Page 59 of Omega in Hiding

“Patience, Patrick. He always was a mouthy one.” Da smiles, showing nicotine stained teeth. Da is a thin older alpha, with a grizzled face and shaggy silver hair. “We’ve plenty of time for revenge later. Right now, we just need to get him in the car.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Connor’s voice wobbles. “Not unless you let me call an ambulance for him.” He points toward the unconscious alpha. “If… if you’ll let me get him some help, then I’ll go with you quietly.”

“How sweet,” Da says. “You always were too soft hearted, boy. That shit will get you killed. You’re aMurphy. You should act like it. Didn’t I teach you to look out for yourself first?”

“You tried, but Mam taught me to care about others.” Connor curls his lip. “Too bad she’s the one who died.”

Patrick once more tries to lunge for Connor, but Da holds him back. “Patrick, I’m not gonna tell you again. We’ll deal with himafterwe get him in the fucking car.”

I’m in shock as I watch the scene unfold. It’s becoming horribly clear that these two Irish scumbags are Murphys and they’rerelatedto Connor. They’re not strangers to him. They’re apparently family. That means Connor is a part of the Irish Mafia? He’s the son of the notorious Seamus Murphy? What the hell? My stomach churns at that knowledge. Now that I know that truth about Connor, I should quietly extract myself from this situation. The logical thing to do is to abandon Connor to his fate. He’s a blood relation to the Irish mob, and by default that makes us enemies.

I try to move away, but my feet feel cemented to the ground. It doesn’t seem to matter what logic tells me. Instinct tells me to stay and fight for Connor. Every cell in my body vibrates with the certainty that I need to protect him. I can’t run and leave him to these thugs. I need to stand up and shield him somehow. That impulse is mystifying and foolhardy. But I can’t seem to ignore it. Even if it costs me my life, I feel compelled to rescue Connor.

Fortunately, none of them are aware of my presence yet. They’re all so focused on yelling at each other, I’m invisible. I decide to use that to my advantage and raise my weapon and focus it on Seamus. He the one in charge. My hands shake slightly as I try to work up the nerve to speak and make mypresence known. Sweat breaks out on my face and my mouth is as dry as the desert. It’s now or never. Either I step up to help Connor, or I slink off to safety. The image of them murdering Connor seeps into my confused brain, and I know I have no choice but to stay and help Connor.

Clenching my jaw, I force myself to step out from behind the protection of the cement column I’m hiding behind. Fear spirals through me as I train my Glock on the older guy and shout, “Let him go!”

All three of them turn and look at me. Connor’s eyes widen and his lips part in obvious astonishment. The other two don’t look surprised to see me, so much as they look pissed.

“Who the fuck are you?” Patrick growls.

“Don’t worry about who I am.” My voice shakes and I curse my nerves. “Let Connor go and don’t make any sudden moves.”

Seamus recovers first and a mean smile splits his weathered face. “I know you. You’re Paolo Syracuse.”

“What of it?” I rasp. I’m surprised he recognized me so quickly, but I don’t want to show that.

Seamus snorts a laugh. “Well the good lord certainly is looking down on us, Patrick. Paolo Syracuse was kind enough to deliver himself to us. Saves us the trouble of hunting him down.”

I clutch my gun. “I’m not delivering myself to you. I’m taking Connor and I’m leaving.”

Patrick narrows his eyes. “He’s scared, Da. I suspect the pampered brat’s never held a gun before in his life.”

“Bullshit,” I snarl. “Shall I put a bullet between your eyes to prove I can shoot?” I’m actually a fairly good shot. But I don’tblame them for doubting me. I’m shaking like a leaf. “Now, let Connor go.”

“His name isConrad,” Patrick grates out. “That was his God given name.”

“I’m not here to argue about his name, dumb ass. Send him to me, now.” I’m talking tough, but my hands are so fucking sweaty, I’m worried I’m going to drop the damn gun. “Connor, come here.”

What I he waiting for? Why is he just standing there?

“He’s not going anywhere,” Seamus says in a deep growl.

“You’re wrong,” I retort harshly. “He’s coming with me.”

Patrick rasps, “Over my dead body.”

I scowl at Patrick. “Works for me.”

“Paolo,” Connor says hoarsely. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to go. You need to run.” His face is flushed and it’s obvious he doesn’t think I can rescue him. He doesn’t look relieved to see me. He just looks really worried. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“No, I’m not. Get your ass over here. We’re leaving.” I hold out my hand to him, but he shakes his head.

“Go, Paolo. Go now. Don’t worry about me. I can handle these two.”

Seriously?

“I’m not leaving without you.” I grit my teeth, frustrated by how he’s behaving. The longer he stalls, the more likely we’ll both die. It’s hard enough rescuing someone, but it’s even harder when they apparently don’t want to be rescued.

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