We rehearsed this countless times over the past few days, but as I walk toward the alley where I’m supposed to meet Harry with a duffel full of money over one shoulder, I forget everything.
Once again, I’m doing something that terrifies me while Cormac waits out of sight. Strange how familiar this is starting to feel. The only difference is that this time, this really will benefit me. Harry will get his money, and I will be debt-free, and maybe Cormac will finally get some answers as to whether the Russians really were involved in his father’s death. I hope he does so that he can move on, and yet a tiny part of me hopes he doesn’t so that somehow, we can run into one another again.
And again.
Is that selfish? Probably.
After our explosive argument in my apartment, things settled down and I slept for twelve hours straight, then awoke to Cormac cooking me breakfast while his men fixed all the damage in my apartment—including a cracked pipe Dale discovered under the sink. That was a nice surprise. Having Cormac look after me was also a nice, surreal surprise, although I’m not foolish enough to believe that there’s something real between us. It’s all circumstance. Cormac wouldn’t look twice at someone like me in his regular life.
As I walk, I can feel his eyes burning against my skin as I cross the street and step into a puddle on the sidewalk. Another block and I’ll be at my destination. Huddling into my coat, I tighten my grip on the bag and pick up the pace as a cold wind drags its long fingers through my hair. Cormac had listed off multiple scenarios I’m to look out for—Harry running and snatching the bag, bringing friends, refusing the money or adding more on top. All I have to do is keep him talking long enough for Cormac to get his hands on him.
Then all of this will be over for me.
I’ll have a clean slate.
I close my eyes as the next gust of wind picks up dust and dirt from the street and a dark rumble thunders overhead. As long as the money doesn’t get wet, I don’t care how stormy it’s going to be. As a child, I had always loved storms, and right now, the scent of rain on the warm ground and lightning in the air are the only things keeping me calm.
Then I’m at the mouth of the alley, staring down into a darkness where shadows melt together just beyond a cluster of dumpsters. Cormac told me it was important to make sure Harry doesn’t block my exit so as I slowly walk down the alley, I keep a conscious thought on making sure Harry stays in front of me whenever he appears. I halt just before the dumpsters, eyeing them suspiciously as my heart begins to race. Walking here, I could pretend to be confident, but I no longer feel Cormac’s eyes on me.
I’m alone.
“Harry?”
He appears suddenly from behind one of the dumpsters and his abrupt appearance makes me jump and step back.
“Evelyn.”
“You scared me,” I say, further tightening my grip on the rough straps.
Harry snorts. “Your face looks good. How’d you even afford a trip to the hospital?”
The gentle phantom touch of Cormac’s fingers flares across my forehead and I lift my chin slightly. “I did it myself.”
“Sure.” Harry snorts. He shoves one hand into the pocket of his jeans. The other holds a lit cigarette, and he flicks some of the ash toward me with a slimy smirk. “You weren’t kidding, huh?” His beady eyes lock onto the bag. “That my money?”
“Yup.”
“All of it?”
“Of course.” My racing heart becomes a blur, and I tense my thighs to stop my knees from knocking together.
“What did you do, huh?”
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“Where did you get that kind of money in two days?”
“I have my ways.”
“Really?” Harry snorts. “You got some golden cunt between your legs?”
My stomach rolls in disgust. “What is it with men and thinking the only thing a woman has of value is what’s between her legs? You, my boss… fucking hell. There are other ways to make money!”
Harry snorts. “Sell a kidney?”
“So what if I did? It’s my kidney.” I keep my face as impassive as I can so Harry can’t work out the truth, and it seems to work as he tosses his cigarette down onto the damp ground and waves his hand at me.
“Drop the bag.”
The straps have embedded into my shoulder from the weight of the money, so I wince as pain flares upon removal. I drop the bag as close to Harry as I dare, then step back. “It’s all there.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Harry remarks. He drops down to his haunches and unzips the bag, then he pauses when the money comes into view. Releasing a low whistle, he picks up a wad of stacked bills and thumbs through them. “Holy shit. Golden cunt or not, whatever you did, maybe we should work together if it can get money like this so fucking fast.”
“No thanks,” I reply tightly. “So, are we good? You have your money and my debt is paid?”
“Hold on,” Harry says, not looking up. “I gotta count it all and make sure you’re not trying to pull one over on me. You wouldn’t do that, though, would you?”
He glances up at me, but before I can reply, blood drains from Harry’s face and his mouth falls open in shock.
“She wouldn’t,” comes Cormac’s voice from directly behind me, and warm shivers dart down my back. “But I would.”
