Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(99)

Even worse, what if Scotty used the other side of his advantage—and turned me into the boys? Told them all the shit I’d done and locked me away behind bars?

Maybe I should tell Tate about Scotty’s dirty little secret first and be responsible for yet another “disappearance” in the Donahue family.

Or . . . I could just hide out.

Wait and see how all this blew over.

Nothing good ever came from rash decisions, and after the death of four Bitter Hill guys, there was more than likely going to be some reaction. And that backlash would circle around to me. I’d sworn Phil and his men to secrecy when I hired them to take Lucas out, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t blabbed to someone.

Men like them always did.

I stumbled down the alley, each step hurting more than the last. Lucas had kicked my ass within an inch of my life, and he should have killed me. I should be dead. Maybe I should just lie down and wait to bleed out. It was a fairly peaceful way to go for a guy like me. I could just let my blackened blood spread across the grimy cement until nothing remained of me but a dried-up shell.

But that damn survival instinct in me refused.

I f*cked up big-time by betraying my best friend—that much was true. But to just give up and let the devil drag me to hell? I couldn’t do it. And Scotty, fool that he was, had a lot riding on this whole affair, too. If he wanted to remain undercover, he would need me to back his story up. Vouch for him.

If he told them I was there, too, I needed to agree.

It was the only way to keep Scotty whole.

I had to play my part. Tate and the rest of the guys at Steel Row would expect me to be vengeful, bitter, and upset. I could do that. It might be too late to make it up to Lucas, to let him know how sorry I was for what I did, but I could save Scotty.

Because I owed it to Lucas.

It was a small thing to do, really. Not even close to big enough to make up for all I did, or the lies I told in my quest for power and Pop’s approval.

But it was something.

And it had to be enough.

Rounding the corner, I clutched my bleeding shoulder and rested against the wall, breathing heavily. The world spun in front of me, and I rested against the rough brick. I needed a few seconds to gather some strength.

To make sure I didn’t pass out—

“Well, well, what do we have here?” a man said from the darkness. I recognized that voice, damn it. Reggie, a lieutenant in Bitter Hill, was the only other man who knew about my plot to kill Lucas. Therefore, he was the only man who knew why Bitter Hill guys had died, and how. He probably hadn’t shared that information, because working with Steel Row would get him and Phil killed, too. “Chris O’Brien, bleeding and alone.”

Forcing my eyes open, I smirked. “Reggie, great to see you, man.”

“Where are my men, O’Brien?”

“Yeah, about that . . .” I shrugged, ignoring the pain blazing through my shoulder from the small gesture. “Turns out, Lucas isn’t as easy to take down as I thought. It got ugly, and there were losses, but he’s dead.”

Reggie rubbed his jaw and walked closer, his black hair as black as his eyes. He’d been walking behind me, and I stiffened. I didn’t like anyone at my back. Especially not guys like him—guys like me. “Let me guess. Steel Row thinks we’re to blame while you’re free and clear.”

“Shit if I know. Haven’t heard word yet. I’m kinda recovering from the op, in case you can’t tell.” I straightened and pushed off the wall. “But as soon as I hear who they’re looking to pop, I’ll let you know.”

Reggie chuckled. “Yeah. Sure you will. You must think I’m a f*cking fool.”

Well, actually . . . “Nah, man.”

“Why should I believe you?”

I shrugged, even though it hurt. “Why not? You lost some men, but you took down Lucas Donahue. I call that a win.”

“Know what I’d call a win?” He flicked a finger, and two guys came out from the darkness. “Kill him, and make it painful.”

He walked away, not bothering to turn around to see if his men followed orders. I reached for my gun—till I remembered that Lucas had taken it from me. “Shit.”

Reggie’s guys grinned, and one pulled out a Glock. “Any last words?”

I’m sorry, Lucas. “Yeah.” I inched closer and forced a grin. The man’s hold on his weapon trembled, and I knew I could take him. A man who hesitated was a man easily overtaken. “Never f*ck with someone who’s got nothing to lose.”

I threw myself at him, and we hit the ground with a bang—literally. The gun went off, and the bullet miraculously hit the man who leapt forward to help his buddy. He hit the ground, convulsing and choking on blood. The guy under me cursed and let loose a mean right hook that solidly connected with my nose. I rolled to the side, blinking away the impending blackness, but I knew I would be too late.

I really was going to die in this alley . . .

And I deserved it.