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“Lev!” I carefully roll him over and not-as-carefully smack the side of his face. “Lev, man, wake up. For the love of God, wake up!”
He groans.
Thank God.
“Breh…” He coughs, wheezes, and tries to grab at my coat. “Brennan. Fucking… Brennan.”
I feel my blood run cold. “He’s here? Brennan’s here?”
“He… he shot me,” Lev wheezes again as he tries to nod. “He fucking shot… Lemme… lemme…”
“I’m going to handle it. And we’re going to get you help, okay?”
“She’s… she’s in there. Daphne…”
The rage inside me boils. My hands shake with the need to slam them into something. Someone. Brennan.
A pair of my other men rush over to help load Lev into their SUV. More and more Bratva vehicles are peeling into the driveway of the Hamish manor, with vors and guards and foot soldiers alike surrounding the building and sweeping the grounds.
Arlo storms across the dead lawn, gun drawn and jaw set. “What’s the plan?”
I straighten and unholster my own weapon. “Get Daphne out. She’s priority. Kill whoever you have to.”
He nods. “Of course.” As I start making my way to the decrepit house, he falls in stride.
I’m still not in the headspace to embrace him as my father. But I can appreciate that, even now, in the face of everything, he’s not questioning me or leaving my side.
It makes me wonder if this is what having a good father is like.
Voices are rising from inside the main entrance of the manor. I force myself to resist barreling in at the sound of Daphne’s voice, instead glancing around to make sure everyone is in position.
Sofi darts around back. Four of her men follow her, guns and knives drawn.
Lev is loaded into the SUV and they roll out, silently until they’re far enough from the house to gun it to the hospital.
I need to time this just right. I can’t see through the stupid frosted glass if Brennan has a gun to Daphne’s head.
“Or…” I hear him loudly scoff. “I kill your parents. Fuck that sweet body of yours. Then kill you right when he gets here so I can kill him while he’s too distracted mourning your dead, defiled corpse. Yeah. I like that plan better.”
The only reason why I don’t kick the door down right here and now is because Arlo holds out his arm and gives me a cold, knowing look.
Then he knocks.
Brennan’s voice dies down. No one else seems to speak.
Footsteps approach the door. It opens, and Brennan stares at us in dumbfounded shock.
My first thought is murder. My second and third thoughts are, too.
But then I’m distracted. Motion, behind him. A familiar blur of gleaming auburn hair.
My heart stops.
Then Daphne dives for his legs. Not his gun. It’s a smooth, swift move that catches Brennan by surprise and literally sweeps him off his feet.
My fucking queen.
Arlo barrels into the room without a word, aiming his gun at the Hamishes. Doors and windows burst open all throughout the house as my Bratva storms inside and begins the search for traps, guards, anything that could blow us off the map without warning.
