Into Temptation (Deliver Us from Evil Trilogy Book Two) Page 23

  “Rory and Cami are the strongest and street smart. They can protect our friends and also, yer home. If we sit down with them and explain that, they’ll listen. Well, I think.”

  Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, I ponder on what he just said. “It might work, but for this to succeed, I’d need Rory on board, and after last night, I doubt he’s in a mood to do anything to help me.”

  “But he’d do anythin’ to protect Cami,” he counters quickly because he’s right.

  Rory may hate us both, but if push came to shove, he’d do the right thing. He’d do it because he loves Babydoll.

  “Fuck. I hate this. Asking either of them is an arrogant request. Cami has every right to be there. And Rory has every right to tell me to go fuck myself.”

  “He won’t, and Cami will see reason. Eventually,” he adds, making a pained face as he knows she’s going to lose her shite.

  She will understand when I explain it, but I hate that I have to ask this of her. But Hannah is at risk, and if anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself for it. And neither will Babydoll.

  Confronting Rory is far less scary than asking Babydoll, so I dial his number. I’m surprised when he answers.

  “What the fuck do ya want?”

  “Hi, Rory. Look, ya have every right to hate me. I hate me for what I’ve done. But I need ya. Cami and Hannah need ye.”

  I don’t care that I’m begging. I will get on my knees if it means protecting the people I love.

  “Fuck you,” he replies, and just as I’m about to hang up, something unbelievable happens. “I’m at home. See ya soon.”

  The line goes dead, and I look at Cian, confused.

  He merely shrugs, knowing all along that our friendship will always win.

  I feel beyond awkward knocking on the door of the flat Rory and Babydoll once shared together. But when Rory opens the door, that awkwardness turns to guilt and shame.

  He can’t even look at me without wanting to punch me in the face, and I can’t blame him. I wanted to do the same thing when I found out they were engaged. But we need to get over our differences because we have one thing in common—we both love Cami.

  He steps aside, indicating we can enter.

  Cian clears his throat, always stuck in the middle. “Hey, Rory. I like what y’ve, um, done with the place.”

  He is clearly being sarcastic because the place looks like it’s been robbed. There are the basics like a couch and a coffee table, but any decorative pieces are gone. I’m guessing that’s because he couldn’t stand to see things in his house, reminding him of Babydoll.

  Rory grunts in response, not offering for us to sit. He stands by the door, arms folded, hinting if I have anything to say, then to do so now.

  “Rory, I won’t insult ya by sayin’ I’m sorry.”

  He scoffs, shaking his head, while Cian moves away from us, not interested in being involved in World War III.

  “Aye, I’m sorry yer hurtin’, but I’m not sorry for actin’ on somethin’ both Cami and I wanted.”

  “That’s grand for youse. I couldn’t be happier,” he quips, nostrils flared. “But I don’t think that’s the reason yer here.”

  “Yer right,” I reply, appreciating that he wants to get straight to the point. “Tomorrow, I’m callin’ a meetin’ with Brody’s men. I predict Sean and Liam will be there. We’ve organized men who were loyal to our fathers to be there for us because I assume it’ll be a bloodbath.

  “I don’t know what to expect because Sean has proven to be unpredictable. So, we’re not takin’ any chances and preparing for every scenario. I suspect some men will fight, but most will probably run, not interested in being caught up in our war.

  “But this is personal to us. Blood feuds last forever, but I’m going to end it tomorrow…and I need yer help.”

  Rory snickers, curling his lip. “Y’ve some bollocks on ye, comin’ here and askin’ for my help.”

  “I know that,” I agree, “but if I weren’t desperate, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “I used to love this flat,” he says, ignoring my statement. “It was a home Cami and I built together. But now, all I can think ’bout is how yer gaff is where she calls home. How your bed is where she sleeps. Ya couldn’t leave her alone, could ya?

