She heard the bullet. She even swore that she could see it in slow motion, but that was her eyes and brain adding falsities to the storyline, filling in the gaps. It zipped past her, the echo deafening her moments after.
She staggered back a couple of steps but watched Ian leap forward, punching Mike in the jaw. They both went down, fighting over the rifle.
In truth it wasn’t much of a fight. Mike was too out of shape and looked as if he had never traded blows in his whole life. He took a catalogue of brutal punches as Ian tried to rip the rifle from his hands. A blow to the gut caused one of his hands to release its grip. Another forced the second away. Scrambling to his feet, Ian gasped for air, aiming the rifle at Mike who was wheezing in the dirt, coughing and moaning.
Ian glanced at her.
‘Are you okay?’
She nodded. Her heart was thumping like a bass drum in her chest but yes, she was okay. There was even something else. A warmth, a glow that welled up inside her that someone had stood up for her in a time of crisis. Over the past week she had been standing up for Lorcan. He’d used her as a human shield. His own wife. Now the crucial decisions were in Ian’s hands. It felt good to not be in charge. At least for the moment. She didn’t know what would happen next. Things couldn’t go back to how they were but she hoped he had a plan. Or that they could come up with one. A way out. Maybe Lorcan could fill in for Stevie, make as much money as they could and then she’d leave. With Ian. Not Lorcan. That ship had sailed.
Ian was now gazing at Stevie’s body, the rifle still aimed at Mike. She watched as he squeezed his eyes tight as if coming to a decision, before squeezing the trigger and shooting Mike in the head.
He turned to her. Her brain went into scramble mode. Was he going to kill her next? Remove her from the equation. And then her family? Did she mean that little to him? Was she a fool to think she did?
He began to walk towards her. She glanced around but there was nowhere to go. She had made her choice. The wrong choice. A fatal choice.
‘Please. Ian, I—’
But he just wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, drowning out everything that had happened in the last few minutes, enveloped in the damp darkness of his chest. He kissed the top of her head.
‘It’s okay, Nee. It’s okay.’