“Get out of the parking lot and clear the area!”
I dropped my phone and looked around at a couple of people looking at me like I was crazy.
“Move! Get away from here!”
I pulled my gun out of my waistband and shot it up into the air. Screams followed as they ran away from me.
That’s when my eyes caught sight of someone not running, someone leaning against a brick wall off a fair way away.
Ronan fucking O’Brien.
Fury had me running after him, through the park, heading toward him. He wasn’t moving, not until I was halfway across the park when I saw him pull out a phone. He was starting to run, me hot on his heels when I heard a large bang behind me.
I slowed and turned around to see a fireball where my car once was. That fucker tried to blow me up.
Anger fueled me as I started to run after him again, through an alley which led into a building. I could see him up ahead as he ran, his laughter gone as he realised I wasn’t as injured as he had assumed I was.
He knew I was coming for blood.
Nothing was going to stop me from ripping his life from his body right fucking now. I was done with this shit.
He ran into an empty warehouse and immediately I slowed down. I knew where we were and there was nowhere for him to go. It had been boarded up a year ago, the warehouse Peter Kennedy used for his business. The same man he had killed.
His own damn father.
Realising he was stuck, Ronan pulled his gun out just as I lifted mine and shot at his hand. He screamed out in pain as his gun dropped to the ground. He scrambled backward, holding his hand to his chest.
A sick and demented laugh erupted from him as he fell on his ass before me. I came to a stop in front of him, looking down at the man who had taunted us, forced our hand for so long and he was laughing at his own demise.
“All of this…because your mama was a whore?”
His laugh stopped. I knelt down, surprised my wound didn’t hurt me as I did it.
“Does it help to know that even now the O’Farrell’s bested you yet again?” I asked him.
His laughter was coming in short bursts, the pain of his injury forcing him to try and focus as hard as he could on me.
“You could have come to us…explained. We would have welcomed you into the fold.”
“Fuck you,” he wheezed.
“Ah,” I laughed. “Could it be that you're as useless as your whore mother that no one is going to remember who you are?”
“You don’t have the balls to kill me.”
“Think again, fuck nuts,” I shot back. “But a bullet is too sudden, it’ll be over in seconds. I want this to fucking hurt. I want you to scream, scream out for mercy that’ll never be given.”
His eyes flicked around the warehouse, hoping that it was empty enough that I couldn’t do what I was about to do. What he didn’t know was I had stashed shit in empty warehouses like this over the last couple of months in case we needed them.
What beauty it was that he happened to stumble into this one. I moved over to the pile of chairs and tables and retrieved the red can of gasoline.
He was trying to crawl his way out but I kicked him back to his spot and began to pour the contents over him and around him.
“You can’t do this,” he spluttered as the fumes started to take effect.
“Yeah, buddy, I fucking can.”
I grabbed the lighter I always kept in my pocket, a gift from my father that I never had occasion to use and I tossed it onto the ground. Flames surrounded him and attached to him instantly, as I stepped back so I didn’t get caught in the crossfire. His screams echoed throughout the warehouse as he burned. He begged me to stop, he begged me to shoot him but I wouldn’t. Instead, I allowed the monster inside to watch him burn until he couldn’t scream or thrash anymore. His body slumped into the flames as they took over the warehouse.