  “Ye can have anyone, but why her? Darcy Duffy, for fuck’s sake, is knockin’ at yer door, yet ya had to steal the woman I love when ya could have had anyone!”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” I reply, standing my ground when Rory walks forward. “I didn’t want to hurt ye, Rory. But I love her. I’ve always loved her, and she loves me. I know yer the better match. I can’t get my head around it, but she wants to be with me. And I will do everythin’ in my power to protect her.”

  Rory isn’t interested in sentiments, however, and with a roar, he strikes me in the jaw.

  My head snaps back with a sharp crack, but I slowly turn to face him once again. I don’t retaliate. This has been a long time coming.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Cian groans, stepping back.

  “I’m not goin’ to fight ya, Rory.”

  “Too bad then, ’cause I plan on fightin’ you.” He punches me again, this time in the nose.

  Blood instantly pours from my nose as Rory has always had a killer right hook. He launches at me, sending me toppling onto the floor. He commences punching my face, cursing the day I was born. I don’t fight back because I deserve this.

  This is Rory’s therapy, and if this will help him heal, help him forgive me for betraying him, then I will endure each strike until he can look at me again.

  “Enough!” Cian cries, attempting to pull Rory off me. But Rory shoves him so hard, Cian slams against the wall.

  “Always jumpin’ to his defense,” he sneers, slamming his fist to my jaw. “Nothing has changed. Since we were kids, ya were always makin’ excuses for him.”

  “Dry yer eyes, will ya,” I retort, not interested in Rory’s sob story. Cian has nothing to do with this.

  My comment only adds fuel to the fire, and with a snarl, he splits my lip open.

  “Fight me!” he demands, hovering over me, my blood dripping from his fists.

  “Naw, I won’t fight ya.” I spit out blood, daring him to do his best.

  “Fuck!” he screams, punching me one final time before crawling off me. He joins Cian against the wall, panting and clenching his bloody fists.

  Sitting up, I fruitlessly wipe my bloody lip with the back of my hand because it’s going to take a lot more than that to stop the bleeding. “Ye may hate me, but we want the same thing—to protect Cami. I can’t do that when I’m fightin’, but you can.”

  He nods, indicating he’s listening.

  “I need someone I can trust to stay with Cami, Amber, Hannah, Darcy, and the long list of others who are in danger. I want that person to be you. I can’t protect them, but I know you can. I have no right askin’ ya this, but please help me.

  “Stay with them and keep them safe.”

  “And what makes ya think Cami is going to stay put? She’ll want to go with ya.”

  “We present her with both options and let her decide,” I say, hating how this hits so close to home. “I don’t want to lie to her, and I don’t want to take away her free will. If she decides to come, then so be it. That’ll be her choice, but I hope she sees reason.

  “You two are the only people who can do this. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

  “It’s a little late for that,” he snaps, but his anger has subsided.

  “I know that, but I’ll never stop tryin’ to make things right.” I mean that in every possible way.

  Rory flexes his swollen hand, flinching. “Y’ve still got a hard head, I see.”

  “Sure, this is it.”

  Just like Babydoll, this is Rory’s choice. If he tells me to go fuck myself, then at least I tried. But I know he won’t. Regardless of his feelings for me, he would never let those who are innocent suffer.<
br />
  His love for Cami has him nodding. “Ats us nai.”

  Cian sighs, thankful no more blood will be spilled—for now.

  However, being pummeled to a pulp was the easy part because Rory’s punches will seem like a piece of piss compared to what I’m about to face—asking Babydoll to sit this one out.

  I suddenly wish he’d knocked me out cold.

  Hannah is asleep because the pain medication Dr. Shannon prescribed has knocked her out. It’s good she sleeps because she needs to recover—in more ways than one.

  Her young eyes have seen so much. I hate that she can’t live the life of a typical teenager, but I suppose Hannah has never been “normal,” and that’s a good thing. She’s far wiser and stronger than I was at her age.

  Fiona hasn’t shown up. I’m surprised because after her theatrics last night, I thought she’d be here with the police, demanding mine and Puck’s head. Deep down, she knows that we can protect Hannah when she can’t.

  It’s the first selfless thing she’s done.

