13. Cillian

Lorcánand I aren't close.

For reasons that aren't his fault but circumstances that neither of us can control. Regardless, this is an absolute fuck up.

Declan drives me to the meeting spot without uttering a word. It's not a surprise. The Beta is closer to my half-brother than I'll ever be.

He sighs, and I glare at the side of his head.

"You have something to say?"

"You know he's desperately in love with her?" he questions. He doesn't add any additional snark about Elena, and I wonder if it's because he's had his own glimpse of who she is as a person.

"It doesn't matter. He made her have a fucking panic attack."

Declan's eyebrows furrow as he continues driving without any other attempts at defending the dumb-ass.

Lorcán is already waiting in the parking lot, obviously doing his best to make sure none of the Italians are tailing him.

"Cillian," he greets.

I smile at him before cocking back my fist and hitting him in the jaw. Finn is the fighter out of the two of us, but this motherfucker has me heated.

He doesn't hit me back. He just rubs his jaw and blinks at me.

"She's fucking spiraling over that fucking package you sent."

He smirks and shakes his head. I grab the lapel of his jacket and tug him in close. He doesn't back down. He never has when it comes to me or Finn.

"Good," he replies.

"Good?"

"How much longer do you want her there? If she thinks it's Anthony, she'll all but run into your arms, begging you to keep her safe. She called you right after she got it, didn't she?" he asks.

I tug on his suit jacket one more time before releasing him with a harsh shove.

"You could have told someone this fucking plan, Lorcán."

"Ah, yes. Because you and Finn are so fucking receptive to any input I have when it comes to Elena. Not to mention, you two don't answer my phone calls half the time. You might be getting to know her now, Cillian. But don't forget who's spent the last few years at her side. Don't forget that I know her better than you do."

He's pissing me off, and I want to hit him where it hurts.

"Is that true, brother? Do you know the little noises she makes when her pussy is wrapped around your knot?" I don't mention how I'm her scent match, and he isn't. I think that might be cutting too fucking deep for the pathetic bastard.

His eyes grow dark, looking thunderous, but he doesn't reply.

We both know he didn't do anything sexual with her. His orders were clear: make sure our asset was safe. He clearly did a bang-up fucking job of it.

"The whole reason she's in this mess is because you weren't keeping track of her."

"Is it Cillian? I was the one who told you where she might be, and you're the one who decided to play your fucking little emotional game. She could have been at the house nearly two weeks ago, and I'd finally be fucking free from working for the Amantes. You think you're better than me because you're a legitimate son, but tell me, what the fuck have you sacrificed for this family?"

He shouts the last bit at me, and Declan whistles, cutting off my response.

"Shite, we got company."

Suddenly, a cascade of bullets hits the surrounding cars. All three of us quickly take cover and draw our own weapons.

Lorcán and I are behind one vehicle while Declan is blocked by another. The bullets are coming too quickly for us to see who is shooting at us.

"Fuck," Lorcán growls next to me.

He leans forward as tires screech, some bullets shattering the driver's window and mirror of the car we're using as a shield.

"Shit, that was the Amantes," Lorcán curses as his phone vibrates in his pocket. "Logan," he replies, all traces of his accent gone.

"Unfortunate. I thought there would be one less rat scurrying around the Las Vegas Strip. There's a bounty on your head, you traitorous fuck. Give the phone to Seamus' son," he demands.

Lorcán looks at me, so Anthony knows he's working with the O'Briens, but how much does the prick really know?

"Anthony, this is no way to greet your future in-law," I tell him sarcastically.

"Where is she?"

"That's what I'd like to know. You promised my family a sweet little Omega, yet one hasn't been delivered to my doorstep in a pretty red bow. I'm highly disappointed, and so is my father."

"Elena isn't smart enough to hide for this long. It's clear she's had help. It's interesting that her bodyguard, who's been pining over her for years, would suddenly want to nuzzle up with Irish trash."

"The family reunions are going to be awkward if you keep up with that type of language, sir," I reply, feeling bored with this conversation.

"Tell your father the deal's off."

"No shit," I reply, hanging up the phone and handing it to Lorcán. "Well, it looks like you got your fucking wish. You're not working for the Amantes anymore. Maeve already has your room ready."

Lorcán dramatically hits his head against the back of the vehicle and sighs.

"It wasn't supposed to be this complicated."

"Aye. Well, maybe if your boss hadn't had a fucking heart attack or made good on the contract when he was supposed to, we wouldn't have been in this shite storm," Declan says, dusting himself off. He bitches about how dirty his clothes are, and I roll my eyes.

He's wearing fucking jeans and a black t-shirt. I wish I could get him to dress like a more civilized person.

"Call Finn. The house is on lockdown. Let Maeve know to expect Elena tomorrow night."

"Aye, ‘cause I'm your fucking secretary? Call him yourself. And as for my Ma', she's least likely to fucking listen to me, so call her too," Declan denies, not following orders and taking the driver's seat.

Lorcán abandons his vehicle in the parking lot as we drive home to figure out our next steps.

As soon as we arrive at the house, it's noticeable that everything has gone to complete shit. Rory's hand is bleeding out onto the dining room table as Maeve tries to stop the bleeding.

