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“Wouldn’t we have seen him if he were on the grounds?” Cora asks.
Likely yes, but I’m not sure what else to do.
“We’ll start with the orchard. Maybe he forgot something earlier when he was working on the trees, and he nipped back on his way to the house.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Cora agrees.
We’re about to head back to the side-by-side when another thought sets in. Hurrying to the tool board where Tag hung the axe the other night, I grab that and a pitchfork, just in case.
“If we don’t find him in the orchard, we’ll drive down to the gate and alert Andrew that we need help. Tag told me if I need anything, Andrew will swoop in with a team.”
Cora nods. “All right. I hate to raise such a fuss, but Connor just wouldn’t disappear like this.”
“No, he wouldn’t. Don’t worry. We’ll find?—”
The hit comes from behind and knocks me flying forward toward the ground. I must lose consciousness for a bit because the next thing I know, I’m being dragged across the grass toward the shadows.
“Who? What?” I’m not sure I’m even forming coherent words. My head is ringing and I’m pretty sure whoever hit me used the abandoned piece of lumber that’s now lying on the ground.
Cora. Where is Cora?
I shake my head, trying to clear the muddle of my mind. I see her then, down and bleeding in the grass by the stables. She isn’t moving.
No. This can’t be happening.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Tag
The night air is filled with the roar of our engine as Aiden pushes the Navigator to its limits through the winding streets of Dublin. The urgency is palpable, thick as the tension that hangs between us.
They’ve gone after Rose.
They’ll pay for it, too.
I check my gun and my extra clips as we close the distance to Rose’s quaint row house.
Aiden’s grip on the steering wheel is iron-tight, his jaw set. As we approach Rose’s house, the scene ahead spikes my adrenaline even higher.
There’s an SUV idling in the driveway, likely planning to take Rose away in a quick snatch and grab.
Aiden’s maneuvering becomes even more aggressive as he swings the truck into the driveway, blocking the other SUV from escaping. We don’t even fully stop before I’m out, gun drawn, and racing toward the house.
The driver of the SUV scrambles out and makes it two steps before Aiden, calm and precise, takes him down with a single shot. The thud of the body hitting the pavement is sweet music to my ears as we press forward.
This won’t go unnoticed.
The sound of gunfire has already alerted the force inside of our arrival.
Doesn’t matter. They’re all going down, anyway.
Aiden and I move through the shadows, our formation practiced and precise. The front door is open, the house dark. Our boots on the entrance floor are the only sound until the gunfire erupts again.
Aiden curses, aiming for the point of light flaring as guns discharge in the darkness. I do the same.
“Two in the living room!” I shout.
“Footsteps upstairs!” Aiden responds.
