Page 42 of Bloody Knuckles

"I'm sure he was." I move toward the window, surveying the men below. "Nearly as disturbed as I am to learn my brother orchestrated a three-year betrayal with Finn Donovan. But no one likes to see their sister getting off."

Martin's surprise registers in his sudden stillness. "You're misinformed."

"Murphy confessed before the Cassidys killed him," I counter. "Told me everything about Liam's arrangement with Finn. About how my kidnapping wasn't part of the plan, but proved useful for Liam's ambitions."

"Murphy was compromised." Martin dismisses the accusation. "Whatever he told you?—"

"Was confirmed by Finn before Cormac executed him," I finish. "So, tell me, Martin, which brother am I supposed to trust? The one who kidnapped me? Or the one who used me as a pawn in his power play?"

Martin sighs, dropping the facade. "Liam did what was necessary for the future of the Gallagher organization. Your father's leadership has grown outdated. His feuds with the Donovan’s, wasteful. Progress requires new vision."

"And that vision includes killing Connor and Declan? Declaring open war on the Donovan’s when we had a temporary truce?"

"Calculated risk." Martin shrugs. "Donovan was getting too comfortable with you. Too attached. It compromised Liam's leverage."

So that was it—Liam feared losing control of the situation as Cormac and I grew closer. My usefulness as a bargaining chip diminished with every day I spent willingly in Cormac's bed.

Voices rise from the warehouse floor. A commotion at the main entrance draws Martin's attention.

"Wait here," he orders, moving toward the door. "Liam's arrived."

Once alone again, I press against the window. Below, not Liam but a bloodied guard staggers through the entrance, collapsing as others rush to him. Shouts echo through the cavernous space. Men take defensive positions, weapons drawn.

Not Liam's arrival. An attack.

Cormac.

The realization hits as the first explosion rocks the building. The main warehouse doors blow inward, shrapnel and smoke filling the space. Gunfire erupts—Donovan's men storm the breach, led by a massive figure in black tactical gear.

Even from this distance, I'd recognize Cormac's methodical violence anywhere.

The office door flies open. Sean rushes in, panic evident. "We're compromised. Donovan's here with at least twenty men. We need to move you now."

"To where?" I demand, backing away. "My brother? Or are you delivering me to another bidder in this fight?"

Sean grabs my arm. "No time for questions. Now!"

I allow him to pull me from the office, down a metal staircase to the warehouse floor. Chaos reigns—smoke, gunfire, men falling on both sides. Sean drags me toward a back exit, using shipping containers as cover.

"This way!"

A bullet strikes the container beside us, spraying metal fragments. Sean curses, pushing me lower as we run. The back exit is up ahead—just twenty meters through gunfire and smoke.

"Stop." Another man blocks our path—Martin, weapon drawn. "Change of plans. Liam wants her at the secondary location."

"There's no time," Sean argues. "Donovan's men are everywhere."

"We still have the south exit," Martin insists. "Four men waiting with a boat. Water escape while they're focused on the road."

Sean hesitates, then nods. "Fine. South dock."

They hustle me through a maze of containers, the sounds of battle receding slightly. The docks open up ahead—gray water churning against concrete barriers, a small speedboat idling with armed men aboard.

"Get her on board," Martin orders. "I'll cover."

Sean grips my arm, pulling me toward the water. This is it—my last chance before being delivered to Liam, before becoming a permanent pawn in his game against both Cormac and my father.

I stumble deliberately, falling against Sean. "My arm?—"

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