Page 69 of Broken Blood Ties

The pub’s wooden doors are so close, but my attention is drawn to another man on the sidewalk past O’Brien’s. He’s bald and in a black suit, hands tucked into his pockets and standing completely still.

I jerk to a stop, squinting at the man. From this far away, he looks vaguely familiar. Holding his stare, I take two steps back only to realize he’s nodded his head at something behind me. Over my shoulder, two more men approach from behind.

What was I thinking? What was I thinking!

I throw myself into a run, sprinting for the pub. I should’ve listened to Kieran, should’ve told him. Perhaps even stick to my plan of writing the damn note because now I’m compromised.

My opened coat blows back catching on the light breeze, and I turn my head to see the two tall men in suits chasing me. But the man in front of me walks forward, like he has all the time in the world, never taking his eyes off me except to flick his gaze to the doors I’m focused on.

The dull sunlight that morphs behind the gloomy clouds plays tricks, casting shadows to emphasize the man ahead of me, and it’s like slow motion as I cringe seeing the glint peering back at me and the curve of his mouth.

Is this it? Is this the time my past ghost catches up to me?Run, run, run.I think back to that night seven years ago.Run for your freedom.

The palms of my hands connect with wooden doors, and I grapple with the handle as I struggle to keep upright on wobbly legs. For a moment, I wonder if I’m about to run up in on a bunch of people having lunch before I remember it’s too early for that. I pull at the door, and it opens as two sets of hands claw the air for me.

Bolting inside, the lights are off, but a figure jumps up from behind the bar.

“Summer?” Lizzy freezes as she grips a whiskey glass and a bar towel. The doors creak behind me, and her expression changes from surprise to panic as a palm grabs for the back of my head.

I gasp, letting out a wail full of seven years of terror. “Please!”

“Hey! Hey!” Lizzy jumps over the bar, her black bar apron catching on a barstool, and it topples to the floor with a thud.

I try to yank away, but flinch when a tense fist tightens in my hair. My legs slip, and I let out a shriek.

“What the hell! Get out of this bar. Let her go!” Lizzy yells, as one of the tall men who was chasing me keeps her from me.

The pain abates, replaced by someone yanking my arms behind my back. I struggle to see and whimper when the bald man digs his fingers against my cheeks, forcing my lips to compress and pucker. His grip on my chin jerks my face sideways as he angles my head to fully look at me.

Shaking, I meet his stare, taking in the prominent nose and dark sporadic eyebrows raised with his smirk in silent victory.

“Ahhh … we’ve finally got you.”

“Let me go, please. I-I don’t know you,” I blubber.

Running footsteps sound from the back hall, and Cormac, and another guy, come darting to the dining room, guns drawn.

It’s nothing short of confusion, as Cormac looks at me then to the guy holding me.

“Marco? What the bleeding hell is going on?” Cormac mutters, lowering his weapon.

“Please, help me. Please?—”

“Get yer bleeding hands off of her!”

My heart picks up speed and I let out a shaky sigh at Kieran’s voice as he rounds the corner. His face is red, and his nostrils flare as he approaches.

But the man holding my face, Marco, and the lackey securing my arms behind me, don’t let me go.

Marco lets out a provoking laugh while Kieran comes to stand several steps away from me. “Afraid this one is out of your jurisdiction, Kieran.”

I stiffen at the familiarity between these two, and that’s when I slowly register the guns on both men behind him. Or the way this man doesn’t seem worried about being able to yank me out of here. My stomach drops. Oh god.Ohgodohgod.

He’s … is he?

“Pretty sure this is me bar.” Kieran gestures around, a smug look of irritation pulling at his expression.

“She’s coming with us. Straight to New York.”

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