Page 66 of The Chief
Reaching down, I pulled my secondary Glock from my ankle holster and handed it to Mila. “You know how to use one of these?”
She took the weapon, checking it over quickly. “Please. I’ve been going to the range since I was seven.”
I arched a brow. “Isn’t that a little early to put a gun in the hands of a child?”
“Not in my family, it’s not,” she replied, holding the weapon by her side.
Confident she wouldn’t shoot herself accidentally, I pulled my primary gun from the small of my back. Farther up the hall, the sound of low voices filtered from behind one particular door. I looked left and right, counting. This was Seamus’s fucking room. Shit. I reached for the handle and shoved my way inside.
For a minute, my world tipped on its axis.
Seamus had Molly pinned to the bed, her wrists manacled by his hands, and pulled over her head. His mouth was on hers, and all I could see was fucking red. The monster wanted his pound of flesh. Molly was trying to push him off her, but Seamus was built like a fucking tank and wasn’t budging.
Bringing up my gun, I took aim at his head and said, “I don’t appreciate when people touch my things.”
Seamus turned his head slowly, peering at me from under his long brown hair. “How the fuck are you here right now?”
“Stopping by to collect something you stole.”
His gaze flickered to Mila behind me. Sitting up—still straddlingmywoman—he shoved the hair from his face and sneered, “That one belongs to my da. Another cunt to pump full of his cum. An attempt at another son.”
“I’m not talking about her.”
Seamus’s attention went to Molly. Her eyes were panicked, her chest rising and falling too quickly. “This bitch is only the cleaner.”
“She’smine,” I said.
Seamus looked smug. “Got yourself a weakness, Keir. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Where’s my sister?” Molly asked, voice strong despite her precarious position.
“How the fuck should I know?”
“You stole her. Brought her here,” Molly added. “Where is she? Where’s Orla?”
Seamus’s brows drew down. “I don’t know anything about a woman named Orla.” He turned to me. “Is that why you’re here? To rescue a woman we don’t even have?”
“Fuck this shit,” Mila muttered.
The sound of her weapon discharging in such a small room was deafening. The bullet hit Seamus in the thigh, giving Molly the opportunity to wriggle out from under him. She stumbled as she got off the bed, falling to the floor as Seamus grit his teeth against the pain, clutching at his leg. Molly tried to crawl away from the bed, but Seamus snatched at her hair, dragging her backward.
With spittle flying from his mouth, he shouted, “I think I’ll just keep this one, Flanagan!”
I brought my gun up, aiming at his head. Not giving a fuck that this—right here—would be the start of a war. “Let her go, Seamus, and our war can start like it should. Between men. With honor.”
“What war?” he asked with a scoff, wrapping Molly’s hair around his fist.
“We got the bullet from one of your Sentinels.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Flanagan?” he bellowed, clutching his wounded leg with his other hand. Blood flowed freely, soaking his pants and the bed beneath him. “There’s been no declaration, but after this little stunt, there might be one.”
“Keir, we have to go,” Mila said. “We’ve been here too long.”
Fuck, I knew she was right. To Seamus, I said, “Last warning. Let. Her. Go.”
This was my Hail Mary. He knew Molly was my only weakness; he could end me right now. Seamus stared me down for a long minute, and the sound of my heart throbbing in my head was all I could hear. Time slowed as I waited, then everything rushed forward when Seamus unwrapped his hand from her hair and shoved her toward me.
“You owe me, Flanagan,” Seamus vowed. “You fucking owe me big.”
