on the wound in Dom’s chest. “We’ve cleared the area,” he informs me. “The rest of them ran off when it became obvious it was a fight they wouldn’t win.”
“Felicity?” I ask.
Gio shakes his head. “No sign of her.”
“Fuck.” My head swims with everything that I’ve learned, everything that has happened. I can hardly believe that Lynch is actually dead.
Before I can think about anything else, I need to gather up the wounded and get my men out of here. It could be only a matter of minutes before the Irish return with reinforcements.
“Can we move him?” I ask Gio, who has some medical training.
He nods. “We have to.”
The two of us carry Dom out while Antonio pulls out the rest of the men, coordinating the removal of the dead and wounded and setting fire to the warehouse once everyone is out. Dom groans and hisses the whole way to the waiting SUV, but I take that as a good sign. He’s going to make it. He has to.
I can’t lose anyone else.
Gio manages to stanch the bleeding in the car, and we drop him and Dom off at a private medical center for further treatment. On the way, Antonio reports three dead and five more wounded, though none as bad as Dom. All in all, the attack was a success. I wish we had been able to take Lynch alive though. Felicity will go into hiding now, and without her lover’s help, I doubt we will be able to find her.
That’s a problem for another time. Right now, all I can think about is getting home to my family.
When we reach the mansion, I hop out of the SUV before it has even come to a complete stop. I rush up the front steps and into the foyer. For the first time, I regret having such a large house. Is she upstairs in the nursery? Or downstairs in the living room?
Angelo and Clara walk into the foyer from the direction of the living room.
“Alexis is through there,” Angelo offers.
I nod to him and dart down the hall. It isn’t until I’m in the living room that I realize Angelo and Clara were holding hands.
Alexis is sitting on the couch with her laptop balanced on her knee when I enter. There is an open bag of Twizzlers next to her, and one is dangling from her lips. She looks up and smiles, biting off the end of the Twizzler and chewing as she closes the lid of her computer and sets it aside.
“Hey,” she says, as though she isn’t at all surprised to see me alive. As though she had full confidence that I would keep my promise and come back to her. As though it doesn’t faze her to see me covered in blood.
She unfolds herself from the couch and picks her way through the room until she is in front of me, her small hands resting on my chest.
“It’s not yours, right?” she asks.
I look down at my shirt and hands, stained brown with dried blood. I shake my head. “It’s not mine.”
I need to tell her. I need to tell her what Kevin Lynch confirmed with his last gurgling breath.
“I missed you,” Alexis says, and pops up on her toes to press a soft kiss on my cheek. My heart thuds, and I pull her into my arms.
I need to tell her. But not tonight.
29
Gabriel
The problem with the calm before the storm is that even though you know the storm is coming, the calm still feels good. You still want to relax in it. Revel in it. Enjoy that even just for this moment, the chaos cannot reach you.
I have had a week of this calm since I killed Kevin Lynch. I can tell that something big is brewing. Fuck, I can practically taste it on the wind, see the clouds gathering on the horizon, bloated and gray. But it still feels good not to spend my days in chaos, and to be able to take the time to enjoy some of life’s more subtle pleasures.
Like bringing my woman flowers.
I knock on the door to Alexis’ room, the scent of roses tickling my nose from the bouquet in my hand.
“Come in,” she calls.
I enter. Alexis is sitting at her desk, typing on her laptop. She has been threading together all of her research to write a follow-up article to the one that caused me so much trouble the last time. She worries she will never finish it