Page 29 of Dublin Charmer (Emerald Isle Mafia #5)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Finn
T he SUV fishtails as we take another turn.
Kieran’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel pretty much says it all.
Sheets of ice coat the windshield faster than the wipers can clear them.
Through the frozen glass, Dublin looks like an eerie sci-fi ghost town—streetlights reflecting off the slick roads in disturbing halos.
“Fucking weather,” Kieran mutters, downshifting. “Pick any other night to try and kill us. We’ve got somewhere to fucking be.”
I hit redial for the twentieth time. Nothing.
The storm’s wreaking havoc with the cell towers.
I twist to look back at Nyx. “Anything?”
She’s been tapping at the iPad screen endlessly. “I can’t get anything through. I’m sorry. Dammit!”
Gio reaches over and squeezes his sister’s shoulder. “How far out are we?”
“That depends if we can use the next fucking bridge,” Kieran snaps. “If we hit another detour, it’ll be twenty minutes.”
I close my eyes and try to breathe. “The good news is that if we’re having this much trouble crossing the river, so are Gravely and his men.”
“Unless they got over the bridge before the fucking wreck shut it down.”
Aye, there’s that.
I check the rearview. Sean’s headlights still track us, along with the other Devils, but we’re all moving at a crawl.
My phone crackles to life. “Finn…?” Bryan’s voice cuts through static.
“Bryan! Gravely’s coming. Lock down?—”
The call drops. “Fuck!”
“Do you think he heard you?” Nyx asks, reaching forward to grab my hand. “If he did, they won’t be caught completely off guard.”
The SUV slides sideways, and Kieran wrestles it back into our lane. Up ahead, the blue flashing lights of the police have us slowing down and an officer is using light batons to redirect us.
“Fucking hell!” A semi-truck lies jackknifed across the bridge. Sadly, there’s zero space to get by on either side. “We’re not getting through there.”
Kieran follows the path the officer is indicating, and we continue, driving parallel with the river. Behind us, Sean follows the same path, the other vehicles falling in line.
My phone buzzes. Text from Sean: Devils mobilized. 30+ heading to compound.
Some of the tension in my chest eases. The Devils are at least on the right side of the fucking river.
“Take the Port Tunnel.” Even as the words come out of my mouth, I know it’s our best chance.
The Dublin Port Tunnel is a major road tunnel that connects Dublin Port to the M50 motorway and the wider national road network.
It is a dedicated route for heavy goods vehicles and buses with more than twenty-five seats but let them try to fucking turn us back.
“You think?”
“Aye, do it. Ask forgiveness, not permission.”
I text Sean the plan, hoping our luck will hold out and he’ll get the message. The towers on this side of the river seem to be working. Sadly, the one that services the area of our family home is not.
I glance back and am happy to see Sean is still behind us and the other vehicles behind him. Then I text the family chat room and Bryan, Brendan, and Tag. Again.
Hopefully one of them will get the message in time.
Nyx
The SUV jerks and slides as we finally make it onto the compound grounds. My stomach drops at the sight of the smashed gate, twisted metal hanging from its hinges. Bodies litter the driveway. The eerie stillness sends ice through my veins worse than any storm.
“We’re too late,” Finn whispers, leaning toward the windshield trying to see up the laneway to the house. “Almost all of them are ours.”
Gio’s hand finds mine in the darkness. “Should we go?”
I meet his worried gaze and shake my head. “No. This is as much our fight as it is theirs. We’re taking Gravely down.”
Kieran slows the vehicle as we approach the main drive fork.
“Stop here,” Finn commands. When the SUV halts, he turns to Kieran. “Jump in Sean’s truck and join the main fight at the house.”
“What are ye plannin’, boss?” Kieran asks, already reaching for the door handle.
“I’m taking Gio and Nyx to the stables, not the house.”
Kieran’s face scrunches in confusion. “What the fuck for?”
“Because there’s a tunnel from the war room to the stables from when this was a working castle. There’s a safe room below. If my brothers got the message in time, that’s where the wives and family will be.”
“Slán leat,” Kieran says, before disappearing into the sleet.
Through the back window, I watch him sprint toward Sean’s approaching truck.
Finn rushes around the SUV and slides into the driver’s seat, hands already on the wheel before the door closes. “Hold on.”
