Page 108 of Dublin Charmer
I duck behind an old forklift and turn back to aim.
Another shot grazes my thigh, tearing through denim and skin. I bite back a scream, tasting blood where I've bitten my cheek.
This really fucking hurts.
I squeeze off another few rounds and drop one of them before making it outside.
“There’s nowhere to go, Quinn,” one of them taunts from the shadows behind me. “My associates already slit your tires.”
Fucking hell.Blood soaks through my shirt, hot and sticky. I press my hand against the wound, trying to stem the flow.
I get back to my car, and the door unlocks when I reach for the handle. After sliding into my seat, I hit the locks and close my eyes. Fuck.FUCK!
My attackers are closing in, but it doesn’t matter.
I open my eyes and give them the finger as they try to open the doors. Locked. Then they start shooting at my windows. “It’s bulletproof, motherfuckers.”
My vision blurs.
Fucking hell. Before I pass out, I press the ignition. With the engine running, my phone connects. “Call Tag.”
The pain is intense, radiating through my entire body. I’m getting cold, which I know is a bad sign. It’s either blood loss or shock setting in or both.
“Hey, Finny. What’s the craic?” Tag says.
“Not much craic at the moment, I’m afraid.”
I tell Tag what happened, but I’m losing focus. I think of Nyx. Of her blue hair spread across my pillow. The way she’d bite her lip when concentrating on code. How she fit perfectly against me when we slept.
“I should’ve gone after her,” I whisper. “I should’ve followed her to Spain or wherever the fuck she is.”
My eyes grow heavy. It’s getting harder to stay awake. I wonder if my brothers will get here in time. I wonder if someone will tell Nyx I died thinking of her.
“I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve stayed behind my keyboard until I won you back,” I slur, as darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision. “Should’ve told you I’d wait forever.”
My last thought before consciousness slips away is of Nyx’s smile, bright and rare.
And now I’ll never see it again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Finn
Consciousness claims me in ebbing waves, pulling me from the depths of nothing, only to surface and be pulled back down. Voices fade in and out. Some I recognize. Most I don’t. Machines beep. Fingers prod. But the pain is gone, no, not gone… dulled by whatever they’re pumping into my veins.
Someone’s crying.
“...lucky to be alive...”
“...lost a lot of blood...”
“...reckless eejit...”
I’m dragged down again, sinking into darkness.
Sound echoes in my mind, muffled by the filter of drugs. Everything hurts, but in a distant way, like the pain belongs to someone else. I force my eyes open, blinking against the brightness.
I’m in a hospital room. And a flower store exploded. And someone is holding my hand.
