“Pretty good,” Sin replies, lifting his chin to the door. “Shall we?”
“Yeah,” Vinnie says, pushing the key into the lock and turning it. The door opens, making a creaky sound. “Stay between us, Shay.”
With Vinnie in front and Sin at the back, I play the meat in a Wind Dragon sandwich, as we enter the house and look around.
“This place is fuckin’ insane,” Sin comments, whistling. “Our clubhouse must be like a shack to you.”
I turn and give him a dirty look, which only makes him grin.
When they decide the place looks safe enough, I head to my room and start to take the things I want. Vinnie carries everything down to the SUV, packing it in the back. I walk into my parents’ room, my fingers trailing along the wall. I remember when I used to hide inside my dad’s walk-in closet as a child, playing with my dolls and trying to jump out and scare him when I could hear him. I remember my mom brushing my hair while I sat on their bed, and telling me that I was her favorite girl. When she died from cancer, it was just my father and me.
I sit on his bed and make a list of everything I want to do, donate his expensive designer clothes and suits, sell the house already furnished so I didn’t have to worry about the furniture. Who knows what could be found in this house though, what things my father tried to hide or keep away from everyone?
“You okay?” Vinnie asks, standing in the doorway in his black V-neck T-shirt and jeans, pulling me out of my thoughts. I check him out from head to toe, admiring him for a moment, before getting off the bed and closing the space between us.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I’m just making a list of what I want done with everything.”
“Good idea,” he says, placing his hands on my hips. “Do you need any help?”
“No, I’m good,” I tell him. “I’m just going to finish up in my room and then I’ll be done.”
“Okay,” he says, hand on my nape. “You know I’m here if you need anything, but if you want to do it alone, I get it too, all right?”
I nod and place a kiss on his chest, then head to my bedroom.
The quicker I get this over with, the better.
* * *
A few hours later, I’m downstairs, sitting in the den with Vinnie and Sin. Both of them seem on edge, and it’s making me nervous. The sun has just gone down, leaving an almost eerie feeling, like we were all just waiting for something to go wrong.
“What is it?” I ask softly, looking between the two men.
When I hear a noise coming from the front door, I instantly stand. Vinnie grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen, where he looks out the back door.
“They’re here,” Sin announces, pulling his gun out. “You ready for this, brother?”
“I was born ready,” Vinnie replies, pulling out his phone and barking into it, “Now.”
Irish suddenly appears at the back door out of nowhere, and Vinnie quickly lets him in.
“There are six men,” he says, looking at me. “The back exit is secure. I can get her out, and then I’ll come back for you.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, looking straight to Vinnie. “What are you going to do?”
“No time, Shay,” he says, gripping my face and giving me a hard kiss. “Go with Irish, and do as he says, now.”
Irish grabs my wrist, but my eyes are still pleading with Vinnie. “I don’t like not knowing what you’re planning. If anything happens to you . . . to any of you . . . Vinnie, just leave with me, now.”
He doesn’t even look at me this time, just says, “Irish, take her. They’re going to be inside any second.”
Irish grabs me, and I let him. I don’t need to make this any harder on them, but at the same time I want to rage and scream. He didn’t tell me anything! He left me in the dark, and in this moment, I hate him for it. I just hope he doesn’t get hurt, I pray that he doesn’t. And Sin—he can’t get hurt. He’s a father, with another baby on the way. I wish I knew how they planned to get out of this safely.
Irish takes me outside, where a car I’ve never seen before is parked in back. I have to say though, when he puts me in the trunk, that’s not exactly how I expected his saving me to go.
* * *
He opens the trunk about ten minutes later, but still, it was fucking terrifying in there.
“I’m going to kill you,” I tell him, gasping for air. Luckily I’m not claustrophobic, but still, holy shit.
“Sorry, darlin’,” he says, checking over me. “We didn’t have any other choice. I had to make sure anyone watching only saw me in the car. You all right?”
“I’m alive,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself. “Where are we?”
I look around. We were parked in front of a large, old-looking house. Irish leads me to the front yard, which overlooks streets of houses. The house was high up on a hill, so you can easily see everything below. He points, and I instantly know what he’s pointing at.
“My house,” I say, squinting to try to see. “You need to tell me what the plan is, Irish, please, because I’m freaking the fuck out here.”
I hate the sympathetic look that flashes across his face. No, it wasn’t sympathy—it was pity, which is a million times worse.
A flash of red catches my eye.
I turn back to my house and watch in absolute shock and horror as it explodes.
All I see is fire and smoke, all I feel is my heart racing, fear and shock.