Yes and no.
My aim had been true, sure, and Aidan O'Donnelly’s boys were all naturally good shots, but to stop the driver? God was on my side. Maybe He was pissed at the bloodshed on the steps to His home, maybe justice—Old Testament style—was exactly what the Colombians deserved.
Whatever the reason—God’s hand, my skill, sheer fucking luck—it worked.
The truck jerked, and because this was a residential street, it crashed straight into the low wall separating someone’s front yard from the sidewalk.
The momentum was enough to have the gunmen, who weren’t strapped in, soaring through the air ten feet and landing face first.
They might have survived if my brothers hadn’t been there. But I was no longer interested. My focus switched to Aoife even as I heard several gunshots and more screams. Then, in the background, the wonderful wail of an ambulance.
I looked down at her. My woman. My wife. And knew she was it for me. I’d never been so fucking certain of anything in my life.
My eyes took her in. From the wine-colored hair that made her skin look so milky, to the glorious freckles I knew covered her everywhere. The white suit should have drained her, washed her out, but instead it augmented the different notes in her hair. And in the sun? It seemed to shine like burgundy.
I wanted to fuck her under the sun, I realized. Wanted to see all that hair curtain me as she rode me on a beach somewhere. Bora Bora, Rio, Barcelona… I didn’t give a fuck. Just knew it had to happen at some point in our lives together.
The stain blossoming through her wedding suit was almost as dark as her hair. The sight of it sickened me, and I wasn’t a man who was caught short by the sight of blood. But this was my woman, and before I could even feel fear at her life potentially draining from her, I couldn’t stop myself.
I dipped my chin, kissed her mouth, then bit her bottom lip.
Hard.
She moaned.
And this time, my throatdidclutch.
I found it hard to breathe for endless fucking seconds as she whimpered, “Finn?”
My eyes watered and I burrowed my face in her hair and clutched her harder to me. “You stay with me, Aoife. The ambulance is coming. Don’t you fucking leave me.”
I felt the curve of her lips against my cheek. “Won’t leave you.”
“You’d better goddamn promise me that,” I rasped, unashamed when the tears fell and dampened her skin.
She made a gurgling sound that had my heart stopping, then she breathed, “Love you, Finn,” and she fell silent.
For a second, that silence roared in my head.
It was…
Was this what insanity felt like?
I’d always ridden a thin line. My past warring with my present. What had happenedtome, battling with all the shit I’d done.
But this?
I’d never felt so lost, so on edge, so out of control.
I almost decked the guy who pulled her from me. Figuring it was another Colombian, I lifted the gun and stared down its sights before I even blinked back the tears marring my vision.
A startled yelp and a crash had me jerking back to attention. The EMT’s hands were raised, his kit plunked on the church steps, and I lowered my weapon, muttering, “Sorry.”
I received a well-deserved glower for my pains, but the man took one glance at Aoife and said, “We need to get her on the ground, sir.”
The next ten minutes were the most confusing of my life.
I crouched next to my bride, unsure if she lived or died from how hard the men worked on her. Did they think I’d shoot them if they failed? Every now and then they eyed my gun, and though I wouldn’t hurt them, I wasn’t trying to ‘encourage’ them to succeed either.