I grip the steering wheel, trying to center myself. The metallic scent of Marshallâs blood clings to my clothes. Marshallâs last gurgle echoes in my mind. Iâve dreamed of confronting one of the men who helped destroy my family. But not like this. Not with Lucy watching.
âFuck.â I slam my palm against the wheel. Iâve blown everything. My cover. The mission. Lucyâs trust.
Lucy sits rigid beside me, pressed against the passenger door. Her fear slices through my anger. Iâve become the monster I was trying to protect her from. The irony isnât lost on me.
âLucyâ¦â I start, but what can I possibly say? Sorry I lied about who I am? Sorry you had to watch me kill a man?
I chance another glance at Lucy. Her blue eyes, usually sparkling with curiosity and determination, now hold only fear and betrayal.
âI wonât hurt you,â I say, although I wouldnât blame her for doubting me. How can she believe that after what she just witnessed? After I dragged her into my car against her will?
âRight.â Her voice trembles. âJust like you wouldnât lie about being a cop?â
The guilt churns in my stomach. I grip the wheel tighter, taking a sharp turn down a side street. We need to get off the main roads before Marshallâs body is found. Before the Keans realize who I am and come looking.
âI didnât lie about being a cop.â
She purses her lips at me.
âYou assumedâ ââ
âYou let me believe that.â
I shrug. âEverything I did was to protect you. If Iâd told you who I really wasâ ââ
âIâd what? Run screaming? Report you to the police?â She lets out a bitter laugh. âThe police who are apparently in the Keansâ pocket? The one you justâ¦â She canât finish the sentence.
My jaw clenches. She doesnât understand, canât understand what itâs like to have your whole family ripped away by betrayal. To spend a decade planning revenge. But now sheâs caught in the crossfire, and itâs my fault. I dragged her into this mess because I couldnât stay away from her.
âThe Keans will come after you now,â I say quietly. âYou were seen with Marshall right before he died. Theyâll assume you know something.â
She wraps her arms around herself, shrinking further against the door. The distance between us feels like miles, though weâre inches apart. The urge to reach for her, to comfort her, is overwhelming. But Iâve lost that right.
I pull out my phone while keeping one eye on the road, dialing Phoenix. My stomach twists as it rings. My oldest brotherâs always been the level-headed one, the strategist. And Iâve just blown a decade of careful planning sky-high.
âWhat?â Phoenixâs voice cuts sharp through the speaker.
âI need a safehouse.â
âWhat happened?â
I donât say anything for a moment, wondering if I should lead with I was protecting Lucy. Instead, I say, âI killed Marshall.â
Silence stretches across the line. âJesus Christ, Flint. You had one job. Infiltrate. Observe. Learn how to get to these guys andâ ââ
âHe recognized me.â I glance at Lucy, who flinches at the movement. It guts me. âHe was threatening to kill Lucy. She was there when it happened.â
Phoenixâs voice drops dangerously low. âThe journalist?â
âI didnât have a choice.â The more I replay it, the more I know itâs true. Had Marshall not recognized me, I could have rescued Lucy and weâd have gone our own way. But his threatening her life and recognizing me changed everything. âLike I said, he recognized me. Heâd have told Hampton and Ronan.â
âYou always have a choice. Now youâve compromised everything.â Phoenixâs frustration reverberates through the phone. âTen years of work blown because you couldnât keep it in your pants.â
My grip tightens on the phone. âJust give me the address.â
Thereâs another long pause and then he rattles off an address. The call ends abruptly, leaving me alone with my failure and a terrified woman who hates me. Some protector I turned out to be.
Lucy fumbles for her phone, her hands shaking. âIâm calling the police.â
Fucking hell? It takes all my strength to resist the urge to grab her phone and toss it out the window. But I donât want to scare her more than she already is. Then again, if sheâs feeling brave enough to call the cops, she canât be that afraid of me.
âAnd tell them what? That you were questioning a corrupt cop about his ties to organized crime before he was killed? When you tell them Flint Ifrinn committed the murder, will you include how youâd been sleeping with him?â Fuck, Iâm being an ass again. âHe threatened you, Lucy. I was protecting you.â
âYou didnât kill the other men who threatened me. No, you murdered him for your own sick reasons.â
âSick?â I nearly choke on the word. âMarshall worked for us. Then he sold us out. You heard him. He admitted to being a part of my parentsâ murder.â
âSo you killed him.â Her voice cracks.
