Page 80 of Dublin Devil

What the hell kind of party are they throwing?

And then it clicks. The rows of white chairs leading to an arbor weighed down and choking with flowers. The long, red carpet leading from the house to the podium set beneath the arbor.

“It’s a fucking wedding.”

Bryan stops scanning for danger and takes it in. “Is this Mattie making sure Piper can’t get out of his contract?”

My world tilts and my vision flips. Everything around me is tainted red. It’s like a lens of savage hatred and the need to kill falls over me like a fiery film.

Mattie McGuire will die for this.

It’s a truth I know, down to the depth of my aching soul. He will bleed for this, and it will be by my hand.

I crouch low, moving from shadow to shadow, the cool night air carrying the promise of revenge.

We pass Brendan and Duke dragging a downed guard into the bushes and position ourselves in view of the side entrance. There are catering trucks parked along the side of the house and party workers moving in and out.

I tap my earpiece. “In position. Ready for our diversion, Gallagher.”

“Then get ready for the fireworks, boss. In three, two, one…”

There’s a beat of silence when I wait for the night to erupt, and then it does. Just down the beach, a fiery burst of explosion lights up the sky and then another. By the time the third goes off, party guests are flooding out of the house and into the backyard.

That’s our cue.

Like ghosts, Bryan and I surge forward. Anyone hired for the event back away when they see us racing up the corridors.

The first guard we come across doesn’t have time to sound the alarm. Brendan is a crack shot and with his silencer in place, the guard is down, a silent heap sliding down the golden damask wallpaper, before he can react.

Adrenaline surges as we push deeper into the house.

The chaos of the warehouses exploding down the beach has drawn almost everyone out of the house. Men are shouting furiously in the back, and as much as I’d love to see the look on Mattie’s face as he’s watching his warehouses burn, he’s not my priority.

“That looks promising.” Brendan points the barrel of his gun down a side corridor to where two armed guards are standing outside a door.

Their focus is locked on a window to the back of the house. They have no idea we’ve got them in our sights.

“Shoot first, ask questions later?” Brendan asks.

“Not with the possibility that Piper could come out that door. Wing them, but keep things low.”

“A challenge. I like it. You’ve got left. I’m right.” Brenny strides forward, letting off two shots in quick succession.

I plug the guy on the left in the thigh. With any luck, I caught his femoral artery, but I don’t care. The only thing I care about is Piper. “Finish them up close and personal.”

“Roger that.” Brendan lets his assault rifle fall to his side on its harness and pulls out his Glock.

As he closes the distance on the two bleeding on the floor, I storm through the chaos and kick the door open. Wood splinters as the slab swings on its hinges, but the only thing I see is Piper.

She’s wide-eyed and bound by her wrists to the frame of the bed.

She’s alive.

That’s all that matters to me—until I see blood staining the inside of her thighs.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Piper

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