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FINN

A fter twenty minutes of searching this side of the city for that damn car, I park near a strip of row houses and wait for Ronan. I'm so enraged I'm not thinking clearly. That SUV wasn't the only close call I had. Two times, I ran a red light and was almost T-boned in an intersection, so when Ro told me to "park my ass and wait for him", I knew he was right.

I sit with my car idling, staring up the street into Doyle territory. The way they snatched her and ran so fast completely took me by surprise. I never saw it coming. I don't think anyone did, though now that Mick is safe, Ronan's focus will be on him and building the alliance stronger than ever. I doubt he even cares about Siobhan and what may be happening to her. She was a means to an end for him, but to me she is everything.

Ronan's car pulls up, and he and my brother Lochlan climb out and walk back to my car. Both of them have serious expressions, both carrying their weapons. When they climb in and shut the doors, I'm so seething mad about this, I can't even speak. Ronan has to speak for me.

"She's not our problem anymore, Finn." His tone is even and low. I know to him this is nothing for us to be concerned about. He's ready to focus again on what's important and he has no clue what has actually transpired between me and Siobhan.

"She's pregnant," I tell them, and I stare out the driver's side window, watching cars pass by. Siobhan might not be a concern to him, but the blood that runs through that baby's veins is O'Rourke blood. He's bound by an oath to protect any O'Rourke life to the death and he knows it.

He sighs hard. I hear Lochlan shift in his seat and glance at the rearview mirror to see him scowling at me too. I didn't do anything I wasn't supposed to do. My job in this was to make her see the light, and I did. In the end, things worked out for Mick. What I did to make that happen is of little consequence now, except that it resulted in my falling for her. Even if she wasn’t pregnant—which I fully believe that she is—I would still rescue her. I won't let Doyle scum hurt her.

"Christ almighty, Finn." Ronan's tone is biting, but he knows a war is coming anyway.

"Look, they attacked Mick's character. Exposed him for more than just the murder. He's going to lose everything anyway, still may end up doing some time for the gun trade, and all you care about is the fecking alliance." I round on Lochlan and glare at both of them, arm stretched out across the car to the back of Ronan's seat where my fingers grip it tightly. "She's having my child. She is an O'Rourke. You're either with me, and loyal to O'Rourke blood, or you're not. Which is it?"

I have no right speaking to my chief this way, but I'm done with semantics and rhetoric. We either stick together as a family or we don't.

"Chill the feck out, Brother." Ronan pulls his gun out, chambers a round, checks the safety is on, then puts it back in its holster. "We're with you. Now what did the car look like?"

The tension in the car snaps and I feel relief as I pull into traffic and head toward the row of shops a block up. I tell them about the incident where two Doyles tried to attack Siobhan on the street outside that restaurant, then the time they attacked me in the street in front of her home. The car is one in the same, and I am on a manhunt to find them. I know they've brought her here into their territory, and I won't stop searching until I find them. If she's still alive, I'll save her. And if she's not, I'll kill them all singlehandedly.

We park along the strip mall and get out. All three of us are very aware that we are deep in Doyle territory, breaking unwritten rules for this city that we know will mean death. But the war was started by Cormac months ago when his son murdered Aiden. It was made worse as they continued to attack us by framing Mick. Today, we are bringing it back to them, though it won't be ended today, even if we recover Siobhan.

"We'll check each store here, ask shop owners if they know anything. We'll find something," Ronan instructs, and I'm on board with his plan. We walk into the first place, a little sushi shop that's family owned. The man behind the counter—an older man with greying hair and a puckered face—looks up at us with fear in his eyes. He knows who we are by the looks of it, or at least what we're about. It's promising.

"I can't help you," he says defensively, raising his hands in surrender. I don't believe him, so I lean on the counter with one elbow allowing him to see into my shirt where my gun is holstered under my arm.

"You seem afraid," I say, and he nods.

