“I should have saved you…” She trails off, her eyes going unfocused. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I’m so sorry. Find my boys… help them…”
“Are they still alive?”
“Dermot’s hurt. Mal’s… gone. Your father… he left me too.” Her smile is bitter. “I tried to stop them…” She sighs, one long, rattling breath, and goes still. Her eyes flutter as she loses consciousness. She slumps against me.
“Mom, please wake up. You have to stay with me! Mom!” I lay her down gently and try to shake her, but there’s so much blood. It’s coming out slower from her wounds, like the last dregs of a cracked bottle.
“Come on, I’ve got you now.” Finn’s hands are strong and clean. He tugs me back from my mother’s body. From her unmoving corpse. “Seamus will clean this up. If she can be saved, they’ll save her.”
But I know she’s past that. He knows it too.
I stare at her as righteous anger slowly rolls down my spine. I wipe my face, leaving another smear of blood across my cheek, and turn to my husband. He seems mildly surprised when I grab him by the wrist.
“We have to finish what she started.”
“Caroline—”
“They’re hurt. They were fighting. We have to find them, and I know where we’re going first.”
He watches me, and I know what he’s thinking. I’m not thinking straight. I just lost my mother in the most brutal way imaginable.
And he’s completely right, but that doesn’t change a damn thing.
They’re weak. My brothers are injured. Which means they’re vulnerable, and now it’s time. We pushed them to their limit, but I don’t think it was enough.
They’re still alive, but only for now.
Finn follows me from the office, back to the car, and he doesn’t argue when I tell him where to go.
37
CAROLINE
Iwalk straight through the lobby and get into the elevator. The doorman stares at me and I smile back sweetly.
“You got some, uh, red stuff on you, sweetheart.” He points in my general direction. “Is that blood? You at some kind of costume contest or something?”
“Oh, no worries. It’s not mine.”
The doorman’s face turns pale. Finn looms beside me and the guy glances over at my husband. “You folks okay? You need anything?”
“We’re good.” Finn stares at him until the doors slide shut and the elevator jerks into motion.
“Does everyone act like you’re some kind of scary monster all the time?”
“Pretty much.”
“I like it.”
“You get used to it.”
We stand in companionable silence as the elevator continues to rise. I hum to myself, singing the corporate-sounding tune, until we reach the penthouse level. The elevator dings and I step into the entry hall.
Ahead, the apartment’s door looks like it was smashed off its hinges. It’s lying sideways like a rhino burst straight through.
Finn goes first, gun out. He pauses at the threshold. “More blood,” he says.
This time, that sounds like good news.