4

Shaun

It’s almost impossible to distinguish anything through the chaos.


Gunfire cracks through the air from every direction, sharp enough to vibrate through the walls, while people scream over each other somewhere beyond the smoke and shattered glass. The scent of blood and burning metal hangs thick in the room.


“Boss!” Xavier’s voice tears through the noise in my earpiece. “You need to move. Right fucking now.”


Kate is shaking against my chest. I tighten my arm around her, dragging her closer while her terrified eyes dart wildly around the room like she’s seconds away from breaking apart completely.


Yep. Fear always changes people’s faces.


“Connor,” I say, never taking my eyes off the hallway ahead of us, “cover me.”


Connor moves instantly. Gunfire erupts beside me as he steps into position, firing toward the men advancing through the corridor.


My own weapon is already drawn. Steady. Familiar. Anyone I don’t recognize crosses my line of sight, I put a bullet in them without wasting time wondering whether they deserved it. Most people usually do.


Another shot ricochets off the wall beside us. Too many of them. And they’re here for me.


Across the chaos, my eyes land on Julian. His arm is bleeding. Badly. Still, he keeps shooting like he barely notices it, moving through the gunfire with the same irritating recklessness he’s had when he was a kid.


I stare at him for a moment. Then— “Julian.” My voice barely reaches him through the noise.


“What?” he shouts back without looking at me. “Can’t you see I’m a little fucking busy?”


“Get over here.”


He forces his way over to me through the chaos. The second he’s close enough, I shove Kate toward him. “Get her out of here.”


His gaze snaps between my eyes for half a second, sharp and unreadable.


“No.” Kate grabs fistfuls of my shirt desperately. “I’m not leaving. I’m not fucking leaving you.”


I ignore her completely. “Her car’s behind the building,” I tell Julian, my voice clipped as another shot explodes somewhere too close behind us. “I’ll make sure nobody follows.” All three of us are breathing hard now. Blood. Smoke. Sirens somewhere in the distance. “Will you protect her?”


For the first time since this started, Julian hesitates. Just slightly. Then he forcibly tears Kate away from me before she can cling tighter. “I give you my word.”


I give you my word. I give you my word. I give you my word…


—


My eyes snap open. Cold sweat coats the back of my neck and lower spine. For a moment, I stay completely still, breathing slowly while darkness presses around the room.


Chelsea sleeps peacefully beside me, oblivious. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand.

But the sounds don’t leave. Gunshots. Screaming. Metal crashing into concrete. Pain twisting through people’s voices.


They still echo inside my head so vividly it almost feels wrong to call it a dream. It feels more like I just survived those moments all over again.


Sleep doesn’t come back after that. Not even close. I take a shower mostly to wash the memory out of my skin. By the time I step out of the bathroom with a towel hanging low around my waist, the sky outside the windows is still dark.


The house is silent as I head downstairs. I grab a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, pour myself a generous amount, then take a slow swallow that burns all the way down. Better. Barely.


My phone lights up in my hand as I check the time. 5:47 a.m. I scroll through my contacts and hit call.


After several rings, he finally answers with a groan. “Do you have any idea what fucking time it is?”


“Yes,” I say, leaning back against the couch. “And I’m pretty sure you’re already late.”


“God.” More rustling on the other end. “I’m not going to the hospital today. What happened?”


“Did you find out anything?”


A long, exhausted silence. “Seriously? You couldn’t wait two more hours before calling me—”


“If you talk faster,” I interrupt, taking another sip of whiskey, “you can go back to sleep sooner.”


A long breath crackles through the phone. “Yeah,” he says finally, voice still rough with sleep. “She’s the one you’ve been looking for.”


The corner of my mouth lifts. All this time. All this fucking time, and she was sitting inside my father’s hospital the entire time without me realizing it.


“If you’re wrong,” I say mildly, swirling the whiskey in my glass, “I’m firing you.”


A tired snort comes through the line. “I’m sure.” His voice lowers into more of a whisper. “Jenny knew everything.”


Which probably means she is still lying beside him right now. Useful. Very useful.


I take another slow sip of whiskey, staring out into the darkness beyond the windows while the taste settles heavy on my tongue.


Well. This is about to become very interesting.


About two hours later, I leave the estate. Connor and Tim shadow me the entire way, silent and armed, close enough that most people instinctively move aside before we even reach them.


I’m heading toward the back entrance of my nightclub when some unfortunate fucking idiot suddenly lunges at me from the side.


Everything happens fast. Too fast. Before I can fully react, a sharp, vicious burn slices across my forearm.


Knife. My eyes drop briefly to the blood already spreading down my sleeve.


Well. That’s annoying.


The attacker swings again immediately, this time aiming straight for my chest. I catch his wrist midair before the blade reaches me and twist hard enough to force him backward against my body.
His scream tears through the alley. Still, the bastard keeps fighting, thrashing violently as he tries to break free of my hold.


Huh! Most people usually start begging by now. “Easy,” I murmur near his ear, tightening my grip until I feel something in his shoulder strain unpleasantly. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”


He curses wildly and jerks again, almost frantic now. Who the fuck is this lunatic, and why is he this determined to kill me?


“Boss!” Connor is already moving toward us at a run.


Unfortunately for everyone involved, the idiot in my grip chooses that exact moment to start struggling even harder.


I sigh quietly. Then I grab his head and twist. The sound of bone snapping echoes sharply through the alley before his body collapses instantly at my feet.


“Give me something to wrap this with,” I tell Connor. He moves.


Tim crouches beside the body, checking the dead man’s pockets. “Who the fuck was this?”


“No idea.” I flex my hand once, watching more blood slide down my wrist. “Find out.”


Tim nods once.


“And get rid of him.”


Another nod. Then he glances back up at me. “Want me to call Dr. Phillips?”


I stare at him for a few seconds. Hm. Looks like an opportunity arrived much earlier than I originally planned. “No. Give me the keys. I’ll go to the hospital myself.”


Connor hands over the bandage. I wrap the fabric tightly around my arm, watching it slowly stain red almost immediately before heading toward the car.
The engine starts with a low growl beneath me as I slide behind the wheel.


I’ll see you soon, little doctor.