"I can't help you," he says again, this time shaking his head. His hands remain in the air.

"You know the Doyles?" My eyes search his trembling features. Men like me have come into this place and terrorized him before. It's obvious by his reaction.

"Yes, and I cannot help you, so please leave." He's backing away now, so I pull my gun and point it at him. I don't care that there are several people here enjoying their sushi and noodles. I'll gun him down if he doesn't start talking.

Ronan, on the other hand, has more sense about him right now. He presses one finger to the muzzle of my gun and lowers it, and the man stops backing up.

"Sir, we are looking for our friend. A pregnant woman, pretty, long legs… have you seen her? We believe Mr. Doyle has taken her."

The man shakes his head and repeats for the third time. "I can't help you, sir." His eyes flick around his dining room and he smiles a very strained smile. "Perhaps next door." His slight nod, accompanied by the way his eyes are shifting, tells me that's the most help we'll get. Next door must be some code for someone else in this strip mall knowing something.

I glance at Ro and he scowls, but we retreat. If that man is worried about what we'll do, I imagine he's terrified of what Doyle would do. He's probably already calling Doyle's men to warn them we're coming, which means time is ticking now.

"What the feck was that about?" Lochlan asks, and Ronan rubs the back of his neck as we walk.

"Doyle has these people scared shitless." Ronan leads the way into the next shop, an old used electronics store where everything is covered in dust.

I walk past the rows of old gaming consoles, broken coffee machines, and hand-held devices to the counter where a stumpy old man with no hair and a cigar hanging out of his mouth sits reading a magazine. He doesn’t even look up at us as he approaches. Not until I point my gun at him. I'm done playing nice guy. I need answers.

"Listen, buddy, I paid up already. Tell Cormac to get fucked." His eyes only flick up to meet mine briefly before he looks back at his magazine to ignore me.

"I'm not here for Cormac. I'm here to get answers. Where is Cormac? Does he have a safe house? A place he does business?" The tension in my chest is an over-tuned piano string ready to snap. I can't take much more of this. It's been almost an hour since they took her and there's no telling what hell she's being put through.

The man folds his magazine shut and glowers at me as he takes his cigar from his mouth and points at the door. "Well, I don't answer to you. I have a deal with Doyle, and if you're lookin' for him, you're not my friend. So get outta here."

Ronan can't move fast enough. I use the butt of my gun to smash the man on the head, and he drops his cigar to the ground, wincing and covering the red lump as it begins to swell up.

"Tell me where the feck to find him," I order, and Ronan shoves me back. Then he stamps out the cigar on the ground and grabs the man's tie.

"I swear, buddy, I can't help you. If I tell you where that bastard lives, he'll come kill my family." The man is a blubbering fool, straight from badass to yellow-bellied, and Ronan has him by the throat.

"So you know where he lives?" Ro asks, and the man shakes his head. "If you're lying and I find out, I'll come kill you myself." He pulls his own weapon and puts it right into the man's mouth, shoving it in so far he can't even speak, though he tries.

"What's that?" I ask, and I feel Lochlan grab my shoulder and pull me back.

"Ronan," Loch cautions. We don't need a scene here to alert the Doyles of what's coming their way. What we need is to get the information and get out of here. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to bust this man's ass.

"Tell me where he is, now, and I'll let you live," Ronan says, removing the gun from his mouth, and the man starts singing like a canary.

"Downing street. Big blue house on a corner with some rock garden out front. Please, Mister, I'm just tryin' to do my job here." Before he can finish what he's saying, I whack him in the head again. This time, the blow is hard enough to knock him out. He crumples to the ground under his own body weight and lies there like a lump of coal.

Now that we know where to go, we don't lose any time. I race back to the car, and Ronan and Lochlan are on my heels. Without knowing what we're getting into, this could be risky, so Loch calls for backup. Declan, Connor, and a dozen other men will meet us there, and this war is about to get very violent. I can taste the blood in the air already.