped.” Humor danced in her eyes. “I’m heading back to my apartment, or what’s left of my apartment, I guess, unless you have another destination in mind?”

I did. I gave her the directions to get to Fallon and my house. When she pulled up, she got out of the car immediately and opened the back door. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe—looking for any other injuries she may have missed the first time—before she helped me sit, then swung my legs out. They took my weight, but my ribs were still hurting like a sonofabitch, and my breathing was ragged by the time we reached the door.

Fallon opened it before I could, her blue eyes wide as she took me in. “Jesus, Grayson.” She helped Sloane get me inside. “On the couch,” she commanded, her training to become a nurse taking over.

From my recumbent position, I watched as she hurried off, returning a moment later with a first-aid kit and an expression that let me know she hated seeing me like this. I had to admit it was humbling. I hadn’t been on the receiving end of a beating for nearly a decade.

Fallon opened the kit, selecting gauze and saline to start the patch job. “Where does it hurt?”

“Mostly the right side of my body.”

“Dizzy? Spotting vision or hearing?”

“Just a pounding headache.”

She pursed her lips. “What about breathing?”

“Glad to be doing it still.”

She palpated my ribs, where the skin was starting to go purple with bruising. “Tender?”

I sucked in a hiss and nodded. My eyes flickered to Sloane, where she stood against the wall, her fingers winding together as she watched. I kept my gaze locked on her while my sister doctored the wounds on my face, only breaking contact when Fallon had to reposition herself to cut off my t-shirt.

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