âHe deserved worse.â I shake my head. âYou canât call the police, Lucy. The moment you do, youâre dead.â
She gasps, and only then do I realize she thinks Iâm threatening her. âMarshall isnât the only one on the force in Keanâs pocket. Theyâll find you, and theyâll make you disappear. Youâve researched enough to know they can make it happen and get away with it.â
âLike the Ifrinn brothers disappeared?â Her eyes narrow. âExcept you didnât disappear, did you? Youâve been planning this.â
âFor ten years.â I meet her gaze briefly before turning back to the road. âThey took everything from us. Now they pay.â
We arrive at the safehouse, a tired looking bungalow in a blue-collar neighborhood outside the city.
I pull into the driveway and park, turning to her. âIâm sorry.â I force my voice to be softer, gentler. âI donât mean to scare you. I just need you to understand why we canât go to the police. Why you have to trust me, even if you hate me right now.â
I usher Lucy into the house, scanning the shadows before locking the door behind us. The space is sparse, but itâll keep her alive.
âYou canât keep me here.â Lucy whirls on me, eyes blazing. Even terrified, sheâs got more fire than sense.
âActually, I can.â I check the windows, then make sure the curtains are closed. âUnless youâve got a death wish.â
âWhat I have is a story to write.â She jabs a finger at my chest. âPeople deserve to know the truth about the Keans. About Marshall. About you.â
I catch her wrist. âThe truth gets people killed.â
âSo does silence!â She yanks free. âHow many others have the Keans murdered while everyone looked the other way? How many more Marshalls are out there, covering up their crimes?â
âLucyââ
âNo.â She cuts me off. âYou donât get to âLucyâ me. Not after lying to my face for weeks. Not afterâ¦â Her voice cracks. âI trusted you.â
The guilt hits like a sucker punch. âI know. And Iâm sorry. But right now, staying alive is more important than your story.â
âSays the man who just murdered someone.â
âTo protect you!â
âI didnât ask for your protection!â Sheâs trembling now, but whether from fear or rage, I canât tell. âI didnât ask for any of this.â
âWell, youâve got it anyway.â I rake a hand through my hair. âSo here are the rules. No phones. No internet. No contact with the outside world. You donât leave without me, and you sure as hell donât try running to the cops.â
âOr what? Youâll kill me too?â
The accusation stings worse than I expected. âIâm trying to keep you alive, damn it. Why canât you understand that?â
âBecause I donât know who you are anymore.â Her voice drops to a whisper. âIâm not sure I ever did. You think youâre a hero, but youâre not. Youâre just like them.â
Anger powers me. I pull the list sheâd created with the victims of the fire from my pocket. âSee this?â I jab at the top names. âThat was my mother. When we were kids, sheâd sing us to sleep, rock us when we were sick. This is my father. He taught us to play football.â
Her brow furrows as if she doesnât understand what Iâm saying.
âThis is Megan, who shouldnât have been there that night, but Ash snuck her in because he loved her and wanted to marry her. Ash has never recovered from her death.â
Lucyâs face softens. Am I getting through?
âMrs. Cramer was our cook. She taught me to make kickass pancakes, which you would have known about if you hadnât run off the other night.â
The memories flood back from that night. âSarah Klein. The housekeeper. She was planning her daughterâs wedding. Had the dress picked out and everything. Used to let me and my brothers sneak candy.â I look up at Lucy, meeting her eyes. âThese werenât characters in some story youâre chasing. They were real people. People who laughed and loved and lived. People who deserve justice, not to be forgotten in some police cover-up while the men responsible built their empire on their ashes. Not treated with disdain or disrespect⦠like they deserved to die.â
She swallows, and I wonder if Iâm getting through. Surely, she can understand the pain and anger even if she wouldnât go as far as me and my brothers would.
