“That’s your pride talking,” I say. “Your leg is basically mush right now, and in case you forgot, you just crashed your car into a bridge yesterday.”
I can see it in his eyes: he knows I’m making sense. He knows that he can’t fight at one hundred percent capacity like he’s used to.
But he doesn’t want to leave me out there alone.
“Cillian, you’ve got like fifteen men,” he points out. “The Kinahans are gonna come in fucking droves. We’re not going to be able to hold them all off.”
“Luckily, we’ve got high walls.”
Kian grimaces. “This isn’t the Middle Ages. They know about this castle and they’re going to come prepared. One well-thrown explosive is all it’ll take to bring that gate smashing—”
His words are swallowed whole by a massive explosion just outside the portcullis.
Immediately after, two of my men coming running towards us.
“Two vehicles!” one screams. “They’re using explosives to break down the entrance.”
Kian whirls around to me. “Did I call it or what?”
“Jesus,” I say, grabbing Saoirse and forcing her behind me, even though the gate is still holding for now.
Another explosion goes off. Saoirse cringes against the noise.
I grab one of the handguns and offer it to her. “This is the safety,” I tell her, speaking fast. “There—now it’s off. Meaning when you pull the trigger –”
“A bullet comes out the other end,” Saoirse interrupts. “I got that part.”
I nod. “You wanted a lesson, so here it is. Keep both your eyes open. Aim. Then pull the trigger. Got it?”
“Got it,” she says with a determined nod.
I want to kiss her hard. To imprint the feel of my lips against hers.
But there’s no time.
Another explosion goes off and the portcullis starts to shiver slowly. “It’s gonna come down with the next one,” one of the guards warns.
I look around at the scant number of fighters that I’ve managed to gather. I know we’ve got back-up on the way, but I have no idea when they’ll get here or if they’ll be enough when they do.
“How many men did you see out there?” I ask the guard who spoke first.
“Two vehicles. No more than twelve men in total.”
I frown. “The early birds clearly want the victory,” I say. “Maybe that will work in our advantage. If we finish these guys off before the rest show up, we might have a shot.”
I look around at the men.
“We still have the advantage of stone walls. No fight is a lost cause. And in any case, we’ve got to remember the most important thing: every O’Sullivan man is worth twenty Kinahan bastards.”
The man raise their fists in the air and bellow in agreement.
I notice Kian smiling in the corner next to Saoirse, who’s still clutching the gun I just handed her.
The gate starts to shiver on its gigantic hinges.
Then the last explosion brings it down with a thundering scream that rattles the ground we’re standing on.
“Close the doors,” I signal to one of the men. “And get to the shooting points.”