None of them did, but if Fionn let himself say that, the next thing he knew he’d be barking at Neighbor Boy to remove his fecking hands, so he clamped his teeth shut and ushered his mam around the opposite side of the car. They’d made it no more than two steps before gunfire blasted through the air.
Chapter Eleven
For the briefest moment it was as if time stopped. Between one step and the next, Lyse froze, a horrible, heavy thud-thud-thud sound pounding in her ears. That sound didn’t compute on a bright, chilly autumn morning, but it was there nonetheless, whether her brain chose to interpret it or not. Only when Sean grunted in pain behind her did the pieces come together.
“Get down!”
Fionn’s shout was too late; Lyse was already turning. The world spun—the car, Mack and Siobhan diving to the ground, the splash of bright red high up on Sean’s shoulder. Too near his heart. Too much blood. “Sean!”
His eyes rolled back in his head, and his knees buckled. Lyse grasped his T-shirt, though how she hoped to keep him upright, she didn’t know. It was all instinct. Keep him safe. Keep everyone safe.
That was her job.
Fionn tackled them from the side, sending all three of them to the ground behind the car. Pain shot through her body as she landed on the hard gravel, her hands still caught in Sean’s shirt. The thud-thud-thud changed to ping-ping-ping—the sound of gunshots hitting metal.
Someone was shooting at them.
The lateness of the realization struck her as funny; then the adrenaline hit, wiping out everything in its path. Like mainlining a dozen Red Bulls after a full pot of coffee—her hands shook, her head ached, and her heart threatened to explode from her chest. There was no room beneath the cage of her ribs for air, and for an awful second she thought she’d die from lack of oxygen, but then her mouth was open and she was dragging it in, gulping it, choking on the gravel dust but unwilling to stop.
Sean wasn’t gulping. The fact registered even as Fionn crawled over him, his hands untangling hers as he gripped Sean’s shirt and ripped it open.
“Fionn?”
She hated being needy; she should be the strong one, the capable one. She should be doing something, but all she could do was stare at the jagged hole above Sean’s heart, the blood pumping onto his skin, and beg for reassurance. It was Fionn who quickly tore the front from Sean’s shirt and formed a padded square, pushing it onto her friend’s chest. “Hold this,” he barked.
It was just what she needed. That sharp command broke the chains on her frozen body. Her hands came up, pressed on the fabric. “I’ve got him.”
Fionn nodded. As Lyse took over, he did a duck walk across Sean’s legs to the side of the car and peeked over. Though maybe peeked was the wrong word. More like assessed. She’d never thought she’d see him in battle—it was kind of a fantasy, right? The strong, tough, almost superhero warrior protecting her from danger. But this man wasn’t hot; he was cold. Arctic. A shiver went through her while she watched him, making her muscles flinch in pain. If Ferrina was smart, he’d do what she had done and run rather than face this man, because the warrior staring toward the enemy right now would have zero mercy. None.
In slow motion she watched his hand go to his back, his fingers driving beneath his shirt to grip black metal, sliding a gun from his waistband. She’d known it was there, had seen it on the nightstand last night, but the reality of it— She glanced back at Sean, at the blood soaking her palms even through the material, and a fierce need for a gun of her own, for their enemy in her sights, surged forward. She’d never considered herself bloodthirsty before.
She was now.
“They’re shooting over the wall,” Mack shouted from the other end of the car. Lyse still lay on her side, her body aching enough to catch her breath, but she raised her head, glancing in Mack’s direction. The garda crouched much like Fionn, a weapon a lot like Fionn’s in his hand. Most garda were unarmed, but she’d known Mack wore the gun as a senior officer. Still, seeing him with it shook her.
Siobhan knelt behind him. Her face was white with tension and, as she looked to Sean, worry. Lyse wanted to reassure her, but all she seemed capable of doing was holding Sean’s life in her hands. She didn’t feel strong enough for that. She was determined to do it anyway.
“Lyse.”
She turned her focus to Fionn. “Yeah?”
“What’s on the other side of that wall?”
The area around the apartments was walled, to keep out the noise, Harry said. Lyse thought it might be to keep the sight of all their cars from bothering the neighborhood. “A house. I can’t remember who lives there.” Thank God it was past nine and most everyone had left for work by now.
Fionn nodded. “You covering me, Mack?”
“I’ll have to,” the older man said. “Siobhan is their target. I won’t leave her.”
“You better not. I’ll go.” Fionn moved around to crouch over Lyse. His heat at her back steadied her like nothing else could have. “Let’s get a look here.” He tugged her hands away from Sean’s chest. Blood continued to ooze, but maybe more slowly than before. God, let it be more slowly than before.
The sound of Mack’s voice reached her, but not his words. Fionn heard it too. “You calling the station, Mack?” Fionn asked.
“I’m calling,” Mack growled.
“It won’t be long now,” Fionn said, his breath in her ear. “Don’t you be worryin’ now, love.”
She chuckled, the sound cutting off at the hitch in her side. “Yeah, right.”
Fionn replaced the padding on Sean’s wound, settled her hand over it, and moved his to her belly. “You always were trouble.”
It wasn’t his words that took her breath, it was his