"Sit fucking still," she orders him, and he just bites down on his lip.

"What fucking happened?" Declan asks Finn.

I know my brother better than anyone, and while to an outsider, he might seem composed or holding it together, I can tell he's on the verge of snapping.

He points a finger at me but stops himself from speaking as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I knew this deal was going to be a mistake. Especially your little plan to have your cake and eat it, too. Anthony Amante's man shot Rory's fucking finger off and sent him home with a message."

Rory is doing his best not to scream while Maeve works on him.

"He wants his sister back, and the deal's off," Rory spits out through clenched teeth.

"Just what we fucking needed. Go to that fucking club, get the girl, and end this," Finn barks.

"Fuck no," I growl at the same time as Lorcán.

"He'll give her to the Novikovs. You've heard how they treat their women," Lorcán argues.

"That's not our concern. We're too new on the West Coast. We can't afford this type of fuck up or issue with another family," Finn seethes.

"Didn't take you for a pussy, boss," Declan sneers, my brother's gaze snapping to him.

Any other man would falter under his stare, but Declan doesn't.

"Do you have something to say, Declan?" Finn asks, approaching the Beta until Finn's in his face.

"Even if you give him Elena back, he won't agree to a ceasefire. Anthony isn't like his father. He isn't reasonable. Elena running off is an embarrassment to his family. He'll serve her the worst fate you could imagine and want to make an example of our family. He wants Vegas for himself. I don't even know if we could have ever truly had peace. I think he just wanted Elena off his hands," Lorcán throws out.

Finn stares down at Declan before turning to face our half-brother.

"So you're saying no matter what we fucking do, we're going to be at war with the Amantes?"

"No matter what we do," Lorcán confirms.

Finn looks at all of us and then at Rory's bleeding hand. I wonder if he's going to call our father, but I doubt it. As much as our old man can be a micromanager, as of late, he's really been loosening the reins. He even started spending more time in Ireland than he does here.

He wants us to prepare for taking over the empire, and part of that means making decisions without seeking Daddy's approval.

Finn clicks his tongue.

"Then let's send our own message. Dec, do you still have that contact at the morgue?"

"Aye."

"Call them, and let's go," he snaps before looking at Maeve. "Will he be alright?"

"Yes, but I'm not cleaning up all this blood," Maeve snarks back.

Finn looks to Declan, who shrugs. He knows there's no controlling his ma'.

When we get to the garage, Cian, Tadhg, and Cormac are waiting in two separate SUVs. We split up, Declan and Lorcán taking one car while Finn and I take the other. With the four-car caravan in place, we make our way to the morgue.

He rubs his scarred jaw the entire ride.

I refuse to fucking apologize for how everything went down. No matter how we went about the Elena situation, Anthony was likely planning on attacking and not fulfilling his end of the contract.

The contract had been in place for nearly four years, set up between Elena's father and my own. No one could have expected the man to die as early as he did. The plan was to wait ‘til Elena was ready and then make it more natural. Matteo would give Lorcán permission to pursue her, and then he would introduce her to us. Matteo may have been a lot of things, but he clearly knew his daughter well enough to know she would need to find a pack on her own terms.

"What are you going to do?" I ask Finn, who is radiating pissed off energy. I wouldn't be surprised if I found him beaten to shit tomorrow morning from participating in an underground fight.

"Sending him a piece of his sister to send a message."

I know he's obviously not sending any part of the real Elena to Anthony because we're headed to the morgue. Plus, my brother may be a lot of things, but hurting an innocent Omega isn't something that he's capable of.

"Don't you think that might make things worse?"

He spins to look at me, his gaze filled with frustration and anger.

"How can things get worse? I'm being forced to bond with an Omega I don't want—that my two brothers seem fucking hopeless for—who's my fucking scent match. I have an angry Italian shooting at my men, making demands. And worst of all? I had absolutely nothing to fucking do with it. I told Da' it was a bad idea to get involved with the other families, that we should have just stayed in our lane, but no. Now, here we are. Rory's missing a fucking finger. The Omega is working at a sex club, and we're on our way to the fucking morgue."

I let Finn finish his dramatic monologue, leaving him in silence to calm down a little before I finally speak.

"You don't have to bond with her to be pack, and you know this. Don't act like you're completely indifferent. We both know that's a lie, brother. Not even you are strong enough to deny your scent match."

He says nothing as we continue our drive.

Suddenly, the SUV that Cian was driving explodes in front of us. The boom is loud, and the blowback from the explosion rattles the car around us. Tadgh pulls over, all of us exiting the vehicle and watching as it burns, knowing it signifies the start of a war.

Not only did Rory lose a finger, but Anthony just killed a good man. Cian only just turned twenty-five. He didn't deserve this.

We're looking around the freeway when a loud pop hits my ears, and pain radiates through my thigh.

Finn helps me to the ground as I watch blood drench my pant leg.

"Motherfucker," Finn hisses, taking off his belt to use as a tourniquet.

"I think it hit the side, nothing major," I grit through my teeth.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

The rest is a blur of activity—sirens and bright lights—until my eyes shut, and there's nothing but dreams of blonde hair, blue eyes, and the scent of vanilla frosting.