Page 7 of Iron Crown

Fuck.

We were outgunned.

“Put your fucking gun down, Irish.”

A thousand scenarios went through my head at once, each one calculating what move would keep my child safe. Nothing mattered but that now. Not even me. Not even Shiny.

Cillian, and the mother heneeded,were the only things I cared about.

If I fired at the one at the end of my pistol, then the second gun would take me down before I could get another round off. Even if I was lucky, there was a third man. I was certain to die. So was Shiny.

Dead men can’t fight… dead men can’t defend anyone or anything. I chose to live.

“Put the gun on the floor, and kick it here,” the Italian ordered.

Fine…

With a reluctant growl of agitation, I lifted my hand in surrender, letting the gun point to the ceiling, slowly bending my knees to lower it to the ground. Shiny did the same.Smart girl.

I had guns hidden all over this bloody household, in numerous false bottom drawers, behind paintings, and even one in a balustrade on the staircase. We could re-arm ourselves. These guns didn’t matter.

“Kick the gun over here, nice and slow,” their leader commanded.

In an exaggerated, slow motion, I kicked the gun over, the metal sliding on the hardwood. I had to buy time…

Jericho was armed. I was sure of it. So there was another line of defense between these men and what was precious to me.

Shiny nudged her gun over with her foot, knowing that every borrowed second increased our chance of survival. So she was going irritatingly slow.

I could feel her anger radiating off of her in waves. I prayed that she’d have the patience to not attack them until we had the upper hand. I hoped she knew me well enough after a lifetime of our friendship, and would trust me. That she would back my play.

“Joe, you and Mark head up,” the leader of them said with a nod.

Two of them broke off, and my heart skittered at the possibility that they were here for my wife and son. But I wasn’t going to ask. I wouldn’t bring attention to them if I didn’t have to. If they hid, I didn’t want anyone searching for them. Maybe they didn’t know that I’d regained my family… because if they knew, then they were targeting them, and that was a possibility too abhorrent to consider.

The cold sweat of fear dripped down my neck as I stared into the brown eyes of the man with a gun to my head. I tried to commit every detail to memory, in case I couldn’t kill him today. From the curl of his eyelash at the corners, to the mole on the bottom of his right eye.

“Quit staring at me, you Irish prick!”

“How can I not, when your eyes are so lovely?” I said, dryly, a sadistic sneer spread across my lips.

I was a monster. I had squashed that monster down, and chained him into the recesses of my psyche, controlling him like a hunchback in a bell tower. But I felt him stirring, howling tobe set free. Given the chance, I would make blood my medium again, and this bastard would be the first in line to color my canvas.

Chapter two

Famous Last Words

Kira

Fuck! I needed to get access to the security systems here. I needed to find out what the security plan was!

Was there a plan? There had to be, right? After all, he had a fucking army! What were they doing walking around with their guns if there was no plan? Surely, Eoghan wouldn't just use them for decoration. How could I communicate with the numerous guards that traipsed around this fucking mansion?

I paced, my son surprisingly still asleep, despite the sound of gunshots just down the stairs.

I didn’t want to be in this room, waiting to be attacked. I couldn’t just bury my head in the sand.

I stared at the now brown-colored walls, and the black board and batten. The black wasn’t a crisp, minimalist black. It was softer, like an ash black, with brushstrokes that bent and curved. It was less harsh than the Victorian Green wallpaper, and wooden stain that had been here before.

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