Page 5 of Stolen Rival
My heart stutters, my blood running cold. “No one?”
She wordlessly shakes her head again.
Where the fuck is my family?
Da’s not answering, and when I try Tiernan and the others, it’s the same. I can’t reach anyone.
I’m all alone.
Chapter 3
SORCHA
“I needto get out of here.” I don’t mean to speak out loud, but when Bridie looks at me like I’m a few sandwiches short of a picnic, it’s clear I did.
“Sorcha, love. You need to recover. You just got shot.”
Shaking my head, I force myself to swallow past the lump lodged in the back of my throat. “Sure, didn’t you say it was just a flesh wound? Be grand. I need to find my family. I need to go home.” My voice cracks as another volley of gunfire echoes in my ears. I need to know for sure that they’re all dead and I’m not overreacting.
I don’t tell Bridie, but it’s time to regroup and figure out what the hell I’m going to do next. Da has three brothers, two of whom are married with their own kids. We have a fairly small family by Irish standards, but if push comes to shove, I’ll go visit my Uncle Barry for a while until I’m well enough to think straight.
“Just give me some pain meds and send me on my way. Please?” I implore the woman, giving her my best puppy-dog eyes. Truth is, I’m not sure I want to leave. At least here, I’msafe and can stay in denial for a while longer before figuring out what to do.
But I can’t hide in the hospital forever. If something’s happened to the rest of my family, I need to check on Cathal. My baby brother has been in a care home since he was two days old, and at least one of us visits him every single day without fail. Except Da. He hates Cathal, sees him as the reason Mammy isn’t here. To Da, Cathal’s not a person, nor a child. In his eyes, he’s Mammy’s executioner, and Da’s never been able to forgive my brother for it.
The bitter taste in my mouth makes me clench my teeth together. Whoever shot up our house last night better not have gone anywhere near Cathal or, so help me God, they’ll not live to see another day.
Bridie holds my stare for a long moment, her eyes swimming with sadness, sympathy, and a hint of something I can’t place. When she bites her lip, I know I’ve got her on the ropes.Come on, Bridie, just say yes.
I’m already pulling myself upright with a low grunt. I might have oversold the whole “I’ll be fine” thing. It feels like someone’s stuck a hot poker in my gut, and the edges of my vision start to blur with the pain.
“Hit the button, love.”
She gestures to the control in my hand, and I thrash my thumb at it a couple of times, waiting for the blissful warmth of morphine to seep into my body.
“Sure,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’ll be fine.” Another eye roll. “You’re right as rain.”
She must see something on my face that suggests it’s not worth the fight because she’s already pulling the drip out of my arm. “If I didn’t help you with this, you’d rip it out yourselfand get blood all over my nice clean floor. I know your sort.” She’s muttering half to herself, half to me.
“I’ll order an Uber.” I open the app on my phone but don’t get very far. Payment method declined. I try another card, and another, but the same error message comes up on the screen every time.
What in the name of all that’s holy? Why don’t my cards work? Even if my family are all dead, how the fuck would the bank know before me?
My stomach dips. This feels calculated.
“What’s the matter?” She jerks her head at my phone.
“None of my bank cards work. And I don’t see my bag.” I give another cursory glance around the room in case I missed it.
“You weren’t brought in with one. The phone was in your pocket.”
“Shit.”
At Bridie’s disapproving eyebrow raise, I wave a hand. “Sorry.”
“I’ll loan you a tenner to get you home, but I want it back. You hear me?”
I can’t help the smile from spreading across my face. I could kiss her. “Bridie, you’re an angel. Has anyone ever told you that?”
