Page 31 of The Enforcer's Redemption

I duck, dodge, and the next thing I know, he’s flying backward, courtesy of my elbow to his throat. He’s choking, gasping for air, but I don’t slow down. I’m not here to play. I’m here to fucking end this.

The sound of heavy boots slamming into the floor is all I hear before another asshole comes charging at me. This one’s bigger, a mountain of a man, but that’s the mistake. He’s slow. He’s predictable.

I catch his wrist, twisting it around before driving my knee into his gut. He stumbles, and that’s when I end him—one shot to the temple. Blood splatters across the floor, his body crumpling like a rag doll.

I’m already moving before the body hits the ground, eyes scanning the chaos ahead of me. This place is full of enemies—no one’s backing down, not a fucking soul. The compound’s too big to clear quickly. We’re surrounded. I push forward, not slowing my pace. But we’re getting closer. I want to rip this place apart. I want to take it all down.

I can barely hear myself think over the blood-pumping roar in my ears. A man jumps out from behind a pillar, a knife in hand, and I’m ready. I don’t need a gun for this. I grab his wrist before he can strike, twisting it until I hear the bone snap, his scream filling my ears. I slam my palm into his face, sending him crashing into the ground, and that’s when I hear Ronan’s voice again, sharper, more frantic.

“Declan, we need to move!”

I don’t wait for him. I press forward, pushing past men, past bodies, past the fucking wreckage of whatever the hell this place used to be. There’s no mercy in me anymore. There’s no room for hesitation.

Then, as if the world decides to kick me in the teeth, more men appear. Five, no, six of them, their guns raised.

I don’t give them the chance. My gun’s already in my hand, and the first guy doesn’t even see it coming. He drops like a sack of shit. The second is quicker than him, but I’m faster. I don’t give him the pleasure of taking a shot. I’m on him before he can pull the trigger, my fist driving into his throat. He gasps, but I don’t let him breathe.

The others try to surround me, but Ronan and Lochlan are already on it. They cut through them like a fucking machine. One by one, their bodies crumple.

We round the corner, and there he is—Sebastian, standing like he’s fucking untouchable. But he’s not alone. Two of his men are flanking him, guns drawn, their eyes wild. The second they see us, they take a step forward, blocking the way.

“Move,” I snarl, my gun raised, but they don’t budge. The air thickens with the tension of what’s about to happen. There’s no doubt in my mind—this ends, one way or another.

Sebastian doesn’t even flinch. He stands there, looking down at us with that smug smile plastered on his face, like he’s got the upper hand.

“You’re not taking her, O’Rourke,” Sebastian says, his voice cold, calculated.

Ronan steps forward, eyes narrowing. “We’re not here to kill you. Give her up, and you walk away. We walk away. No more blood.”

But Sebastian’s not stupid. He’s not going down without a fight. His men shift, and the tension gets even thicker. One of them twitches, but Ro doesn’t give the signal to move. I know he wants as little bloodshed as possible. We're here to get my wife back,not slaughter the O’Reillys. They'll have enough hell to pay in this city from our allies when word gets out what they’ve done.

"Where is she, Sebastian?" I call out, and he chuckles at me. I'm seething mad and my chest is heaving from exertion, but I hold my gun steady, pointed at him. I know if I pull the trigger, there will be two shots that follow and both will be in my chest. I'm not stupid, but I'm not backing down either.

"She's not here, eejit. You think I'm stupid enough to bring that precious cargo back to my own home?" His evil laughter enrages me, and my finger twitches over the trigger. "Go home. You're only getting in the way of justice."

Justice? That bastard has the nerve to talk about justice? I'm so damn close to putting him down right there, but Ronan's hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Declan, we'll find her," he growls in my ear, his own hatred barely contained. "We'll find her, and we'll bring her home. But not like this. Not with a bullet in your back."

Damn it all to hell. He's right. I know he's right. But it doesn't stop the fury that courses through my veins, demanding retribution for every second she's been away from me.

"You think you're just going to walk away?" I spit out at him, but Sebastian only smirks.

"Today, O'Rourke. Today you do. You turn yourself around and walk right out of my home before your brother is right and I put a bullet in your back.” He’s a smug gobshite. I’ll give him that.

“Come on, Declan. Let’s go.” Ronan gives the order, and I have to follow him. I hear Lochlan and the others start to retreat, but I can’t help myself. I’m too angry. I drop to my knee as I pull thetrigger, and it misses him, but his men don’t miss. Their guns fire, and the rounds strike my shoulder and my ribcage, ripping through me with searing heat. The place erupts in gunshots again as I fall to the floor and my vision starts to blur from the pain.

I’m vaguely aware of Ronan and Lochlan dragging me back, bullets whizzing past us as we retreat. The last thing I hear is Sebastian’s laughter echoing through the halls of his compound as he escapes, and with him, any hope I have of finding my wife alive.

The car ride is a blur. My chest is on fire, lava pouring through my veins as Lochlan presses on one wound and Aiden on the other. Nicholas races me to Ronan's house as I hear my brother on the phone with someone, probably Maeve, giving instructions about my injuries and what we need when we arrive.

He spits out, "Damn thick eejit, why did you shoot?" I don't see him, but I picture his head shaking at me as he glowers at me. His tone tells me the injuries aren't life threatening, but the pain slicing through my flesh doesn't seem that way.

I fade in and out of consciousness, flashes of dreams or memories haunting me. Isla was so beautiful in that dress, so perfect. I should have told her how I really feel, that I deeply love her, but I didn't, and now I may never see her again.

Mick and Brennan—they'll hate me. The alliance will suffer because of this, and all because I let her out of my sight for a mere second. This should never have happened. We should be consummating our hours-old marriage.

When I finally come to, Maeve is standing over me with a surgical mask on, blue gloves on her hands, worry creasing herforehead. She nods at someone, and my eyes shift to see Ronan standing on my other side. The blood on her gloves and his shirt is mine. I know that, and shame floods me as I realize I put my whole family at risk tonight by taking that shot.

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