Page 114 of Lucky Strike

She pats his arm as she exits, leaving the door halfway open.

He sinks slowly into the chair my mom just vacated, hands claspedbetween his knees. I expect him to hold my hand like she did, but he just sits there, staring at me. His face is unreadable, but his eyes are twin rainstorms, turbulent and dark. After a long moment, he looks down. “I thought I lost you for real this time,” he says, his voice cracking.

He presses his fingers to his eyes, and I realize that he’s crying. The sight shakes something loose inside me. I love him so much that it hurts. I reach for his hand, and he takes it, pulling himself closer to my side.

“Ma said I fell.” I pause, biting my lip. “But I know that’s not true.”

Lucky shakes his head slightly.

Another memory slots into place. “What about Tristan? Is he okay?”

“He got out of surgery late last night,” he says quietly. “He was shot once in the arm. Another bullet grazed him in the side. He was lucky.”

“Oh, my God.” I clench my eyes shut. “And Liam? Mom said he’s okay, but I—” I pause, trying not to cry, but it’s pointless. My emotions are all over the place and probably will be for a while. “I just remember him running.”

Lucky brings my hand to his lips, kissing it. “He said you hit the bad man and then told him to run. Donovan caught him as he came around the house and brought him back to the car. You probably saved his life, Bria.” His face crumples, and he leans forward, resting it on the side of my bed. “You really are Hero.”

My heart breaks. I’ve never seen him so devastated. I touch his hair, stroking it, crying while he cries. “Was it the Bratva?”

Shaking his head, he brings his lips to my ear. “I’ll tell you everything once you’re home.”

“But are we safe?” I breathe, just loud enough for him to hear. “Is it going to be okay?”

Leaning forward, he presses a delicate kiss to my forehead. “Yes.”

“When can I see Liam?”

“Want me to have my mom bring him by?”

“Yes,” I whisper, my eyes welling. It’s not enough to hear my little guy is okay—I need to see him with my own eyes.

When Sloane brings him, he hesitates in the doorway, clutching Brax, his eyes flickering warily between Lucky and me.

I hold out my arms. “C’mere.”

His little face lights up at the sound of my voice, and he dartsforward. “Bria!” Lucky catches him before he can fling himself onto my bed, but he squirms to reach me. “You woke up!”

“I’m feeling a lot better,” I promise him, even though that’s kind of a lie.

“I wanna get down, Dad,” he says, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Let me down.”

“If I let you hug Bria, you have to be really careful okay? Her ribs are hurting,” Lucky says, touching Liam’s own ribs to show him. “Okay?”

Stilling at his father’s words, Liam gives a solemn nod. After a moment, Lucky lowers him carefully, keeping the brunt of his son’s weight off of me while still allowing us to hug.

“Hey, buddy,” I whisper, pressing my face into his hair. It smells like grape shampoo and home. I squeeze him a little tighter, my heart clenching as tears trickle down my cheeks.

How close were we to losing all of this?

I’m releasedfrom the hospital, an exclusive, upscale facility in Charlestown, three days later. Afterward, Maeve explains that it’s been associated with Saoirse since the late seventies. It’s the syndicate’s go-to when dealing with sensitive matters requiring discretion.

Lucky sets me up in a guest bedroom on the main floor of the townhouse while Ma takes my room upstairs.

“I’ll be fine, Ma—” I protest when she tells me she’s staying.

“I’m a nurse, Bria, and I’m your mother.” She fluffs my pillow. “You’re literally my job.”

“I just hate that you’re using vacation time for this.”

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