I couldn’t return the sentiment, so I stayed silent.
Con seemed to respect that, giving me a small nod before looking at Nate. “We done here?” He used the sight on his pistol to scratch his cheek.
“We’re even.” Nate nodded. “And you’re dead again.”
“Good. I’d like to stay that way. Dead, gone, dusted.” He grumbled and shoved his pistol into the back of his pants. “I only killed maybe a dozen or so. Pretty shitty haul for me.”
Nate smirked. “I got at least fifteen. Maybe you’re losing your touch.”
“Shut the fuck up. I saw your pansy ass taking pot shots from behind me.”
“Why do you think I called you, man? I needed a human shield.”
The corner of Con’s lips twitched. “I knew I shouldn’t have answered when I saw ‘Nate the dipshit’ on my caller ID.”
“Bullshit.” Nate swiped at the blood on his neck. “You were dying for some action. I bet you acted all butthurt to Charlie about having to come out here, but you had that same old hard-on for me like you always do.”
“Nate,” the warning in Con’s voice would have stopped any sane man in his tracks. Not my Nate.
“Do you put my picture on the back of her head while you’re doing it doggy—”
Con’s fist shot out faster than seemed possible. Nate’s head reared back, but the hit wasn’t much more than a tap. He rubbed his jaw. “Okay, I was mistaken. You still got it.”
Con gave a perfunctory nod.
Colum stepped toward Con. “I don’t suppose you’d want to come back to work for me and the—”
Con’s low growl shut him right up. “I’m dead. You never saw me. If I hear different, I’ll be back for you.”
The Irish boss’s eyes widened and he dropped his gaze. “Never mind then.”
Nate walked me through the bedroom and into the hall, my mom following with us. A contingent of Irish stood outside, their guns still at the ready in case any of the Russian corpses on the floor decided to show signs of life.
Everything that had happened over the past few hours rippled beneath the surface of my mind, some of the terrors breaching while others mulled around in the depths. “Dmitri set the house on fire.”
Nate squeezed my waist. “It’s a total loss. And there’s more. Peter got hit in the airport firefight.”
“Is he all right?”
Con opened a door to a stairway next to the elevator. Nate hustled me in first, followed by my mother.
“He’s in surgery. I’m not sure how it’s going to go.”
We took the stairs in silence, and when we finally emerged from the building, the cool night air was a balm on my nerves.
Colum directed his men into the waiting vehicles and told them to lay low for the day. Con flipped Nate off, then strode away down the street, turning into an alley and disappearing into the dark night without another word.
“The deal is done, Nate.” Colum held out his hand, and Nate shook it. “You won over Angus, and you’ve won over me, too. Let’s hammer out the details in a few days’ time.” He climbed into a waiting car as sirens started to wail nearby.
“Come on.” Nate opened the passenger door of his SUV, which he’d parked on the curb, and helped me inside, then assisted my mother into the backseat. Climbing into the driver’s side, he said, “I need to check on Peter. I can drop you two off at—”
“Not a chance.” I rested my hand on his. “I’m sticking to you from here on out. Wherever you go, I go.”
He pulled the back of my hand to his lips and kissed it. “What did I do to deserve you?”
I spent the ride to the hospital fussing over his cuts and the ugly gash on his neck, though he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by any of it and took every opportunity to drop kisses on my hands, my arms—anywhere he could place his lips. My mother sat quietly and stared out the window, as if her eyes were readjusting to life outside of Dmitri’s cage.
When we arrived, I checked my mother in at the ER for a full checkup. She balked at first, then gave in when a kind nurse helped me lead her to her room.
“I’ll be back.” I smoothed my hand along her blonde hair. “I’m just going to check on Peter.”
“I’m okay.” She squeezed my hand. “As long as you’re safe, I’ll be fine.”
I took Nate’s hand, and we walked to the elevator.
A couple of orderlies gave Nate some curious stares, probably because he looked like he needed a room. But he’d been adamant about refusing treatment until he knew how Peter was doing.
I hit the button for the third floor. “Have you had any messages from David?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what to expect.”