I hadn’t even heard Cormac walking up, but somehow, he’s right here. He places a gentle hand on my lower back and guides me to the side as Harry stumbles upright and tries to flee.
He makes it two steps before Cormac is on him, lifting him by the collar of his jacket and slamming him down onto the top of the dumpster. Harry struggles and fights back, but Cormac subdues him with a couple of punches. By the time Harry’s face is a bloody mess and he’s panting, Cian has joined us.
My stomach flips and I take a step back to meet Hank.
He takes me by the arm and leads me toward the mouth of the alley. “You don’t need to see this part,” he says gently, and the kindness is unexpected. I don’t know Hank at all, but at a glance, he seems hardened and mean. Given that he’s clearly Cormac’s bodyguard, it makes sense, but I got the impression he didn’t think much of me so his kindness is nice. We stop near the mouth of the alley just as the skies split open and rain pours.
As Cormac and Cian beat sense into Harry, Hank shrugs off his coat and offers it to me to protect me from the rain. I accept it and hold it up over my head. Thunder rumbles overhead, and each flash of lightning gives me a sudden flash of the fight happening in the alley. Harry gives up quickly and ends up shoved against the wall by Cormac, who is panting heavily.
The rain soaks his shirt in seconds, and despite the danger in the situation, my eyes wander. His shirt becomes a second skin, so all I see are the long curves of his thick muscles and the way his hair turns blood-red when wet. Fear melts away just like it did when Cormac tackled Dillon. This man doesn’t even know me, even suspected me for a time, and yet he’s still doing what he can to keep me safe.
And it’s so fucking attractive. My mouth runs dry and I can’t take my eyes off him. Cian crouches down and quickly zips up the duffel bag to protect the money from the rain.
“The fuck?” Harry gasps through a bloodied smile. “The fuck are you guys?”
“I want to have a little chat,” Cormac growls low, anger lacing his words. “About you and who the fuck you work for.”
“What—” Harry’s next response is snatched away by a roll of thunder. I watch lips move, but I can’t hear them over the storm so I hope that Cormac is getting the answers he needs.
“You’d better have a better fucking answer than that!” Cormac suddenly yells during a lull of thunder. In a long flash of lightning, Harry drives his knee up into Cormac’s crotch. He doubles over with a grunt and fails to avoid Harry’s elbow crashing into the side of his face. As Cormac stumbles back, Harry starts sprinting toward me with Cian hot on his tail. Hank steps forward, pushing me back a few feet to maintain distance between angry Harry and me.
“You fucker!” Cormac yells, bolting after Harry like some kind of human bullet. I huddle into Hank’s jacket, eyes wide, and step back a few more feet as Hank sprints forward. Harry is caught in a clash between Mob Boss and bodyguard and he hits the ground like a sack of bricks.
“Excuse me,” mumbles a gentle voice to my left, making me jump in surprise.
I turn, alarmed to see that I’ve stepped out of the alley and am blocking the path of someone trying to hurry home in the storm. My lips part to apologize, but the hooded stranger shoves hard into me on the way past and their elbow catches me just beneath my ribs.
“Hey!” I snap with a gasp, stumbling back as they continue on their way down the street. “Rude,” I mutter, glaring after them, then I turn back to the fight, only something is… different.
Where the stranger’s elbow impacted me, a strange hot pressure begins to spread through my chest and down through my abdomen. My next breath in is tight, and the world sways when the alley lights up with another flash of lightning.
How hard did they hit me?
A wave of dizziness sweeps through me like a shiver, and Hank’s jacket slips from my grasp. I don’t hear it hit the ground. My focus is on the gradual pain growing through my body.
I open my mouth to say Cormac’s name—or maybe Hank’s—but nothing comes out. Instead, a hot spray of blood darts across the back of my tongue and the tang of copper is sickening. I step forward. Hank turns toward me. I watch his eyes widen and his mouth twists.
“Cormac!”
Cormac seems so far away, but I see him lift his head at the yell of his name. He looks at me and his brows shoot up to his hairline, then he abandons Harry to Cian and starts sprinting toward me. Despite how fast I can see his legs moving, he doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. The next flash of lightning is dull as darkness spreads across my vision. I touch my abdomen, trying to understand why an elbow to the ribs hurts so damn much.
My legs weaken and I trip over myself, then look down.
In a flash of light, my hand illuminates red.
It’s covered in blood.
What the hell?
“Evie!” Cormac yells at the top of his lungs, and yet he sounds so far away. I try to lift my head again but suddenly, every part of me is incredibly heavy.
I close my eyes and darkness takes me.
