INESSA
“Holy fuck!”
Eoghan’s statement had me tensing and looking up from my text convo with Lisandra.
She’d been asking about how the family meal went, and I’d been telling her how everything had gone really well. Eoghan had been right—I loved Aoife.
She was awesome. Kind, friendly, but with a bit of snap that kept Finn in line, so I knew she had more bark to her than she let on, and we had the same love of books. She’d sent me a couple of recommendations via text when we’d exchanged numbers, and I was looking forward to delving in.
But Eoghan’s comment had me breaking off from my conversation and peering ahead.
We were heading back to Hell’s Kitchen, but for some reason, Eoghan had brought us back through the Bronx.
Something he was evidently regretting as he revved the engine and pulled someFast and Furiousmoves to get us the hell out of the area.
Not easy when the other drivers were just as freaked.
Because there, in plain sight, a gunfight was going down right on the border between Little Yemen and the Bronx.
Pedestrians were screaming as they took shelter, ducking behind cars, and using their hands to cover their faces and heads like that would save them as they screwed themselves up into tiny balls.
But nothing could save you from the spray of an AK-47.
“Sweet fuck, your father’s a madman,” Eoghan growled, even as he managed to turn us away from the battle royale in the center of a busy street.
I couldn’t argue with him, not when I’d seen faces and tattoos I recognized—Bratva.
“The Italians?” I whispered, twisting around to watch as much as I could before Eoghan managed to get us the hell out of there.
Sirens came next, lots of them. A shit ton of them.
Cop cars raced out of nowhere like they were on tracks, sliding toward the fray.
A lot of lives were going to be lost today, and not all of them deserving.
My brow puckered as I stared at him. “He’s going ahead with the war against theFamiglia.”
Didn’t take a genius to figure it out. “Yeah,” he grunted. “He is. But the fuckwit… What was he thinking?”
“I guess he was thinking of war,” I whispered softly.
A war we’d started.
Because Eoghan and I were in this together.
I hadn’t hidden my bruises, and while Eoghan hadn’t been expected back so early from his trip, and it could be said that—
No.
I hadn’t hidden them.
And if I’d wanted to, I wouldn’t have. I’d wanted him to see the marks, and I’d wanted him to act. I’d wanted him to avenge me, to live out the promises he’d made me.
And he hadn’t let me down.
While he’d backed me to the hilt, and I was so beyond grateful for that, I had to blow out a shaky breath, my entire being starting to tremble with the repercussions of what I’d just seen.
Of what we’d caused together.