Page 111 of Lucky Strike

My stomach grumbles, reminding me that we haven’t eaten since early this morning. Liam was so excited about school today, too.Those assholes. Will they bring us food, or just leave us to starve? It might not be a good idea to eat anything they give us, anyway.

Gently shifting Liam’s head to the small pillow on the couch, I make my way over to the window again and press my face against the cool glass. My guess is that we were abducted by enemies of the syndicate. But why? What do they want? Lucky’s desperate words about danger and risk taunt me now. He knew just how dark this life can truly get, and he tried to warn me. But I can’t regret my choices, not when they’re what kept me close to Liam. No matter what happens today, that little boy has me.

There has to be a way out of here. We can’t just sit and wait for them to do God-knows-what to us. But even as I think it, I know it’s not that easy. We’re outnumbered, I’m slightly injured, and Liam’s only five. Even if we did manage to escape—then what? Where would we even go? I tap my lip, wondering if Liam’s watch has a map feature or something.

Voices just outside the door send my heartbeat careening. I hurry back to the couch right as two men charge through the door. Liam sits up, looking around groggily as he clings to my hand. “There’s been a change of plans,” says the calm man, only he doesn’t sound too calm anymore.

Alarmed, I tighten my grip on Liam. “What do you mean?”

“Get up,” he says, reaching for Liam. I turn away, trying to resist him, but he shoves me back and takes him anyway. Liam whimpers and kicks his legs, straining for me, but the man just readjusts his grip. Downstairs, someone yells.

“Don’t hurt him,” I cry.

The other man takes my arm and yanks me up, not as gentle as before. I bite back the pain as he tugs on the blindfold and ushers me from the room. The commotion intensifies as we return to the first floor, a chaotic mess of sharp voices, hurried footsteps, and doors slamming. Two shots ring out in the near distance, somewhere outside. I flinch, freezing.Lucky.That has to be Lucky.

Another shot, closer. The man holding me curses, his grip loosening, and I bump into what feels like a doorframe. Unthinking, I pull off my blindfold. We’re in the doorway to the kitchen. Across the room, the back door is ajar. The man carrying Liam pauses next to the sink, reaching for a set of keys. Car keys?They can’t take him. I’m grabbed again, but I twist away, my legs carrying me across the room to execute a plan I haven’t thought through. Lunging up, I chop at an angle, catching the man holding Liam in the throat the way Tristan taught me. Well, kind of. It’s pretty sloppy, but it screws him up enough that he stumbles and drops Liam.

Liam scrambles to his feet, reaching for me. Our fingertips graze each other, and then something heavy and hard slams into the back of the head. “Dumb bitch.” Pain blooms across my skull, threatening to steal my consciousness. Falling to my knees, I shove Liam toward the open door. I don’t know who’s out there, and I just heard more gunshots, but there are no other options. “Go,” I scream as footsteps thunder behind me. “Run, Liam!” Obedient for once, he takes off like an arrow shot from a bow, making it out the door as I’m hit again, this time in my ribs.

That … that was intentional. He knew just where to hit me. I meet the ground with a graceless thump, darkness rolling in like high tide.

32.Lucky

Now

Terry and I are parked off the road in a wooded, sparsely populated part of Weston where the houses are separated by acres. Heavy, dark clouds and a thick strip of low-lying fog make it feel way later than it actually is, and it’s been drizzling all day, leaving the road damp.

We sit in silence, waiting for the others to arrive. Terry, taciturn by nature, sits calmly, but I’m suffocating in this nightmare of my own making. Every minute that passes without knowing exactly where Liam and Bria are, whether they’re okay, sends another surge of fear through my body. I’m reminded, with every rapid pulse of my racing heart, that I’ve lost control of the situation—a situation I probably never had control of to begin with.

How arrogant have I been?

The lives of the people I love most hang in the balance because of choices thatIhave made. I can’t blame the Sokolovs or who they were working with. I can’t even really blame the people who have Liam and Bria, though they will pay the price today. No, I have only myself to blame. We really do die by the sword when we try to live by it.

The irony is that I knew better. I tried to keep Bria at arm’s length,not once but twice: when we were younger and I left her, and then when she came back into my life. I played with fire by allowing her to live in my home, but I couldn’t resist the burn … because I'd never really gotten over her.What a fool. I indulged and took what I wanted, chasing her even when she tried to keep it professional, and now she's paying the price.

And Liam, blood of my blood. The most innocent one of all. He would have been better off with his mother, but he wasn’t given the chance to know her or even choose her before she was taken from him. Now he’s stuck with a father who can never give him the safety, attention, and time he deserves. Whose loyalty will forever be splintered between family and a syndicate that cares more for its survival than the people that make it up. Has it always been this way? How did my parents survive?

Headlights pierce the mist behind us. I stiffen, hand on my gun, but it’s just Tristan and the guys. He and Finn left Callaghan’s the second I called, dropping everything to pick up Malachi and Alex—who’s still recovering from last night’s bullet—and come straight here.

I take a fortifying breath, studying Liam’s smartwatch app against a detailed Google map of Weston. I hope to God Liam’s still got that watch on. The red dot stopped moving about an hour ago, so if the location is accurate, he and Bria should be located on an estate about a half mile up.

Terry and I climb out of the car as the others approach. Alex’s face is solemn as he touches my arm. “Hey, Lucky. Can you drop a pin on the location and text it to me?” I do, sending it to everyone present, and he nods, pulling his hoodie up over his head. “Gonna go scope the property with Mal. Be right back.”

They disappear into the woods. Fifteen minutes later, a massive, black SUV pulls up behind Tristan’s Defender. Donovan slides out of the driver’s seat, followed by a group of his closest men, all armed to the teeth. I go to meet him, feeling infinitesimally better that someone who outranks me—by age, wisdom, and honor, if not position—is here. He grabs me in a painfully tight hug. “We’ll get them back, Lucky.”

Unable to speak for a second, I just nod. I trust every man here, but Donovan is in a league of his own, the next best thing after my own father. It killed Dad to stay back, but we decided as a family that heshould stay home. He’s not quite out of the woods yet, medically, and I can’t focus on saving Liam and Bria if I’m worried about my father’s heart, too.

“All right,” I call, gesturing for everyone to gather around me. Every one of these men is loyal to Saoirse, my family, me. Not just because I was chosen to lead them, but because we’ve had each other’s backs as long as we’ve been alive. “As soon as Alex and Malachi get back, we’ll have a better read on the situation.”

“How long’s it been, you think?” Tristan slides a jacket over his body armor.

“I got the notification around ten fifteen this morning.” I glance at my watch. “So, about three hours now. Give or take.”

A text comes through from Alex, letting me know they’re on their way back. I announce it to the rest of the team so that no one is caught off guard when they come out of the woods. Within minutes, Alex and Malachi emerge from the fog, flipping back their hoods as they jog over.

The group converges just inside the tree line. “What did you see?” I ask.

“One house, pretty big,” says Alex. “A small shed, too. Both set way back from the road, up a long driveway. Didn’t see anybody patrolling the surrounding woods, but there are two guys in the driveway, strapped.”

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