  When I hear the gravel crunch, the sure sign a car is approaching, I carefully part the curtain an inch and look out the living room window. I sigh when I see Punky’s truck, but that turns to a gasp when he hobbles from the passenger side, beaten and bloody.

  I jump up from the sofa, but stop dead in my tracks when Rory gets out of the truck as well.

  What the fuck is going on?

  Cian opens the door while I stand in the middle of the living room, not concealing my confusion and concern. Punky stumbles in after him, looking at me sheepishly when we lock eyes. The fact that there isn’t a scratch on Rory has me inhaling sharply.

  “Are you all right?”

  Punky nods, not wanting to make a fuss, but I’m angry. How dare Rory do this? I don’t need an explanation. I can read between the lines.

  He limps into the bathroom to clean himself up and probably change because his white T-shirt is covered in blood. Rory doesn’t say a word.

  “You fucking hit him?” I demand he has the balls to tell me what happened.

  “Aye, I did.” He shows no remorse for his actions, which merely infuriates me further.

  “You had no right to do that. If you’re going to get physical with him, then do so with me too.” I charge forward, daring him to hit me. “I’m just as much to blame as he is.”

  “No,” he admonishes, taking a step back, horrified. “I will not. I won’t strike ya.”

  “Why not?” I press, getting in his face as he continues backing away. “’Cause I’m a girl?”

  “Cami, enough now!”

  But I won’t stop. “No, I think we’ve just begun! Go on, do to me what you did to Punky. It’s only fair. Or maybe you won’t because you know I’ll fight back!”

  Rory turns his cheek, my words wounding him.

  “Cat got your tongue, tough guy?”

  Punky’s heavy footsteps announce his arrival, and I’m thankful he doesn’t tell me to back off because this is my fight as well. If Rory wants to lash out, then let it be to both Punky and me because that’s only fair. But I know Rory won’t hurt me. He may hate me, but his love for me is still strong.

  Only when Punky gently places his hand on my lower back does my anger simmer.

  I turn to look at him, his beaten face upsetting me. He could have fought back, but I know he didn’t because he believes he deserves it. Punky is so fucking noble, and that’s one of the many things I love about him.

  “There’s something I need to ask ye,” he says, and his tone has my stomach dropping.

  “Okay.”

  He takes his time, which just adds to my nerves.

  “I know ya want to come with me tomorrow. I respect that. But…I want ya to stay here.”

  I arch a brow, indicating he has three seconds to explain before I tell him what I think of his request.

  “Hannah, Amber, my grandparents, and a long list of others are in danger. They can be used as collateral. Just how Ethan and Eva are. I’m askin’ that you and—” he swallows deeply, revealing how hard his request is. “That you and Rory stay here and protect them. Protect the legacy we’re fighting to save.

  “So, I’m giving ya the choice because this is just as much yer fight as it is mine. If ya want to come tomorrow, then I won’t stop ya. But I’m askin’ ya to stay here and defend the people who need protectin’.

  “You and Rory are smart and can fight if it comes to that. I’ll have men here guardin’ ya, but that didn’t seem to make a difference for Ethan, Eva, and Hannah.”

  My breathing is measured because I’m livid he would ask this of me. He says it’s my choice, but he knows my hands are tied. I won’t allow anything to happen to Hannah or Amber, but this isn’t fair. I don’t want to sit here, waiting, while he fights.

  “How can you ask this of me? It’s not fair. Not to mention, it’s fucking sexist. I’m expected to stay here, hoping that I’ll see you again. Is that it?”

  “Baby, no, this has nothin’ to do with ya being a girl. Y’ve got bigger bollocks than Cian and me combined, and that’s why I need ya here. Hannah can’t protect herself. If yer all together, then we’ll have a fighting shot at winnin’ this.”

  “And this has nothing to do with the fact that you’d prefer I stay here where it’s likely to be less dangerous?”

  “Of course, I’d prefer ya to stay here,” he confesses without pause. “Yer my everythin’, and if I have a chance at keepin’ ya safe, then I make no apologies for that.”

  Goddamn him.