The vehicle lurches forward, cutting across a snow-covered field rather than following the main drive. Headlights illuminate the way as we wrap around a frozen pond, past a gazebo, and end by parking in front of the large wooden structure.
“Nyx, ye’ve got Gio. Stay behind me and move fast.”
I check in with my little brother. “Are you good to walk?”
He shrugs. “I’ll manage. Just don’t get yourself killed. After all this, I’m looking forward to the two of us not being dead.”
I laugh. “ Si , me too.”
Finn gets out first and opens my door. The two of us run around to the passenger side of the truck and I help Gio get out and onto his feet while Finn searches the darkness, his gun raised and ready.
Inside, the barn is surprisingly warm. The sweet smell of hay and animals fills my senses. Several stalls line the walls, all of them empty except one.
“This way,” Finn whispers, leading us past a small pen where two tiny white lambs are curled in together with their mommy. It’s so sweet it seems jarringly out of place. They are sleeping peacefully, as if the storm outside and the reality of the moment doesn’t even register.
Oh, to be as innocent as that.
“Tag bought them for Laine as part of her babymoon gift,” Finn explains, noticing my gaze. “Said every queen needs her own lamb. It’s a long forgotten Irish tradition. She cried for an hour.”
The simplicity of the gesture hits me hard.
These people are the supposed criminals of society, but here they are, buying lambs for pregnant wives, sharing family meals, and everyone willing to die for one another.
They amaze me.
At the back of the stables, Finn approaches what looks like an ordinary wall. His fingers dance across a hidden panel, and a section of wooden paneling slides away, revealing a modern security interface.
He places his palm against it, then enters a code.
“Stand back,” he warns.
With a mechanical groan, the entire wall shifts, revealing a narrow stone passage.
“ Ay, dios ,” Gio breathes beside me.
“Castle keep,” Finn explains. “This whole compound was built around the original structure. The tunnel connects to the war room in the basement of the main house. Come on.”
I help Gio navigate the rough stone steps. He doesn’t seem to be injured more than some bruises, but he’s very weak and unsteady. With each downward step he winces and my fiery hatred for Billy Gravely burns a little hotter.
The man will die a painful and well-deserved death.
At the bottom of the stairs, the passage opens into a surprisingly modern room. Concrete walls are reinforced with steel, emergency lighting casting everything in a soft blue glow.
And there, sealed within the safety of the room, are Laine, Nora, and Harper.
“Finn!” Nora cries, relief washing over her face. She rushes over and hugs her soon to be brother-in-law and then turns to hug me. “Thank heavens you’re safe.”
Her hug is tight and it both shocks me and reminds me why this family is so special.
“It’s so good to see you guys.” Harper is next in the welcome line and when she eases back from her hug, she smiles at Gio. “And you must be Nyx’s brother. You guys look so much alike.”
Gio is pale. I don’t think the jog from the truck and the race down the stairs did him any favors. With one arm around his back, I turn him toward one of the two bunk beds and lower him onto the mattress. “Let’s get you laid down before you fall down, fratellino .”
When I straighten, the brief moment of relief is over. Something is wrong.
Laine is lying on the bottom bunk of the other bed, her face contorted in pain.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Is it the baby?”
Laine grimaces and lets out a long hiss.
Finn rushes forward, looking her over. “What happened?”
Just as the question leaves his lips, Laine lets out a guttural cry that raises the hair on my arms. Her hands clutch the frame of the bed and Nora and Harper rush back to kneel beside her.
“Short pants,” Nora says, checking her watch. “Okay, that was five minutes.”
Finn looks ill. “Five minutes? Yer in labor?”
Harper passes a cloth over Laine’s forehead and forces a smile. “Her water broke right after we got down here. Apparently extreme stress can put a woman into labor. Who knew?”
“Fucking hell.” Finn looks like he can’t decide which is worse, watching Laine give birth or joining the gunfight at the main house. “Does Tag know?”
Nora shakes her head. “No. He sent us down here and sealed the tunnel. Surprise!”
Surprise is right. I scan the shelves stocked with provisions lining the stone walls and doubt there is a birthing kit anywhere in there. So, we’re trapped in a medieval castle keep with a woman in labor, while a war rages on down the secured tunnel.
Laine cries out again, her voice echoing off the ancient stones.
I meet Finn’s panicked gaze and shrug. “Life with the Quinns is never boring.”