Page 36 of The Chief's Captive

I reel around and my jaw drops open. Whoever this asshole is, he knows I'm pregnant? The only other person in the world who knows is the doctor—who didn't come back. I take a step backward and shake my head.

"No," I whisper softly, and he laughs as he steps closer to me. He uses the tip of his gun, still hot from shooting that man in the hallway, and brushes the hair off my face.

"Such a shame such a beautiful woman has to die for such an irritating asshole to grow big enough balls to show his face." The gun slides down my cheek and across my chin where he uses it to push my head up. "And the baby…" He clicks his tongue. "He'd have been a very proud father, wouldn't he?"

"Please," I whimper. I don’t want to die. I'm still trembling and blinking my eyes against the onslaught of tears, but it's useless.

"Oh, she begs… How sweet. Did you beg him too? When he had you pinned down fucking you, did you beg him to stop? Or did you beg him to keep going? Because I can show you what a real man is like if you want, honey."

I turn my face away, refusing to look at his beady green eyes for a second longer. If he's going to kill me, I hope he makes it quick. My God, I wish Ronan were here right now.

25

RONAN

Finn pushes the pedal down, the engine growling as we tear through the streets of Dublin. My heart is pounding in my chest. Every second counts, every passing block feels like a lifetime. I glance in the sideview mirror—my brothers are still behind me, but they’re not as close as I’d like. Too many lives are at risk. I can’t afford to lose any of them.

The sound of tires skidding on wet pavement fills my ears, but it’s drowned out by the rush of panic rising in my throat. The threat came too damn fast. Too damn sudden. I don’t have time to second-guess anything. I just need to get home. To Maeve.

Finn slams his foot on the gas harder, the car shooting down the familiar streets, but nothing feels familiar anymore. It’s as if the city has turned on me, everything now a blur of shadows and headlights. My gut twists. The closer I get to the house, the more the air thickens with dread. Adrenaline courses through my veins as we speed toward our destination. I feel the weight of responsibility heavy on my shoulders, knowing I have to protect my family no matter what.

I can see the gates before I even turn the corner, wide open like an invitation to hell. My stomach drops as we pull into the driveway, my eyes scanning the house in the distance, but all I see is… nothing. Silence. A silence that screams danger. Finn pulls the car to a stop and barely waits for it to fully halt before I’m out, my boots slamming against the cold concrete. The air is thick with the scents of damp earth and rain-soaked grass, mixed with the metallic tang of fear creeping up my throat.

The front door’s ajar. Blood. It’s everywhere, just waiting to tell me what I already know—my men didn’t make it.

I can feel the fire building inside me. I storm across the lawn, hand already on my gun, eyes darting for any movement, any sign of life, but the only thing that greets me is that damn silence.

It’s too late. Eamon’s already here.

More tires squeal on the pavement, this time my driveway. My brothers are here. Others are enroute. This is definitely a trap. Eamon has set me up. This was his plan, to make me so distracted hunting for him that he could sweep into my own home and create a strong room to make his final stand against me.

I turn to face my brothers, their faces ashen as they get out of their vehicles. “Get the fucking ambulance here now!” I bark. “And get me 999 on the line. We’re going to need all the backup we can get.” I take a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands. “Maeve,” I say through gritted teeth. “Find Maeve.”

As one unit, we move toward the house. They flank me. I know we're walking into a trap, and there will definitely be morebloodshed. I can only hope that whatever sickening plot Eamon has, he leaves Maeve out of this.

Before we even walk through the door, I send Finn and Connor around back. Lochlan steps in my way and squares his shoulders. "Ro, I should go first. He's waiting for you in there."

"Now's not the time to be a hero," I growl and start to walk around him, but he puts a hand on my chest and halts me, and Declan speaks up.

"He's right, Ronan. Let us go first and clear a path. Eamon's here for you. We have to protect our leader." Declan has finally decided to show up as the enforcer he is, and while I hate what he's saying, I know he's right. This family needs their leader, and I have to put that priority first above getting to Maeve.

Before they're even fully in the house, gunshots erupt. Bullets zing past my ears, and I crouch to use Declan's body as a shield. We open fire and advance. My men lay on the floor dead, bloodstains everywhere. I can't take time to touch them, but I know they're still warm. He hasn't even been here long enough for the authorities to have been called, so hopefully, that means Maeve is still alive, hidden somewhere.

"Eamon, show your face!" Declan's voice booms out, and we push farther into the house. Furniture is destroyed, the curtains are torn, and there isn't an area rug that isn't caked in blood.

More shots reverberate, and we duck into rooms for cover. Someone up the hallway is shooting at us, likely from the kitchen. The thick oak doors provide a modicum of protection, but too many shots and they'll splinter.

"Move, Loch!" I shout as soon as the silence comes, and we dart down the hallway. Screaming comes from out back, and Declanand Lochlan race to help our brothers, but my aim is to find Eamon.

The others must have retreated out the back of the house and Lochlan chases them out. I turn and listen to the silence in my home. The only room we didn't pass was my bedroom. I haven't seen a trace of Maeve, which means she may be in there, and while I know I shouldn't go in alone, there isn't a force on Earth strong enough to stop me.

I push open the door with my foot and enter with my gun raised, pointing into the room. I take two steps past Ryan, who lays in a puddle of his own blood near the doorway, and before I can react, something comes down on my hands hard. I'm taken by surprise in seeing the lamp from my bedside table shatter over my weapon and hands before I drop the gun and pull my arms back.

My hands are cut and bleeding, and Eamon kicks my gun away from me as he jabs his weapon against my skull and laughs.

"It's a bout fucking time you showed your face around here. I was getting bored." He nudges me with the end of the gun, and I raise my hands slowly in surrender. If I make any sudden movement, he'll kill me on the spot, but my gut tells me if I play my cards right, I may get the drop on him. His lamp-swinging goon, however, may be a problem.

"What are you doing in my home?" I ask him calmly, though on the inside I'm anything but calm. My chest is hammering. I'm ready to tear him limb from limb. I've been searching for this lunatic for almost two solid weeks now and he's finally within my reach.

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