Page 4 of The Queen
Oliver nods. His efficiency is just one reason why he’s indispensable in my life.
“Eliza,” Tarquin says, his voice gruff from pain and emotion as he sidles up beside me, our arms brushing. “You good?”
I look at him, really look at him; his face is smeared with blood, his brow knitted with pain, but those eyes are clear with purpose. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”
His hand finds mine and squeezes tightly for just a moment before I’m pulled away by an approaching figure – it’s one of our own men. He’s young, a first-year, maybe second with a push. A group of bedraggled students follow him, making up about a hundred in numbers.
He stops in front of me. “Eliza. I’m Robert Gannon, a first year, and these are some of my classmates.”
“How are you doing, Robert?” I ask, checking out his pale face. His grit is striking, bordering on impressive for a nineteen-year-old who has just been under siege.
“Good, thanks,” he says with a smile. “You?”
“Been better,” I say, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of these pleasantries.
“No shit,” he agrees. “Anyway, we are all here to pledge our loyalty to you as Queen of Castle. Whatever you need, let me know. You can count on us.”
The emotional floodgates have been severely tampered with today, and I feel myself welling up again with the sincerity of thiskid. “Thanks, man,” I say, giving him a punch on the shoulder so he doesn’t see my weakness. “I appreciate that.”
He nods. “Where do you want us?”
“Some can help clean up and help with the head count. We need to know who is still with us.”
We exchange a sorrowful stare, but it lasts a second before he nods. “On it. Jess works in the attendance office. She can help with names.”
“Awesome,” I say, giving Jess a smile as she raises her hand at my questioning stare over the crowd. “Let’s get to work.”
Robert organises his troops with the efficiency of a General, and I take in a deep breath.
“Wow,” Tarquin mutters, leaning heavily on a tree trunk that got blasted apart from a contained ground explosion. “That’s big.”
“How so?” I ask, turning back to him.
“Gannon is only one of the biggest crime families in Ireland and up North. You just got yourself a powerful ally, there, little dove.”
“Good to know,” I murmur, glancing back at Robert, who gives me a thumbs up.
Power has a way of pooling in unexpected puddles, and in this moment, I’m standing knee-deep in it.
“Right, let’s get this shitshow on the road,” I say, gesturing for Tarquin to sit his ass down before he falls over. “You are no good to me bleeding out.”
He scowls but complies, sinking against the splintered bark with a suppressed groan.
Just then, James returns, Raphael trailing behind with Jess and a list in her hand.
“Everyone accounted for?” I ask.
“Getting there,” Raph clips out and saunters past us with Jess staring up at him with goo-goo eyes.
Pressing my lips together so I don’t let out an inappropriate laugh at Raph’s complete obliviousness to this, I feel a warm hand finding the small of my back; it’s Oliver, somehow always sensing when I need him most. “Perimeter’s secure, for now,” he says. “CCTVs are down, but we’ve got eyes on every entrance. Nobody’s getting in unnoticed.”
“Good work,” I acknowledge, my voice steady even though the ground beneath us feels anything but. “We’ve got to move fast. We don’t know what her next move will be.”
I feel Oliver’s tension as he clenches his hand into a fist at my back. “She’s not going to stop until she has what she wants—or she’s six feet under.”
“And we can’t let our guard down until it’s the latter,” I add quietly.
4
