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Or lack thereof.
Seamus put down covering fire while Sweeney backed away from the fight. I caught a glimpse of his face—his features twisted in a snarl—before he disappeared through the front door of the restaurant. I followed his movement with the muzzle of my gun, firing as soon as I got a clear shot. The window shattered, and the clan boss threw up his arm to protect himself from the razor-sharp glass, but did not slow down.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Did you get him?” Finnan asked, peering through the gap in the table, not taking his eyes off Seamus and the remaining Fiach enforcers.
“No.”
“Bastard! If I can’t take out the clan boss, I’ll take out his fucking second.”
He took aim at Seamus and pulled the trigger. A spray of blood misted into the air, followed by a low moan.
“Fall back,” yelled a pained voice. “Fall… back.” An enforcer was dragging Seamus from the restaurant, his booted feet disappearing from between the jamb.
Outside, the wail of police sirens began to howl through the night.
“Finnan, we have to get you out of here. We don’t own the cops in this town.”
Reloading his gun, he asked, “Where’s the girl?”
“I left her in the bathroom.”
“Get her.”
I hurried through the destruction, stepping over dead bodies, broken furniture, and glass. Hammering on the bathroom door, I called out for Sloane. “Lass? It’s me.”
There was no response.
Panic seized my shoulders.
I pushed against the door, swearing when I saw it was unlocked.
With my foot, I eased the door open, and when I didn’t get shot at, I stepped into the tiled room. After checking the stalls, I realized Sloane was nowhere in sight.
It was empty.
It was goddamnempty!
I slammed my fist against the closest stall door, the hinges whining in protest.
Fuck.
Fuck.
FUCK!
Where the hell had she gone?
When I walked out of the restroom, Finnan was there. He looked over my shoulder. “Where the hell is she?”
I swallowed roughly, knowing the next word out of my mouth could be my last. “Gone.”
“What the fuck do you meangone? Where did she go?”
Shaking my head, I told him, “I don’t know.”
Brushing past me, Finnan’s anger sparked against my skin. He looked around the restroom, then barked Sloane’s name. When he came back out again, he ran a hand through his hair.
