It was difficult to concentrate on the discussion going on around her. How could she, when Bailey’s mind was still spinning from her argument with Sean last night? Still reeling from the knowledge that he
loved
her.
Leave it to Sean to drop the L-word in angry passing, as if his feelings were a given. As if the fact that he loved her was no big thing. As if she’d
known
.
But she hadn’t. Sure, she’d assumed he cared about her, at least in a professional capacity. And fine, a sexual one. But finding out his emotions ran so much deeper had come as a shock.
We were never going to have a future, were we, Bailey?
His sorrowful words continued to float through her head, along with the accusations he’d hurled her way. His claim that she was afraid to let him in, that she was a control freak who likened him to her father and Daniels. But she
saw
the similarities, damn it. The barely checked temper, the way he always had to remind her that she
belonged
to him.
He’s not like them, you fool.
Bailey’s throat clamped shut as the absurdity of that
sank in. Of course Sean wasn’t like them. He wasn’t cruel like her father, or vindictive like Isaac.
So what was she so damn afraid of?
And why was she so angry? Butler’s torture hadn’t been necessary, but Sean had still saved her from getting raped last night. What if Liam or Sully or any of the others had been the ones to come to her rescue? Would she have resented them too?
The thought gave her pause, and she bit her lip when she realized the answer was
yes
. She hated relying on anyone but herself. And that’s who she was
really
angry with—herself. For letting Cillian Kelly gain the upper hand. For not finding a way to save her own skin.
“Jesus. Is the dude vying for the title of terrorist of the month or something?”
Liam’s sarcastic remark jolted her out of her muddled thoughts.
Sean had just told the group about Cillian Kelly’s latest brainchild, which the Dagger members had discussed at length the night before. Kelly’s ambitious new plan was to drive a truck full of explosives into a government building splat in the middle of Dublin—tomorrow. On
Monday
morning, when the place would be crawling with civilians, inside and out.
Bailey hadn’t been surprised to hear it. Kelly was a bona fide psycho—of course he’d want to follow up the Trinity car bombing with something even more destructive.
“And you said yes?” Ash spoke up, his normally relaxed face hard with disapproval.
“Don’t worry,” Sean assured him. “Rabbit has no intention of letting it happen.”
“But he agreed to it too. You just said so.”
“Yes, but only to shut Kelly up. Nobody’s going to get
hurt tomorrow, Rookie. There won’t
be
a tomorrow, not for Kelly and Flannery.”
From his perch against the wall, D narrowed his eyes. “What’s the plan? We taking Flannery out tonight?”
“No.” Sean paused. “Rabbit’s gonna do that for us.”
Bailey’s head turned toward him in surprise. “He is? How?” Worry flashed through her. “Shit. Does that mean you told him the truth, then? About Flannery coercing you to take Rabbit down? And that Cillian’s working for Flannery?”
“Yes. Well, everything except the Cillian part.”
Sullivan frowned. “You didn’t out Kelly as the mole?”
“Nope,” Sean said lightly.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because Rabbit would have gutted him. And I want to save that honor for myself.”
Sean’s ominous tone made her shiver. There he went again, displaying the ruthless streak that never failed to put Bailey on edge.
Except he wasn’t the only one. The other men were nodding in approval, their eyes reflecting that same deadly gleam. Violent men surrounded her, and guilt pricked her skin as she realized that she didn’t judge the others for it as harshly as she judged Sean.
Was she . . . damn it, was she
looking
for excuses to push him away? It sure as hell was starting to seem like it.
“I’m saving Kelly for later,” Sean said with a shrug. “Tonight is all about Flannery. I set up a meeting between Flannery and Rabbit. It’ll take place tonight—midnight—in one of Rabbit’s warehouses near the port.”
“Flannery agreed to this?” Liam said warily.
Sean nodded. “I told him Rabbit wants to strike a deal.”
“And he fuckin’ believed that?”
“Yup.”
Isabel wrinkled her forehead. “O’Hare is actually going to show up? He does realize there’s a good chance Flannery will take him out, right?”
“Yup. But Rabbit isn’t too concerned about that.” Sean paused. “Which is the other reason Flannery was so eager to agree to the meeting, actually. I told him Rabbit is dying.”
