Page 7 of Then We Shatter

“Ah, don’t you be worrying about that,” Tiernan says when he really should shut the fuck up. “I come with backup. Literally.” He tips his head to the front of the truck where Ronan is peering through the small window from the driver’s cab.

Ronan’s hair is a sandy brown, just a touch lighter than Tiernan’s, but the best way to tell the twins apart is the cow’s lick curl resting at the center of his forehead. He winks at Katarina. “Satisfaction guaranteed,” he shouts through the glass.

“If either of you go near her, you won’t be left with a pair of balls between you,” I snap.

“Jesus Christ! No one is fucking anyone!” Malachy erupts, tugging Lorcan back into his seat and trusting I won’t smash my fist into Tiernan’s smug face. “I shouldn’t need to point this out but you…” He jabs a finger in my face, “are a McConkey and she…” He aims his digit in Katarina’s direction next, “is a Barkov. One day you’ll be head of this family and she’ll be head of the Bratva, our sworn enemy. And let’s not forget we killed her brother not that long ago.”

“Half-brother,” Katarina corrects. “And if I take issue with what happened, it’s that I wasn’t the one to kill him.’

Ilya Barkov was a nasty piece of work who specialized in human trafficking. I’m relieved his sister doesn’t mourn his death.

“But don’t worry on my account, Malachy,” she continues. “I wouldn’t fuck your brothers if they crawled to me on their hands and knees and begged.”

Malachy checks for my reaction, but I’ve schooled my expression. I’m not sure how far I’d go to get between Katarina’s legs, but it’s further than I’d comfortably admit. I don’t know why I’m obsessing over this woman. Maybe the Russians have devised a pheromone that’s making Katarina irresistible, but if that’s the case, Malachy and Lorcan are clearly immune.

“But I do worry about you, princess,” Malachy persists, looking her up and down in a way that inconceivably suggests he doesn’t like what he sees. “We’re about to storm into a secret Bratva compound full of deserters from your uncle’s army, and the charge is being led by our good friend Ash Griffin, the man who’s just broken off your very brief engagement. If I had to guess whose side you’re on, it’s not ours.”

“Ash trusts her and so do I,” I cut in. Now that my brother is staring at Katarina, I like it even less. They look ready to kill each other.

“Don’t presume to know anything about me,” Katarina warns him. “I’m the one who told Ash where the hideout was. Those sketches of the layout you’ve been studying are mine. You can thank me later.”

Malachy sneers. “Don’t hold your breath. You wouldn’t be doing this if there wasn’t something in it for you.”

I hate agreeing with Malachy, but it’s a fair point. I’m not so far under Katarina’s thrall that I don’t see the very big question mark over why she’s involving herself in this. I’m aware of the pressure her uncle is putting on her to find a rich husband he can exploit, and it’s no surprise she wasn’t able to trap Ash for long, but news that she’s now dating a Moncrief is a surprise. The Scottish titans of the hospitality industry are friends of the Griffins and, by extension, friends of mine too, but I don’t know Duke particularly well. I’d bet everything I have it isn’t a love match, which beggars the question why the Griffins and Moncriefs are keeping her close. I know why I’d keep her close, but that’s another matter.

All I know for sure is that tonight we’re walking into danger and we need to work as a team, and for better or for worse, that includes the niece of the Bratva’s pakhan.

“This conversation ends now,” I say, raising my voice so everyone in the truck hears.

I expect my men to follow my lead without question, but Malachy’s little speech will have planted doubts. My brother’s an expert strategist, but he sometimes forgets we’re not inanimate cogs in a mostly well-oiled engine. If he wants to replace me as second in command when I take over from Dad, he needs to learn how to instill confidence, especially when we’re about to go into battle.

“Tonight, Katarina is one of ours and we protect our own. Agreed?” My men agree without hesitation. Malachy is the last, but he nods. Reluctantly. And that just leaves one person. I turn to Katarina. “Agreed?”

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “I’ve stayed at the compound. I know the buildings and I know the kind of men you’re going to face. Despite what your brother thinks, I am a useful asset. So use me.”

“I intend to,” I confirm and as we lock eyes, something passes between us. A promise or a warning. I’m not sure which.

When I tear my gaze away, Malachy’s staring down at his hands. Good, I haven’t given anything way. And then I notice Lorcan. His scrutiny makes me uncomfortable.

He cocks his head to the side. “Shorty?” he asks, repeating the name Katarina used on me

Trust him to pick up on the one tiny detail my other brothers missed in the middle of our argument.

“He’s shorter than me,” Katarina explains.

“Six foot one is not shorter than five foot eleven,” I say through gritted teeth.

The first time I met Katarina was at a charity event for the Griffins. We’d stood eye to eye, hence why she’d given me my nickname, but the only reason we matched in height was because Katarina was wearing her fuck-me stilettos. I glance at her feet. Only Katarina would wear boots with a high heel going into combat.

She casts a critical gaze over my brothers, sizing them up. “When you were all standing together, you were definitely the shortest, Shorty.”

Katarina and I had travelled with the Griffins from Chicago on their private jet. We’d landed on a stretch of highway that had been temporarily blocked off after Malachy greased the palms of the local police. My brothers and our small army of faithful soldiers had been waiting in the dark for us. Our mission was simple. Get Ash Griffin’s girl back at all costs. I shouldn’t be surprised that amongst all the chaos of coordinating our teams, Katarina Barkov was measuring us up.

“Yeah, I suppose Killian is the shortest,” Tiernan says helpfully.

“Still over six foot,” I remind Katarina. “And taller than you once I get you out of your–”

Brakes screech and the truck comes to a shuddering stop. From the commands being barked outside, the rest of our cavalcade has also come to a halt. We all draw our weapons.