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Connor burst into the room, his face pale. “It’s Tomas. He’s here.”
My heart leapt into my throat. “What? How?”
“No idea. But I imagine it was his companion,” Connor said, shaking his head.
Rory’s eyes narrowed. “Companion? What the hell do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see. He’s outside, demanding to see Declan.”
Rory cursed under his breath. “Who’s with him?”
Connor’s eyes darted between us. “MelorVolkov.”
The room fell silent as the weight of his words sank in. Rory’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening.
“Stay here,” he ordered, already moving towards the door. “Lock it behind me and don’t open it for anyone but the family that lives in this house.”
“Like hell I will,” I snapped, pushing myself off the bed. My leg protested, but I ignored it. “This is my father we are talking about, Rory. I’m coming with you.”
For a moment, it looked like he might argue. Then he nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Alright. But stay behind me, got it? Connor!”
“Right here Rory,” he responded.
“Call Declan and tell him to get his ass home now,” he muttered, heading towards the staircase.
“Already did.” Connor replied. “Him and Wren are on their way, and I gave your mother the code for the panic room and told her to take the dog with her.”
“Should have let Killer loose, maybe he would have taken Volkov down,” I said.
“No,” Rory grunted. “Guaranteed he would have attacked me instead.”
I chuckled as we made our way to the frontdoor. But once there, the tension in the air was palpable. I could hear raised voices coming from outside - one I recognized as Tomas’s, the other Volkov’s.
Rory paused at the door, his hand on the knob. He looked back at me, his expression grim. “Ready?”
I took a deep breath and nodded. Whatever was waiting for us on the other side of that door, we’d face it together and hopefully soon because I was fading fast.
Before Rory pulled it, he looked at Connor and said, “Stay here. If this goes sideways, you call in the army, got it?”
“Army?” I muttered. “What do you mean by army?”
“An army of our men,” Connor explained. “I have them on standby as it is.”
“Good,” Rory said. Then he turned the doorknob and opened the door and what we saw was Tomas sitting in a chair in the middle of the circular driveway with Volkov pointing a gun at his head.
My heart raced as I took in the scene. Tomas’s face was a mask of fear and confusion as his fingers gripped the armrests of the chair.
Rory’s hand immediately went to his hip, but Volkov’s eyes snapped to us, and he stilled hismovement.
“Ah, there is the wannabe son of the great Tomas MacGallan,” Volkov drawled, his accent thick. “And with a little friend, one that I want. Where is Declan?”
“He’s on his way,” Rory growled, as he tucked me behind him, his other hand still hovering near his concealed weapon. “Now why don’t you tell us what this is all about, Volkov?”
The Russian’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Patience, boy. All will be revealed in due time. For now, I suggest you and your pretty, little friend there take a seat. We wouldn’t want any... accidents.”
I felt Rory tense beside me, but he slowly guided us both to the cement bench against the outside wall, his eyes never leaving Volkov.
“What do you want?” Tomas asked, his voice steady despite the gun aimed at his temple.
