Page 33 of Crimson Tears

She scrambles upright as the man I am pushing away from her yells at me. “I’m on your side. Get out of here.”

My brain catches on that this is a rescue mission and we dart out of the back together, just as the engine of the vehicle bursts into flames.

One of the crates from the back tumbles out from the explosion and falls on me. My feet stumble and my body hits the dirt as flames race toward me, threatening to burn me alive.

That’s when I see it. Ginger hair and a face as bright and beautiful as the sun. A hand a little smaller than mine reaches out, pulling me from the debris.

She grabs some of the dirt around us, tossing it over my socks which I now realize are engulfed in flames. My skin is screaming as I watch her, but maybe shock has settled into me because I don’t react. I heard the term when my mother was watching some medical drama, how you freeze even when you’re in pain. That sounds like what’s happening now.

“You saved my sister,” she says, pulling me in for a hug. “Thank you.”

I don’t respond, I just wrap my arms around her. A sense of home and freedom tugs at my heart. I don’t miss my parents right here, I don’t want to run home. All I want is to stay right here with her.

Then the pain starts to kick in and I hiss. She jumps back, pulling my feet from the dirt, causing me to nearly cry out.

“Shite, Papa!” The man I’ve always known to fear comes to my side, concern laced in his features.

“He saved Enya. Can we help him?”

The man takes a minute to stare at me before nodding.

“I will call the doctor. Enya says all of the others are accounted for. We will be taking her to the hospital. We can take him as well.”

“Thank you,” I say as he stands. Immediately, I want to take it back as he pulls me to my feet. It feels like every square inch of them is burnt to a crisp.

I think actually walking on liquid lava would hurt less than the trek to the car, but the girl stays with me the whole way. When we get to the running vehicle, Enya is in the back. She quickly makes room, and her sister pushes in beside me while her father and another man take up the front seat.

“Thank you, Cil,” Enya says with tears in her eyes.

“Anytime, little one.” I wrap an arm around her as her sister stares at us. She has these golden eyes that seem to shine even brighter with the light of the flames outside.

“I’m Nessa,” she says quietly, her eyes flitting to her father before returning to me.

“Cillian,” I say with a nod as Enya separates herself from my side. “Thank you for saving me.”

Nessa is in blacked-out gear, her hair tied up on her head. She looks to be about the same age as I am, but you can tell that she has had to grow up much quicker. Her sister too.

There is a heaviness to their stare that I have a feeling is due to the man sitting in front of me. He is not someone to be messed with, but I already dislike him simply for the way his daughters look at him. It is as if they fear him as much as they want to be accepted by him.

For some reason I can’t explain, my hand reaches for Nessa’s, and our fingers tangle together as if we were created for each other. This need to protect her and her sister rises fiercely within me.

Nessa saved me, so no matter what I need to do, I will find a way to save her too. Even if I have to grow up and take on the leader of the Irish mafia himself.

“Let’s go shower,” Boris says with a laugh.

“Noooooo. I want some of that bread you were making with Cillian.”

“I’ll get some for her,” I offer. She looks up at me as the sweetest smile touches her face.

“Killer, you’re here.”

I look at Boris with a snort. “How much did they drink?”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Nessa mumbles, but we do exactly that.

“Alexi found a bottle of vodka and two bottles of wine completely empty by the pool.”

I whistle, reaching out for Nessa to help steady her. She leans nearly all of her body weight on me immediately.

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