Page 10 of Cruel King

“I’ll go talk to her. Make sure she understands the situation.”

“Good,” I mutter, trying to ignore the pounding in my head.

“Take some fucking painkillers, would you? You look like shit.”

“Would that be bird shit?” Summer’s voice is a gentle lilt next to Ciarán’s rougher tone.

“Huh?” Ciarán and I exchange confused frowns.

Summer moves closer. “Uhm, you said the other day if a bird shits on the window... I was trying to be funny.”

Ciarán snickers. “Oh, yeah. Yes, Tinks. He looks exactly like bird shit, splattered against the window.”

“Eww.” Summer scrunches up her nose, and I smile, even though it hurts my face.

“Everything okay, Summerbell?”

The question catches her off guard, but Ciarán said something was bothering her. It’s better out if we’re taking her into the field.

“Yeah, fine. What about you? You’re the one who was nearly killed.” She turns it around like a pro.

“I’m good.” The lie comes easily enough. I’ve had enough practice with it over the years.

“Summer,” Ciarán begins, his voice gentle but firm. “We need you to come with us today. It’s not safe for you to stay here alone.”

“Is that a good idea?” Her terrified eyes find mine, and I try to look reassuring. As much as I want to lock her away so she is safe. She isn’t safe anywhere. Not while this asshole is on the loose, and not while she is a sitting duck here all alone.

“It’s the only idea. We need you with us where we know you’re safe.”

Summer looks between the two of us, clearly weighing her options. Finally, she lets out a shaky breath and nods.

“Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll go with you.”

“Good,” I say, hoping this is the right move.

She nods, putting her game face on, but I can see the undercurrent of whatever is playing on her mind. I’m not forcing her to tell us. She will when she’s ready. I’m the last person in the world who would make her tell us if she didn’t want to.

As we prepare to leave, I feel a sense of foreboding settling over me. This isn’t going to be easy, and there’s no guarantee we’ll all make it out alive. But we have no choice, there’s no turning back now.

Ciarán tosses a duffel bag onto his bed, unzipping it with a sense of urgency. He carefully selects a few guns and extra ammunition, along with a couple of knives and brass knuckles. It makes me want my own shit, but I guess I’ll have to make do with borrowing.

“Here,” Ciarán says, handing Summer a small folding knife. She looks at it hesitantly, her fingers trembling as she takes it from him. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Use it only if you have to,” I add, trying to ease her nerves. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

“Okay,” she whispers, clutching it tightly between her palms. She forces a weak smile, clearly trying to reassure us, but I can see the fear in her eyes.

Once we’ve packed everything, we head out to Ciarán’s car. The sleek black vehicle gleams menacingly under the parking garage lights. Making sure that we aren’t being watched or waited for, we pile in, Ciarán behind the wheel, me in the passenger seat, and Summer in the back, I can feel the adrenaline starting to pump through my veins, with a rhythmic pounding that echoes through my head.

Dammit. I forgot to take the painkillers.

As we speed off, Ciarán watching closely for tails, I think about the obstacles we’re likely to face. Our enemies won’t hesitate to use any means necessary to stop us – car chases, shootouts, ambushes. We’ll need to stay one step ahead of them if we want to survive.

The first obstacle comes sooner than expected. As we round a corner, a black SUV appears out of nowhere, barreling towards us at full speed. Ciarán swerves just in time, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision.

“Shit!” he curses, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “They must have eyes on us.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, trying to keep calm for Summer when what I really want to do is ask Ciarán to stop the car, so I can get out and show them who they’re messing with. I’m not sure how far I’d get, but I’d die trying.

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