Bailey glanced over in alarm again. This was the first she’d heard of it. “Is that true?”
“Rabbit told me yesterday when we met at the docks. He’s got lung cancer.” Sean’s voice grew surprisingly pained. “Doctors gave him three months to live.”
At the kitchenette, Sullivan nodded as if it all made perfect sense. “Ah. He’s kicking it anyway, so he might as well take his enemy down with him. Gotta respect that.”
“Rabbit asked me to tell Flannery that he’s ready to deal. To hand over his organization in exchange for a few demands—money for his men, their necks are off-limits, et cetera, et cetera.” Sean let out a tired-sounding breath. “But neither one of them will be walking out of the warehouse alive tonight.”
“How does O’Hare plan on doing it?” D said brusquely.
Bailey didn’t miss the look Sean exchanged with Oliver, who was leaning against the bathroom doorway. Something passed between the twins, almost like they were having an entire conversation in their minds, and then Sean broke eye contact and turned to shrug at D.
“Rabbit’s got it covered.” He paused again. “I’ll be the one driving him to the meeting.”
Bailey’s pulse kicked up. “Wait, why? Why do you have to be the one to take him?”
“Because he asked me to. And because Flannery wants me there.” When he saw the concern on her face,
his tone softened. “I won’t be there for the end, Bailey. Once I get the ball rolling and get them talking, I’m gone.”
“Fine.” She set her jaw. “Then I’m going with you.”
“And we’ll set up a perimeter,” Liam said immediately. “We’ll keep an eye on the warehouse when you—”
“No,” Sean cut in. “No backup. That was one of Flannery’s stipulations. He wants me and Rabbit to come alone, and he’ll have men posted in the area to make sure we keep our word.”
“But Flannery won’t care if
I’m
there,” Bailey pointed out. “He already knows we’re a package deal.”
Reluctance creased his forehead.
“I’m coming,” she said firmly. “Even if I have to stay in the car and wait outside for you. It won’t screw anything up, Sean. Neither one of them considers me a threat.” She swallowed. “And I’d feel better knowing you have
some
backup.”
Sean rubbed his chin, looking unhappy as he thought it over, but to her surprise, he didn’t shoot her down. “All right. I’d feel better, too, if you were there.”
He
would
?
Since when?
she nearly blurted out.
“I’ll give Rabbit and Flannery a heads-up, though,” he said absently. “I can’t spring any surprises on them.”
The conversation continued, but Bailey was too preoccupied to focus on what the others were saying. She was still floored that Sean had willingly accepted her assistance, not to mention amazed at the very solid plan he’d formulated on his own. Involving Rabbit had been a risky move, but she couldn’t deny it had paid off.
Sean had orchestrated a scenario that Bailey couldn’t help but be impressed with. After all the years of hatred and violence that had fueled the flames of their blood
feud, Eamon O’Hare and Ronan Flannery would finally be putting the fire out. Just the two of them.
Bailey couldn’t think of anything more fitting than that.
* * *
Midnight didn’t come soon enough for Sean. He drove into the east-end parking lot where he and Rabbit had arranged to meet, then gave a sidelong glance at Bailey, who sat in the passenger seat staring straight ahead.
They’d barely spoken all day. She’d spent most of her time chatting with Isabel or Liam, or on the phone with the director of her mother’s nursing home, or on her laptop—pretty much doing everything but talk to
him
.
He could tell something was on her mind. Hell, he bet he knew what it was. She was preparing herself to end it. To kick him to the curb and disappear again, the way she always did after they crossed paths. The thought of letting her go tore at his insides, but he’d reached a depressing conclusion last night—he couldn’t keep chasing her. If the two of them were ever going to have a future, she had to come to
him
. Freely, openly. She needed to deal with the messed-up issues that had skewed her opinion about him—no, about
men
—and take that first step.
“Are we sure Cillian won’t show up and ruin everything?” Bailey asked as he put the car in park.
“Quinn promised to keep him busy,” Sean answered.
“How?”
He sighed. “Private party. Kelly’s probably balls deep in a prostie right now.”
She made a face. “God. I hate that guy so much.”
“Join the club.”