  “This is your choice, Cami. It always has been,” Rory says without bite as he knows I’ll tear him to shreds if he insinuates I’m being unreasonable. “If ya want to go with Punky, then do it. I’ll stay here because what Punky says makes sense.

  “Sean has managed to outsmart us time and time again. I won’t give him another opportunity to do so. But that’s my choice. Just how whatever you decide to do is yers.”

  I’m put on the spot because everything they’re saying makes sense, but the thought of being here, worrying about Punky and whether he’ll come back to me, makes me want to be sick.

  On cue, vomit rises. “Excuse me.”

  I run to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth, making it just in time as I throw up into the toilet. I’ve barely eaten, but my body won’t quit, and soon, I’m retching, hoping to expel the emptiness within.

  Wiping my mouth with some toilet paper, I flush the toilet and turn on the faucet on the sink. Cupping some water, I splash it onto my cheeks because I feel like I’m burning up. It doesn’t help, so I gulp down handfuls of water.

  “Baby?”

  Groaning, I close my eyes and grip the counter. “You’re not done with your guerrilla tactics yet?”

  “It’s not like that,” Punky says. “I’m sorry if ya felt attacked.”

  “I don’t feel attacked,” I declare, opening my eyes and looking at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m insulted. I thought we were equals.”

  “We are,” he insists, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s why I need ya here. I know ya can protect Hannah. And I know ye can protect yerself.”

  “If that’s true, then why not ask Cian to stay here with Rory, and I’ll fight alongside you?”

  He averts his gaze, which is all the answer I need.

  “Exactly my point,” I say, shaking my head in defeat. “I can’t shake this feeling in my gut that something bad will happen if we split up.”

  “Ya think I want ya here with Rory? I hate that he can protect ya while I can’t!” he bellows, arms out wide. “I hate that any of youse are in this position in the first place.”

  I turn around and lock eyes with him. “You said I have a choice. Well, my choice is I’m coming with you. Rory can stay here because I agree, someone needs to be here to protect our friends. But he can handle that himself.”

  Punky opens his mouth but soon closes it, exhaling in defeat.

  I dare him to fight me on this beca
use I know he wishes I would choose what’s behind door number two, but he doesn’t. He won’t be a hypocrite. I also know he won’t do anything devious like tie me to the bed so I can’t leave.

  He will support my choice because he loves me.

  “Okay. If that’s what ya want.”

  “It is,” I counter, folding my arms across my chest.

  We’ve come to an agreement, but we may as well be oceans apart. This is something we will never agree on.

  Even though I’ve made my choice, I can’t help but feel selfish for it. Like I’ve made it to prove a point. I suddenly can’t breathe. “I need some air.”

  Punky doesn’t stop me as I push past him and race out the front door. I continue running, feeling freer the farther I go.

  Tears leak from my eyes because I know I’m being unreasonable, but the thought of Punky facing Sean alone tears me apart inside. I want to be there to protect him, just as he wants to protect me. If this is the end, I want to be there with him.

  I know the odds aren’t in our favor, and I’m scared. I’m scared if Punky goes alone, I’ll never see him again.

  A guttural sob robs me of air, and I fall to my knees in the middle of the grassy field and cry the tears I’ve tried so hard to keep at bay. I cry for my sister, who doesn’t want a part in this war. I cry for Hannah and Ethan, whose lives have been destroyed. I cry for Rory, for hurting him when I never wanted to.

  I cry for every innocent man and woman who has suffered because of this feud.

  But most of all, I cry for Punky and me because all we wanted was to live a simple life, but that was taken away from us by monsters who still haunt our dreams.

  “I’m sorry,” I whimper to no one in particular because everyone involved in this has had their life destroyed in some way or form.

  Hugging my middle, I tip my face to the heavens and beg for a sign that things will be okay. I plead that come tomorrow, Punky will be alive.

  I don’t get the divine intervention I was hoping for as the world continues to turn, regardless of my troubles. But I suppose that’s what being alive entails—no matter your hardships, you have to keep going. The world won’t stop just because you want to—you just have to learn to keep up.