The paper crumples slightly in my grip. âSo yes, I killed Marshall. Because I remember how he used to ruffle my hair and call me âsportâ, and then he turned around and arranged my familyâs murder.â
âAnd that justifiesâ ââ
âAnd what about you?â I snarl, the pain of her rejection twisting into something uglier. âDonât act all innocent with me. Your only interest in me was for your precious story.â
âAt least I was honest about what I wanted,â Lucy snaps back. âI never hid who I was or what I was after. You knew from the moment we met that I was investigating the Keans.â
My jaw clenches. âAnd you donât care who gets hurt in the process, do you? Just another ambitious reporter chasing her big break.â
âDonât you dare.â Her eyes flash. âI wanted justice. I wanted the truth. Which is more than I can say for you. I trusted you,â she whispers. âAnd the whole time, you were lying to my face.â
âYou want to talk about trust?â I slam my palm against the wall beside her head, making her jump. âHow many times have I told you not to do stupid things like follow Kean men into an alley? Not to reveal who you are? You canât help yourself. If I wasnât there to protect youâ ââ
âI never asked for your protectionâ ââ
âThe only reason youâre alive right now is because of my protection.â I jerk away, anger and frustration coursing madly through me. I take a breath and turn to face her. âIf I didnât follow you to the alley that night, youâd have been raped and killed and disappeared off the face of the earth. And Iâd still be Flynn Tine, an Ifrinn hiding in plain sight, learning about the Kean operation, and my brothers wouldnât be pissed at me. Is that what I should have done? Let you be killed? It sure would have saved me this hassle.â
Her jaw ticks because she knows she canât deny any of that. Sheâd be dead without me.
I take another calming breath and step toward her, ignoring how she tenses as I do. âIâd do it again in a heartbeat. Iâll protect youâ ââ
âDonât pretend you careâ ââ
âBut I do care!â The words explode out of me, wanting to make her understand. âFucking hell, Lucy, I canât hardly breathe each time youâre around Keanâs men.â
âYou just want my research.â
I throw my hands up. âNo, I donât. I never did. That was you, sweetheart. Youâre the one who insisted on working with usâ ââ
âI thought you were law enforcement.â
âIt doesnât change that working together was your idea. And I went along not because I wanted what you knew. I went along because I knew youâd do stupid shit that would get you killed. Because I wanted to be around youââ I cut myself off.
âThatâs not fair.â Her voice cracks. âYou donât get to say things like that. Not now.â
âYou think I wanted this? You think I planned on caring about someone when Iâm trying to bring down the most dangerous family in Boston?â
âStop it.â She wraps her arms around herself.
âNo, you wanted honesty?â I step closer. âHere it is. Iâm terrified. Not of the Keans, not of dying. Iâm terrified of losing you. And now youâre looking at me like Iâm a monster, and maybe I am, but I canâtâ¦â The vulnerability hits too hard. I retreat, walls slamming back up. âBut none of that matters now, does it? Because all you see is your story.â
âIâm not the bad guy here.â
I laugh derisively. âReally? I wonder, how many times have you thought about your headline since learning the Ifrinns arenât gone? You just got the biggest story of your life, Lucy.â
Her blue gaze holds mine, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. Iâm not wrong. She knows that her story about the Keansâ corrupt rise in business is now one that will put her in the spotlight. Itâs the biggest story in Boston in years.
It fucking hurt to see the fear and loathing in her eyes toward me since learning who I was, but this, having her view me as a ticket to a Pulitzer instead of a man who cares for her, it guts me.
Iâve been wasting my breath. Itâs time to move on.
âYouâre staying here.â My voice comes out rough, final. âNot forever, but until we deal with the Keans.â
Lucyâs head snaps up, those blue eyes blazing. âYou canât justâ ââ
âI can and I will.â Steel enters my tone. The same steel thatâs kept my brothers and me alive for ten years. âBut you wonât have to see me again. Iâll have Ash bring you food, clothes, whatever you need. But youâre not leaving this house until itâs safe.â
âAnd when will that be?â Her voice cracks. âWhen youâve killed everyone who knows what happened?â
The accusation burns, but I force myself to stay steady. âWhen the people responsible for murdering my family canât hurt anyone else. Including you.â
âI donât want your protection.â She spits the words like venom.
