Page 3 of Irish Throne

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“Connor—”

“GO!” The word tears out of me as I shove Liam towards the window, the ceiling above us and the floor behind us starting to cave in, the fire tearing through the building. I have a brief moment to think about the paperwork and merchandise downstairs that will be lost—crates of guns, shipping manifests, ledgers of records and documents from London—but all of that can be replaced. I can pay back the lost guns out of my own pocket if necessary. The records are backed up on a laptop locked in a safe in my apartment. It can all be fixed—as long as we live.

Liam is climbing out of the window, and as his foot hits the top step, the ceiling behind me caves in further, crashing and sending smoke billowing out of the window, flames and sparks everywhere, catching my clothing as I slap them out, half-hanging out of the window as I wait for Liam to hurry down.

“Come on!” Liam shouts, and I shake my head.

“It can’t hold both of us!”

“Connor, now! Before you fucking die! If we fall, at least we’ll fall together!”

Something about those last words slices through me.If we fall, at least we’ll fall together.

Together.

Another crash behind me, more smoke filling my lungs, tells me I don’t have a choice. It’s a risk of the fire escape holding both of us and maybe falling and being injured, or almost certainly dying here.

I’ll take my chances on the fire escape.

I wait for Liam to give me just enough room to get onto it, and then I shimmy out of the window, wincing at the heat of the metal as I crawl out, feeling my clothing tear. It doesn’t matter, we’re all covered in smoke and grime anyway, and it’s the last fucking thing on my mind as I grab the fire escape, hauling myself onto it as I feel it creak and sway, the combined weight of Liam and me on it almost too much to bear.

“Go! Go!” I yell down to Liam as he climbs, following him down, feeling the intense heat from the first floor as we go. I hear one of the first-floor windows pop from the heat, glass showering, and wince. If that happens while we’re near them—

Don’t think about it.We’re so close. Everyone else is out, moving in a crowd away from the building as sirens start to sound in the distance, still miles away. It’s in everyone’s best interest to get out of here before they arrive, and I feel the fire escape shake as Liam moves faster.

We’re down to the first floor when it starts to tear away. I hear the creaking, feel the pop of the screws, and then it’s swinging away from the brick wall, Liam and I clinging to it as more of the windows start to shatter.

“Jump!” Liam screams, and I see him let go.

I know how to fall. Anyone who’s trained in the boxing ring, or ridden a motorcycle, has learned how to take an impact, and I’ve done both. It’s still not something that feels good, but this is better than the second floor or higher. I push myself away from the swinging metal and shattering windows, bracing to take the impact on the balls of my feet and roll to the side as I hit the concrete.

The fall takes the wind out of me. I manage to cushion my head, feeling the breath rush out of me in a gasp as I hit, the reverberation letting me know I’ll be bruised and sore tomorrow. I land on my side, and when I look up dizzily, I see Liam across from me on the sidewalk, picking himself up from his own fall. We look at each other, our gazes meeting, and I see the tiniest bit of hope in his gaze.

I know what he’s thinking. That we just escaped death together, worked together as brothers for the first time in years, that all of this should have given us a new perspective. Deep down, I think that maybe it has. But I refuse to give in to it.

I came here to save Liam—from himself as well as the Kings. He doesn’t belong at the head of the table. I do, and by taking it back, I can save him from dooming himself again with any more foolish decisions like the one he made regarding Anastasia.

“Thank you,” Liam says softly. His words go straight to the softest part of my heart, cutting into me as I see in front of me, not my wayward, stubborn brother now, but my brother from before, the boy I helped raise when our father refused to be there for him.

The brother I’ve always loved.

“You’re welcome,” I reply stiffly, forcing myself to my feet. Liam faces me, his green eyes soft with hope, but I force myself to harden my heart.It’s best for us both.“Don’t look at me like that,” I add. “This changes nothing.”

And then, before I can see the hurt in my brother’s face, I turn and stalk towards my waiting men.

2

SAOIRSE

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything like the flood of emotions that rushes through me when I read the text message that lights up my screen.

I’m in a foundation meeting with Caterina, Sofia, Maggie, and Sasha. We’re taking a break from planning the first big fundraiser gala, refilling cups of coffee, and nibbling at the artisanal donuts in the center of the table—mine is blueberry French toast—when my phone pings.

I almost don’t open it. It’s from Niall, and a text from him is always a distraction. But when he texts again, twice in quick succession, I instinctively reach for it.Something could be wrong.

And then I read it, and I know somethingis,in fact, very, very wrong,

Warehouse on fire. All of us trapped. Don’t know if we’ll get out.


Tags: M. James Thriller