Page 4 of Dublin Devil

The night air is cool, cooler still because of my wet dress and the warm blood gracing my skin from several lacerations. I run down the sidewalk a little, staring out at the lights shining on the surface of the river.

Numb and not knowing what to do, I lift my phone to call my brother Ryan.

My phone is dead.Right.It took a swim in the orchid vase. A taxi then. I’ll grab a taxi…

I realize my mistake the moment I hear the thundering footfalls of angry men approaching. In a state of sheer panic and shock, I lingered outside the hotel for too long.

Vladimir and Arkady are racing down the sidewalk and are almost upon me. I run as fast as I can for several blocks, not knowing where to go.

I can’t go home. My father expected me to obey his wishes. He gave me to the Russians.

Da is a brutal man when people within the organization don’t do as he orders. I thought I was immune to his cruelty, but I’m not.

I’m not safe and won’t be safe as long as I’m in Da’s territory. I need to leave the city and give him time to calm down.

I’ll make him understand somehow. Mam will understand. She’ll know what to do?—

The hit comes hard from behind. I’m knocked forward and the concrete of the sidewalk rushes up to meet my face. My collision to the ground is indescribable. The world goes black…and fuzzy.

I’m dazed.

The first kick catches me in the side. I scream and curl up like a shrimp. The second connects with my shoulder and rolls me onto my back. Arkady leans in and grabs me, hauling me to my feet.

I spin, trying to claw his beady eyes out with my fingernails, but he outweighs me by a hundred pounds.

He punches me in the face and my head snaps back as pain explodes in my right eye. I can’t breathe. The pain is so intense it’s like I’m drowning in it.

Vladimir catches up and joins the beat-up-Piper party. He reaches across his body and backhand slaps me. Then again with his open palm. Then the backhand. My head cranks to the side, the Volkov family ring he bragged about at dinner cutting my flesh with each assault.

Dizzy and disoriented, I throw up. Wagyu chunks fly and Vladmir steps back, cursing in Russian. When the second round of vomiting starts, I turn my head and spew at Arkady.

He has the self-preservation to shove me away, and the moment I’m free, I run.

The hotel is only a city block inland from the River Liffey and now that I see the bridge spanning the waterway, I know where I’m headed.

My only chance of surviving these two is to leave my father’s territory and hope they know enough about the Quinns to not follow me.

My lungs burn for oxygen as I run across the bridge. Too dizzy, I pay little attention to the horns honking at me to get off the road and out of the way.

The Russians shout behind me.

More horns honk and a couple of vehicles swerve and barely miss me. Brakes screech and I scream as I cut through traffic to get to the other side.

A siren sounds in the distance, but I don’t think it’s for me. And if it is, that’s fine too.

I’ve done nothing wrong.

I did everything right and yet, here I am.

I cast a frenzied glance over my shoulder to see if they’re still after me. I don’t see them, but I can’t see much. Between my vision fritzing in and out and the blood-matted hair in my eyes, they could still be there.

My footing is sloppy by the time I make it to the north end of the bridge and cross the road to the sidewalk. A long row of shops on the far side might offer me some shelter.

It’s late and raining and there are no pedestrians.

No one out for a stroll.

No one to help me.

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