Page 9
“She was running blind across my land with my dogs behind her,” he says. “And you know what happens when dogs take a runner in the dark?”
The man doesn’t answer.
“They don’t bring her back neat and breathing because you got impatient.”
The man by the table swallows. “I thought—”
“You didn’t think,” Fionn bites out. “Her brothers have Keira. And having a Tallon turn up dead would risk my sister's life.”
My stomach drops.
Bastard.
I take one step back while Fionn’s attention stays with the man by the door, the argument becoming the perfect distraction.
There must be another way out.
“You let my dogs loose without my order,” Fionn says. “How about I put you in the field and see how fast you make it to the wall.”
When I take one more step, a hand clamps over my mouth from behind.
The other catches my hair and yanks my head back so hard my scalp burns. My scream dies under a rough palm, and before I can bite down, cold metal slides against my throat.
“Don’t fucking move, Tallon,” the man mutters.
His breath saws against my cheeks, and his palm seals harder over my mouth when I try to scream.
Despite the knife in his hand being sharp, his elbow is flared because he’s more interested in scaring me than holding me properly.
If I drop my weight, he’ll pull up to keep the blade at my throat. And if he does that, his ribs will open, and I’ll have half a second.
The palm over my mouth slips a fraction as the masked man adjusts his grip, and I seize the opportunity, angling my head and biting hard on the exposed flesh of his hand.
He jerks, and his loud curse makes Fionn turn as I clamp both hands around the knife and drive my heel into the masked man’s shin.
It all happens so fast.
His hand leaves my mouth to grab my hair, and I use the space, throwing my forehead into his nose with everything I have.
Once the blade falls, he lunges at me, but I catch him around the neck and lock my forearm hard across his throat.
I get behind him and drag him down with me, my teeth clenched against the pain in my ribs, my boots sliding through dirty straw.
His hands claw at me, but I sink the hold deeper and squeeze his neck in the crook of my arm until his breath starts to break apart in wet, panicked rasps.
A man shouts somewhere across the barn, but I barely register it until a boot catches my hip first, knocking me sideways.
The masked man standing over me kicks me again, harder this time, and my vision goes black at the edges.
Another kick comes, followed by a gunshot that tears through the barn. The man booting me drops where he stands.
Blood spreads black beneath him through the straw.
My ears ring as the man I’m choking convulses. I look up to find Fionn lowering his gun at the same time as the dogs outside start barking.
Headlights sweep across the barn walls in jagged strips of white. I hold on because Fionn Harrington just killed one of his own men.
The man thumps weakly at my forearm, and his body bucks once, twice, then he goes heavy against me.