âTough. Because youâve got it whether you want it or not. I wonât lose someone else I care about to the Keans.â I hold my hand out. âGive me your phone.â
âNo.â
âIâll have Ash bring you a new one. This one isnât safe. The Keans will find you.â
For a moment, I think sheâs going to continue to resist, but finally, she hands me her phone. I pocket it with plans to dump it on my way back to the city. I head to the door, pausing at the threshold. I resist looking back at her because I know if I do, my resolve might break.
âEverything you need will be provided. Just⦠stay alive. Please.â
I slam the door behind me, but Lucyâs wounded expression follows me out into the night. My chest feels like itâs being crushed in a vise. Every step away from her physically hurts. Is this how Ash feels all the time? No wonder heâs against love.
âDamn it!â The shout echoes in the car as I drive back to Boston. Maybe I should have told her sooner, should have trusted her with the truth before Marshall exposed it. Maybe then she wouldnât think everything between us was a lie.
But I couldnât risk it, couldnât risk her getting caught in the crossfire like Ashâs girl, Megan, did. Like everyone else we loved.
The memory of her in my arms twists the knife deeper. The way sheâd smiled at me, trusted me, let me in. And now sheâs my prisoner, locked away for her own protection.
As I arrive at Phoenixâs place, I work to get Lucy out of my system. I need all my strength to deal with my brothers whoâll no doubt be pissed at me. As I enter his apartment, the tension is palpable.
âWhat the hell were you thinking?â Phoenixâs voice cuts through the silence. âKilling Marshall in the open? With a witness?â
âHe recognized me.â I slam the door behind me. âWhat was I supposed to do?â
âNot murder him in front of your girlfriend!â Blaise pushes off the wall he was leaning against. âTen years weâve stayed hidden. Ten years of careful planning, and you blow it all for pussy?â
I grab Blaise and shove him back against the wall. âShut the fuck up.â
âHey!â Phoenix pulls me back and gets in my face. âWe had one shot at this. One chance to make the Keans pay for what they did. Now Marshallâs dead, and theyâll be on high alert.â
âAt least we know he was part of it,â I growl.
âWe already suspected that!â Phoenix says with exasperation.
Ashâs quiet voice cuts through the argument. âHow many times did you dream about killing him, Phoenix?â
The question hits home. The rage drains from Phoenixâs face. âIâve dreamt about killing them all.â
âWe all wanted him dead,â Ash continues. âThe difference is, Flint had the chance and took it.â
âI had to before he told anyone I was alive.â I sink into a chair, the weight of my actions making it difficult to stay upright. âHe wouldâve warned the Keans. Weâd have lost any advantage we had.â
Phoenixâs eyes drill into me. âYou donât think his death will raise questions?â
âAbout us? No. Ifrinns canât be the only ones who want Marshall dead. Chances are people will think itâs a mugging.â
âStill, the Keans will circle the wagons. Theyâll be on guard,â Blaise says.
Heâs right. Iâve kicked the hornetâs nest, and thereâs no telling how far the fallout will spread. Will Lucy ever be safe?
âWhat about the girl?â Blaise asks. âSheâs a liability.â
âShe stays where she is,â I growl. âUntil this is over.â
Phoenixâs expression darkens. âAnd if she talks?â
âShe wonât.â The words come out more confident than I feel. âShe knows whatâs at stake now.â
âSheâs a reporter, Flint.â Blaise shakes his head at me. âAnd sheâs sitting on the story of a lifetime.â
Heâs not wrong.
âWhat do you suggest?â Ash asks, and for a moment, I want to kick his ass for even asking the question. âBecause killing her is out of the question.â
Okay, so maybe heâs not so bad.
âWho said anything about killing?â Phoenix asks.
âLiabilities are usuallyâ ââ
âShe wonât talk.â I stare at each brother in turn.
âI hope she cares about you as much as you care about her,â Phoenix says. âBecause that would be the only reason sheâd sit on this story.â
She doesnât give a shit about me. Certainly not more than the story. I feel like Iâm being ripped in two. I love my brothers. Iâm all in on our plan of vengeance for our parentsâ deaths. I canât let anything get in the way of that.
But Lucy⦠sheâs now a part of my soul. How can I protect all my brothers and I have worked for from her? How can I protect her from them?