About forty strong.
Cian materializes to my left. “Who called for backup?”
“No idea—” I’m in the middle of responding when the influx of soldiers parts, and Shane Gallagher himself strides into the room.
“Da?” Finn’s just as confused as the rest of us.
“I brought reinforcements, but I can see you don’t need them.” Shane stands tall in the center of the fray, surveying the damage. “Thought the Russians might have put up more of a fight.”
“They did at first.” Darren nods toward the bloody, brainy altar, which resembles a set from a horror movie. “In the end, they grabbed their fallen and removed themselves.”
“Made our job easier.” Finn sounds half relieved, half concerned. “We don’t want war with them anyway.”
Cian steps over a few bodies to join Finn. “May be unavoidable now…since Rory shot their prince in the face.”
Kiara touches my chest. “Youtook that shot?”
“He was standing beside my girl.” I tighten my arm around her waist.
“Good job, all of you.” Though Shane’s gruff praise is nothing to Kiara’s smile, it’s still nice to hear after this fucking mess. “It would’ve been a nightmare if this marriage was successful.”
“Get this all cleaned up,” Finn barks at the newest arrivals. “Rory, you should get back to the hospital. Looks like you pulled your stitches.”
Kiara gasps from my side, her wide eyes gawking at my chest. “You’re bleeding!”
That’s really the least of my worries. “It’s fine, I’m just?—”
“Rory.” Shane frowns at me. “You and Kiara don’t need to stay here for the cleanup. Come, I’ll take you back to the estate myself.”
Kiara and I exchange a glance, and I give her a smile. “Come home with me?”
I phrase it as a question, but if she says no, I plan to keep persuading her until she changes her mind.
“Okay,” she breathes.
I pull her closer as we follow Shane out of the sanctuary, with Finn, Cian, and Darren trailing behind.
When we reach the sidewalk near Shane’s car, a familiar voice stops me.
I turn to find Thomas Brennan hurrying toward us from the direction of the church. “Man, that shit was wild. Guess we won’t need to worry about De Luca anymore.”
Unlike the rest of us, he appears unrumpled and miraculously blood-free.
A few strides away, he pulls up short. “What do you think you’re doing? Point that somewhere else.”
Cian keeps his gun trained on Thomas’s forehead. “No, I don’t think I will. Funny thing. When I showed up early to case the place, I saw you in the parking lot headed for the church.”
Thomas blanches before forcing out a fake chuckle. “Look, I don’t know what you thought you heard, but I’m sure there’s been some kind of mistake?—–”
Cian tilts his head to the side. “Maybe you can explain then. What kind of mistake would involve you talking on the phone, saying ‘if you screw this up for me, De Luca, I swear I’ll destroy you and that piece of shit Russian.’”
My jaw falls open, Kiara gasps, and Darren mutters, “what the fuck?” which pretty much sums up my feelings too.
Thomas Brennan, who wasn’t in the loop about this offensive, who wasn’t with Shane when he and the reinforcements arrived. Thomas Brennan, an Irish Kings general. Father to the twins, and the man we’ve been reporting to since we were teenaged fledgling foot soldiers.
Thomas Brennan, Shane’s right hand.
Thomas Brennan, who was apparently approaching the De Luca-Petrov wedding venue while talking on the phone to the now-dead man running that shit show.
