Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Killing her brother’s men would hurt her.
Killing Colm Sheridan would hurt her, if only because it would forever cut her off from part of her family.
Painted myself into a goddamn corner with that one, didn’t I?
The only warning he got was a slight exhale behind him and a shift in the air. Jude threw himself sideways, slamming into the wall as none other than Teague fucking O’Malley flew past him. The man barely missed a beat, drawing his gun on Jude. “Where is my sister?”
Jude measured the distance between them. Close enough that he had a chance at disarming the man before he got a shot off. Far enough that it wasn’t a guarantee. Jude looked up, tracking the sets of footsteps searching. Another six men at least. He could throw himself out the window to his right, but he’d leave a trail of blood straight to the boat that any fool could follow. The back door was a better bet, but he had to go through Teague to get there.
Shit.
“Your sister made her choice.”
Teague shook his head. “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. I’d like to hear her say it herself.”
“You did on the phone not too long ago. Who’s to say you’ll listen any better a second time?” Jude inched toward the door. He could rush the other man and hope for the best. He might get a bullet for his trouble, but as long as it didn’t hit anything vital, he had a better chance of covering the blood trail from a single wound than he did if he went through the window. Best chance I’m going to get.
“If you’re who you say you are, I know what you’re here for. I don’t even blame you.” Teague followed him with the gun, the barrel not wavering in the least. “But the fact remains—if you’re looking to hurt my sister or my wife, I’ll bury you.”
Jude could respect that, though hell if he wanted to. It was so much easier to hate everything about the Boston underworld before he started meeting the players one-on-one. Before Sloan. Jude took another step to the side. “I would never hurt Sloan.”
“Holy fuck.” Teague’s eyes went wide. “Don’t think you can play that card with me. I know my sister. She would never choose someone like you—not willingly.”
“Guess you don’t know Sloan as well as you think.” He rushed the other man. The gun went off and fire exploded in his side, but he didn’t stop. Jude kicked Teague’s knee out, then slammed a fist into his face. He didn’t go down, but he was stunned long enough for Jude to run through the door and into the trees. Each step hurt like a bitch, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, didn’t do anything but keep one hand on his side to keep the blood blossoming there from hitting the ground.
The pain didn’t matter. The fucking wound didn’t matter, either.
All that mattered was getting back to Sloan.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sloan nearly screamed when Jude rushed out of the trees, covered in blood and panting. “Oh my God!”
“I didn’t…kill…anyone.” He stumbled a little, but shook his head when she rushed to his side. “Boat. We have to…go.”
“Sit down right this instant.” She bit her lip and went to the boat. “I can get it into the water.” Probably. She didn’t wait for his response, digging her bare feet into the rocks and pushing with all her might. The boat moved a few inches, not nearly as heavy as she’d expected. She’d gotten it another few inches closer to the water when Jude appeared next to her. “Sit down.”
“Don’t have time.” He shoved the boat, sending it halfway into the water. “Get in.”
There was no time to argue, not with the steady stream of blood trailing down his side. He’s been shot. Her stomach lurched, but she muscled the reaction down. Her having a meltdown wouldn’t do anything but add to their trouble. He wouldn’t let her help him until they were away, so she needed to ensure they got somewhere safe where she could patch him up as best she could.
Sloan climbed into the boat, her heart in her throat as he pushed them the rest of the way into the water and rolled over the side to lie in the bottom. “Pull the cord on the engine. Takes a few tries.”
She braced herself and yanked, and then again. On the third try, it caught, roaring to life. Sloan tested the handle, quickly discovering the basics of driving. “Where are we going?”
“Sloan!”
She twisted to see Teague standing on the shore, several of his men behind him. She recognized that man who always guarded Callie, Micah, nursing what looked like a broken nose, but the rest of the men were only vaguely familiar. Gauging the distance between the boat and where her brother stood, she gave it a little more gas so he’d have to swim if he came after her. “Go home, Teague.”