Page 129 of Shattered Hearts

The terror inside me doesn’t subside. For several horrible minutes, I wonder if the gunfire will ever stop, if the De Lucas are going to follow us all the way back to the estate, if they’re going to keep coming after us for the rest of our lives.If this darkest night of my life will ever end.

Soon enough, though, the gunfire ceases, like a storm breaking open to a clear, dark sky. Cian distances us from the safe house with the speed of a charging train, and the quiet after the fury is deafening.

Darren and Rory speak fast and low under their breath, and in a few moments, they split up. Darren climbs over Finn and me to get into the passenger seat, and Rory dials the Gallagher Medical Unit to prepare them for us and report casualties.

All the panic and exhaustion of the last week collapse on me at once. Whatever dam I’d built inside me to hold back the full force of my emotions is demolished. Tears flow until my eyes swell and burn, and my throat tightens and dries into sandpaper.

Every few minutes, Cian smashes the steering wheel with his fist, a steady stream of curses in English and Gaelic trailing from his mouth.

When I close my eyes, I see my sister’s face twisted in terror, her body bound, bruised, and writhing in pain.

Despair devours me with every passing moment.

I try to open my eyes, but the sight of Finn’s broken, unconscious body in front of me offers zero comfort. Seeing all the damage Enzo De Luca did to Finn only multiplies my grief and fear.

The dark night enclosing us gentles overhead, periwinkle smudging the horizon as we drive back to the city.

Instead of veering left toward the garage, Cian pulls the van into the circle. A medical team waits with a stretcher to receive Finn at the mouth of the estate gardens.

Darren and Rory climb out of the van first and jog toward the main entrance of the mansion to report to Shane.

While the medical personnel gently extract a still-unconscious Finn from the back of the van and strap him onto the stretcher, Cian removes himself from the driver’s seat. I’m the last to get out of the van, my legs achy and asleep from sitting cross-legged beneath Finn for well over an hour.

When I stumble out of the van, a big hand steadies me before I fall onto the cobblestones. Cian motions to Jon to take the caravan back to the garage, and Jon does as he’s told. He nods to us, his already gruesome face twisted with grief.

When he’s gone, Cian and I are the only two left.

I don’t know what to do with myself or where to go. Right now, I don’t know which way is up.

I just know the love of my life is broken and unconscious, and my sister might be in the hands of that sick bastard.

Nausea bubbles up in my throat.

Cian still grips my arm, his gaze heavy when he turns to me. “I’ll find Harper and bring her back alive. I swear.”

My face stings. Tears pool in my eyes, which shouldn’t be possible since all the water in my body came out of me on the drive here.

I swipe my free hand over my face. “Do you think he really has her?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. Rory and I have already been searching, but now finding Harper is top priority.”

Even though I don’t trust anything right now, the promise in his voice convinces me to trust him.

I want to believe everything will be okay in the end, but this is the mafia, not some fairy tail.

Happily ever after and the mafia don’t go together.

“I can’t bear it.” My voice shakes. “Thinking about…what could be happening to her.”

Cian balls his fists, muscles standing against his jaw.

“Go with Finn.” Fiery determination percolates in his green eyes, as though he’s already forming a plan. “I have work to do.”

On trembling legs, I jog after the medical team wheeling Finn between the hedgerows that lead to the garden maze.

The Gallagher Medical Unit is a subterranean health clinic located beneath the estate’s garden grounds. The space is lit by ivy-covered skylights in the ceiling. The clinic is outfitted with easy-to-wash linoleum floors, sturdy wooden furniture with beige cushions, and that pungent, astringent smell of healthcare facilities everywhere.

Like a ghost, I trail behind the medical team, two doctors and two nurses, as they push Finn’s stretcher toward an operating room. Because this isn’t a real hospital, they don’t force me to wait outside. They draw a curtain around the left side of the operating table and have me sit beyond it.

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