Page 56 of Aidan

I carefully lay my hand on top of hers. “You probably have a concussion.”

Several shots are fired outside somewhere followed by sharp commands in both English and Arabic. Sorcha jumps. As if remembering where we are, she cries out. “The kids.”

Quickly, I scan the room again and find them. Kellen and Carson—whose faces are deathly white—have their arms wrapped around each other. Within their embrace is Aisling, her face equally as pale. Caitlín and Nora guard all three of them with their bodies, both of them staring where their men disappeared.

“They’re okay. Caitlín and Nora have them.”

On the other side of the room, Nessa and Lucia are protecting her three children. Rubble outside shifts and footsteps approach. Faint sirens blare in the distance. I jump to my feet, gun arm outstretched, ready to defend my wife and our family. Da steps over the pile of rubble—his gaze searching and landing on Nora—slowly followed by Finn, then Nathan and Cian who both head straight for their families, and Roarke who crosses over to Caitlín.

Kellen, Carson, and Aisling run over to us, and I quickly shove the weapon into my waistband at the small of my back under my jacket. A sobbing Aisling throws herself against Sorcha, who hisses in pain, but cradles the little girl in her arms, rocking her with soothing words. The boys cling to me and I bend to pull them tighter against me.

A noise brings my head up. Liam enters with Imogen tucked closely against his side. Rage radiates from him and while she’s not crying, there’s an eerie stillness to her despite being upright and walking. They come to a stop in the middle of the room.

“Is everyone okay?” Da asks with Nora still in his arms.

Murmurs of assent ripple through the air. I glance down at the boys, who finally release me, but stay close enough to touch.

“Are you two okay?”

They nod their heads shakily, their ashen faces slowly gaining color. I crouch down again and stroke Aisling’s hair. “Hey little nightmare. You’re not hurt anywhere are you?”

She buries her face in Sorcha’s neck and shakes her head. I can tell my wife is in pain, but she won’t say anything. Outside, the sirens grow louder.

“Aisling,” I say softly, trying to soothe her fear. “Sorcha’s leg is hurt. There’s going to be some people arriving soon that are going to help, but they’ll need to look at her so they can make her feel better. Can I hold you while they do that? I promise it’s going to be okay.”

Slowly, she loosens her hold on her sister. Her eyes are swollen and her face is flushed as she stares up at me. I smile gently and carefully brush her curls back and tuck her hair behind her ear. The sirens blare loudly directly outside and pounding footsteps approach. Da, Roarke, and my brothers form a protective barrier in front of everyone just to be safe, but when the paramedics and Gardaí step across the rubble, they lose some of their rigidity.

“Come on, let’s give them some room to take care of Sorcha, okay?”

Aisling raises her arms and I pick her up. She wraps all her limbs around me and lays her head on my shoulder. Kellen and Carson stay glued to my side as I take a few steps back and let the men I gesture over do what they need to do. I keep close watch on her though, needing to reassure myself Sorcha’s going to be okay. It may be a while before I let her leave my sight.

Da reaches my side. He fusses over the boys, checking to make sure they’re not hurt and then glances up at me. Grief shows heavily on his face as his eyes lands on Aisling. Then they meet mine.

“How’s Sorcha?” His gaze drifts over to her.

“Her leg was grazed and it’s bleeding some, but I’m not sure if it’ll need stitches or not. Also some of the falling debris knocked her unconscious. I’m sure she has a concussion, but she’ll be okay.” I glance at his shoulder. “How bad is it?”

He waves me off. “I’ll live. Finn and Cian are unscathed, but Liam took a bullet to the arm.”

“And Imogen?”

Da’s gaze lands on his daughter whose eyes are no longer dull. She doesn’t appear to be in shock anymore. Instead she’s fussing over Liam while the paramedics treat him. He may need to go to the hospital, unless he has a private physician that does home visits.

“She’s a Donnelly,” he says as if that explains everything. And it does. We’re all stronger than anyone thinks. Stubborn too.

“What about the Moroccans?”

He darts a glance between the boys and Aisling’s back before he turns back to me. “Several of them got away.”

I nod. Even if they hadn’t, Da wouldn’t let this attack on his family go unpunished. If the Moroccans want a war, then they’ve got one. I glance at Liam again. After this, where does he stand?

The paramedics have bandaged the flesh wound on Sorcha’s thigh and after a brief discussion that I can’t make out, she waves them off. Da claps me on the shoulder.

“Go take care of your wife.”

He walks toward Nora, but is waylaid by the Gardaí. I take Aisling over to Sorcha. The boys are right on my heels. We reach her and she gingerly stands, wincing slightly. She fusses over them, cradling their faces and running her hands over their bodies like they were injured instead of her. They let her, probably knowing she needs it. The three of them probably do, too. Just as much as she does.

“What did they say?” Whatever their instructions, I’ll make sure she follows them.

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