Sean’s gaze shifted to the petrol station where Rabbit had asked to get picked up. The front window was lit up, but there was nobody inside but the clerk. The pump
area was also deserted, but Sean could sense Rabbit’s presence. As if on cue, the man stepped out of the shadows at the side of the small brick storefront, emerging from the darkness and making his way toward the waiting car.
Rabbit slid into the backseat, reaching up to squeeze Bailey’s shoulder. “Evening, luv. Reilly.”
“Eamon.” The sorrow in his voice astounded him. Not too long ago, this man had abducted his brother, and now they were sitting in the same car, and Sean was experiencing a genuine sense of loss at what Rabbit was about to do.
“Don’t look so glum, both of you,” Rabbit said gruffly. “This is a joyful occasion, remember?”
Sean met the man’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Yeah? How’s that?”
“Because Ronan Flannery is about to die.” Rabbit ran a hand through his beard. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this day, lad.” He ruefully glanced at his attire—jeans and a plaid shirt. “I shoulda rented a tux.”
Sean grinned. “And tip off the enemy? You know better than that.”
“Of course I do. Does it
look
like I’m wearing a fecking penguin suit?”
Bailey twisted around in her seat. “I bet you’d look handsome in a tuxedo.”
“Ya?” Rabbit paused thoughtfully. “How ’bout you bury me in one, then?”
Just like that, the mood went solemn again.
With a sigh, Sean moved the gearshift and pulled out of the lot. The drive to the warehouse was a quiet one. Rabbit seemed preoccupied, his brown eyes fixed out the window, watching the city whiz by them. Sean slowed
the car as they neared the industrial area behind the port. There was a full moon out, its silvery glow casting shadows on the rows of warehouses and the chain-link fences blocking off the structures.
Sean remembered visiting this particular warehouse when he was a boy. It housed the electronics imported by one of Rabbit’s businesses, the merch arriving at the port, unloaded at this warehouse, and then distributed to stores around the country. The goods were hot, of course, and all the profits went to the laundry man, who cleaned them up nice and gave Rabbit a semblance of legitimacy.
“Flannery’s already here,” he said grimly.
An armored SUV was parked thirty yards from the steel doors at the warehouse’s entrance, where two guards were already posted. Sean didn’t need his humming instincts to tell him there were more thugs posted around the perimeter. He spotted several of them, and he was suddenly relieved that Morgan’s men hadn’t pushed the issue when he’d said no backup. If Flannery caught even a whiff of trickery, he’d be outta there faster than a bat outta hell.
Sean stopped the car farther out, near the fence separating the lot from the road. He parked but didn’t kill the engine. “Leave it running,” he told Bailey. “I won’t be long.”
Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but then her mouth closed—and landed on his.
The kiss startled him. He hadn’t expected her to lean in like that, to show affection after the way she’d shut him out since last night.
“Be careful,” she whispered against his lips.
“I will,” he said roughly, then glanced over at Rabbit. “Ready?”
The man nodded.
Sean brushed his lips over Bailey’s again, stroking her soft cheek as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll be right back.”
He and Rabbit got out of the car, pausing only long enough for Sean to surreptitiously slide a cell phone into Rabbit’s hand.
“Speed dial one,” he murmured, keeping his eye on the two men fifty yards away. He didn’t think they’d seen the phone exchange hands, but he watched them carefully as he and Rabbit crossed the parking lot.
The guards stiffened at their approach, silenced pistols sliding upward to train on either man.
Sean offered a cool look. “Your boss inside?”
One of the men responded with a terse nod.
“Gonna have to pat you down,” the other one informed them.
Sean and Rabbit were patted down. Neither of them was armed—another one of Flannery’s stipulations—and Sean breathed in slow relief as the thugs cleared them for entry. Without confiscating their cell phones.
The interior of the warehouse consisted of one cavernous room with aisles of metal racks piled high with cardboard boxes full of DVD players, Blu-rays, flat-screens—whatever stolen goods Rabbit and his crew could get their hands on. The outer edges of the room were bathed in darkness, but the center was lit up, a dangling light fixture shining down on Ronan Flannery like a spotlight.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised you showed.”
Flannery’s voice reverberated in the enormous space, bouncing off the gray cinder-block walls and cement floor.