when Cillian swerved and started singing “Kiss Me, I’m Shitfaced” at the top of his lungs. “Damn it, shut up. You’ll get the cops called on us for sure.”
“That’s sure to get us the look from Mother.” Teague laughed. Headlights cut through the night, blinding them. Devlin yanked him back onto the sidewalk, waiting for the truck or whatever it was to drive past.
Except it didn’t.
A car door opened in the sudden silence of the night. Behind him, Aiden cursed, but Teague still didn’t get it…until a man stepped in front of the headlights, a gun in his hand. Shit. He backpedaled, keeping a death grip on Devlin’s arm. He was vaguely aware of Aiden doing the same thing with Cillian, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man. “Don’t do this.” He raised his voice. “This is a mistake.”
“The mistake is yours, fuckers.”
The first bullet tore into the brick next to him, surreally loud. He dropped to the ground, dragging Devlin with him, cursing himself to hell and back for not getting them a damn cab. The shots kept going for what felt like an eternity, but was most likely a few seconds.
A second voice joined the first. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“I need to—” A footstep in their direction.
“Now.”
The door slammed and the SUV peeled out, flying down the street just as sirens cut through the night. Teague slowly pushed himself up. His ribs hurt like someone had dealt him a vicious blow to the chest, but nothing felt worse than bruises. “Aiden?”
“We’re good.”
“Thank Christ.”
A low groan brought his attention around to Devlin. He frowned. “You okay?”
Another groan, this one eerily wet sounding. It took his brain a second too long to process what he was hearing. He crawled to Devlin’s side, nearly falling over himself in his hurry. “Devlin?”
He lay on his back, his hands clutching his chest. Teague lifted one, finding it soaked with red. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Aiden!”
His oldest brother was there in a flash, covering Devlin’s hands with his own and pressing down. “9-1-1, Teague, now.”
His fingers, slick with blood, slid over the screen of his phone. Teague had to take a deep breath, wipe them off, and then dial. He gave their location and information to the operator and then tossed the phone to Cillian. “Keep talking.”
Teague dragged off his shirt. “Here, use this.”
They moved Devlin’s hands and put more pressure on the wound. In the streetlights, his eyes looked strange and glassy, like he wasn’t seeing them at all. His hands fluttered against Teague’s, the little spasms ripping his heart to shreds. “Hang on, just hang the fuck on. The ambulance is coming.”
“Cillian, tell them to hurry the fuck up!” Aiden’s hands joined Teague’s. “Devlin, it will be okay. It’s got to be okay.”
The fear and dread in his brother’s voice hit Teague almost as hard as the blood now trickling from the corner of Devlin’s mouth. He took one last wet gasping breath, and then lay still. “No. No, no, no, no, no.” He stopped clutching the now-soaked shirt and lifted his youngest brother’s head. “Stay with us. Goddamn it, Devlin. No!”
This couldn’t be happening.
It had to be a nightmare. In a second he’d wake up, shudder at his overactive imagination, and reassure himself that reality would never be so cruel.
Except he didn’t wake up.
Red and white lights flashed over Devlin’s still face, and then Teague was pulled away by men in white uniforms. He struggled, fighting off their hands. “Not me, not me. Help Devlin.”
A third man looked up from where he knelt, his fingers against Devlin’s neck. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do.”
Teague’s legs went out from under him, and he slumped to the ground. “Where were you? Why didn’t you get here quicker?”
One of the paramedics shook his head. “We got here in record time—” His partner stopped him with a hand on his arm.
Aiden dropped next to Teague. “I…”
“I know.” He couldn’t stop looking at Devlin, half expecting him to sit up. The sound of throwing up finally made him tear his gaze away, only to find Cillian puking in the street. That got him moving—anything to hold off reality for a little while longer. He knelt next to Cillian and put his hand on his back. “It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it’d never be okay again.
Tears streamed down Cillian’s face. “He’s gone. Goddamn it, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not Devlin.”