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“Lucie didn’t demand we come back, and she didn’t stop Dec from leaving. She also didn’t send five guards after Harry.”

“We don’t have five guards sitting around.”

“You get my point. I just need you to be prepared for your little powder keg if she decides to ambush you later.”

I’ll deal with it. I always do. But I bite back some nasty words and ask, “What did Seamus say he heard at the hospital?”

“He’s stable.”

“We see him or the gunrunner?”

“Both. Anthony first, then the fucking dude who sold Dec the stolen guns. There’s an answer here.”

“We just have to find it,” I say.

“Look,” Cal adds, “It’s up to you about how you wanna handle Harry. I can order Liam to bring her back, get her under house arrest with Lucie and the animals. Mikey’s there and the guards, too.” He breaks off as I swerve around a car. “Watch where you’re driving, Jesus.”

“I am.”

He makes some calls, and soon we’re speeding through Brooklyn, into Park Slope, and we finally reach the private hospital where Anthony was taken. We pull up near our brothers and trusted crew… the loyal soldiers who do small collections, make up an army when we need them, serve as guards, and even drive.

“Everything all right? I’m sorry, Tor,” Dec says, not looking happy as we get out of the car. “I didn’t know sheheard me. But she can’t think you’d have done something to her uncle.”

Oh shit yeah, she can. I’ve threatened to take out her uncle plenty of times before.

I force myself to be calm.

“I’ll try to get her here,” I say, because she’ll be safe here at the hospital with me, “but she was upset about the letter, and if she thinks… Shit, if she thinks I killed her uncle as well as her parents?—”

“You killed her parents? What the hell is with this family?” Dec yells. I punch him in the arm.

“Christ, shut up,” I mutter. “I didn’t kill them. She just thinks that.”

“And did you try and explain it to her? Like you did to me the other night?” Cal asks tersely.

This is news? Of course I didn’t. I shake my head. “It’s my fault.”

Callahan swears, grabbing me and hauling me away from the others. “You want to carry a cross and martyr yourself all over the fucking place, be my guest, but this girl… I’ve never seen you like that. Not even about Siobhan. Don’t fuck it up, Harry’s the shit, as Dec put it.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll fix it.” I shake him off and dial Harry’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. No shock there.

I leave a message. Then I text her Cal’s number, Seamus’s number, Dec’s number, Lucie’s number, our fucking mother’s number because I made myself memorize all the family numbers since there are situations for us where we need to know a number and don’t have our phones. Modern day life and death.

And I want to be sure she can get in touch with at least one of us.

I type out mymessage as a text.

Harry, call one of us back. Your uncle’s in the hospital. Address coming. We’ll meet you there. But call first. Someone hurt him, he’s fine. Got a guard. Please get somewhere safe. HOME. Go the fuck home. We’re trying to get to the bottom of all this. I need you safe. I love y?—

I stop, stare down at the screen in horror, and delete the last bit before I press send. Then I send the hospital address to her.

What the actual fuck? I love you? I don’t do love. It isn’t even part of my vocabulary. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Harry. She’s what’s wrong.

Anger starts to beat a vicious drum inside me. She’d better be okay. Skulking and eavesdropping in corners, getting the wrong idea about our business dealings.

“What happened?” Dec asks, rushing to me. “Did you really kill her parents?”