Page 94 of Brutal Knight

Connor hits the ground in the blink of an eye, blood pouring from the wound. It looks horrifying. I’m frozen in place, shock locking my limbs. My heart feels like a stone in my chest as I stare down at him.

Strong arms wrap around me as someone grabs me from behind. I twist, hoping wildly that it’s one of his brothers. I want to see Lachlan’s face, see his calm expression and know it’ll be fine. I want to see Aiden, grim but determined, ready to pull Connor off the ground. I want Finn to be here, lunging at whoever did this.

What I get instead is my father, his face dark, his eyes flinty. There’s a spark of satisfaction in their depths.

No. No. No!

I open my mouth to scream, but he claps a hand over my lips. Something pungent stings my nostrils, and my legs buckle as he starts to drag me away. My eyelids droop, the strength draining from my muscles.

The last thing I see is Connor's body sprawled on the ground, blood spreading slowly across his shirt.

CHAPTER35

Connor

I hear Willow scream, a vague sound that I can’t quite focus on. It tears me apart more than the bullet ever could.

The sound echoes in my head, warping. I know I’m not entirely conscious. I can feel it, like being underwater. Everything is muffled. I try not to go all the way under. I know if I do, the chances I’ll come back up are slim.

Somewhere in my mind, a memory surfaces. My parents—my birth parents—move like shadows before me. I’m a child again, too young and powerless to do anything.

The gunshots that killed them ring in my ears. Tires squeal, and the air fills with the shouts of the O’Reilly family’s men. I can see the scramble of people running around me. They all move, but I’m stuck in place, my whole world swallowed to a tiny point.

I remember pressing my hands to their bodies to try to stop the blood. I never would have had enough hands to make it work. But I was a kid, and I tried.

I tried to save them as they bled out. I tried to save them from the mafia attack that came out of nowhere and stole them both from me.

And that memory bleeds into another, the same thread of blood red connecting them. I can remember finding Callum’s body too, on the day my adoptive father died. That time, it wasn’t just me mourning or hurting. It was Lachlan, Aiden, Finn, everyone else. We all lost a father.

Then it was Siobhan, my adoptive mother. I had hope, tried to hold out for the longest time—but then, we realized it was over. There was nothing left to do but let her go in peace.

I’ve lost so many people I’ve loved.

I can’t die. I can’t leave Willow.

I can’t let her be taken like this. No matter who has her, I can’t let her fall into the same pain and horror she was finally supposed to be free from. I won’t let it happen.

I have to save her.

If I have to bleed out to do it, I will. If I have to tear down everything I’ve built, I will. Nothing is going to stop me. If I die on the street, I’ll force my way back just to find whoever did this.

Groaning as I force my unwilling body to cooperate, I open my eyes and pull my phone from my jacket, then press the right number with bloody, shaking fingers.

I make the call to Lachlan, the words pooling in my mouth along with the taste of copper, then I sink under the weight of unconsciousness as it presses down on me.

* * *

I come back slowly. I’m aware of my body first, feeling how heavy it is and how numb my limbs are.

I’m aware of voices, low and murmuring. I can hear something that sounds like white noise to me, a static or whooshing. Then I can hear more distant voices, ones with cool tones that I don’t know, speaking about something that sounds official.

The smell is what really wakes me.

It smells like a hospital. I know it by now, the antiseptic and cleaner. I visited Siobhan so often that I came to smell it in my dreams sometimes, the hospital-clean perfume that triggered all the specific memories in my head.

I start to blink, coming back to the world for the first time since I was shot.

I’m not sure what I’ll see, but I find my brothers with me. They’re standing and sitting around the room, their faces serious and taut.

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