Chapter 2 - The Bullet That Was Meant for the Woman Who Cooked His Mother’s Recipe
The first thing Tessa noticed was that Ronan's hand was still around her wrist.
The second was that he was holding a gun in his other hand.
The third was that everyone in the room had stopped breathing.
Another gunshot sounded from below.
Ronan pushed Tessa farther behind the wall.
"Stay here."
She grabbed his sleeve.
"What is happening?"
"Someone is trying to make sure you don't leave this building."
Her stomach dropped.
"Me?"
Ronan looked at her.
"Probably."
The guards moved into the hallway.
Ronan spoke quietly.
"Lock the room."
One guard nodded.
Tessa stared at him.
"I don't understand."
"You don't need to."
"I think I do."
Ronan looked toward the door.
"You cooked my mother's recipe."
"Yes."
"That recipe hasn't existed outside my family for fourteen years."
"I didn't know."
"I believe you."
"Then why am I in danger?"
Ronan's jaw tightened.
"Because someone else knows."
The lights flickered.
Then everything went dark.
Tessa gasped.
Ronan's arm immediately wrapped around her waist.
"Don't move."
The darkness lasted three seconds.
Then emergency lights came on.
Red.
Dim.
Terrifying.
One of the guards rushed back.
"Boss."
"What?"
"The elevator is disabled."
Ronan's expression didn't change.
"Stairs?"
"Blocked."
"Kitchen?"
"Compromised."
Ronan looked at Tessa.
She suddenly understood.
They were trapped.
Then someone knocked on the door.
Three slow knocks.
Ronan raised his weapon.
"Who?"
A voice answered.
"Mr. Callahan."
Ronan recognized it.
"Fletcher?"
"Yes."
"Open the door."
Ronan didn't move.
"Tell me what you see."
Silence.
Then Arthur's voice.
"Nothing."
Ronan's eyes narrowed.
"Then why are you knocking?"
Arthur hesitated.
"I don't know."
A gunshot came through the door.
Arthur screamed.
Ronan fired back.
The hallway erupted.
Tessa dropped to the floor.
Bullets struck the wall.
One guard returned fire.
Then silence.
Ronan grabbed Tessa.
"We're leaving."
"Where?"
"Roof."
They ran through a service corridor.
Tessa stumbled.
Ronan caught her.
"Keep moving."
"You're bleeding."
He looked down.
A thin line of blood ran along his forearm.
"Scratch."
"You call that a scratch?"
"Yes."
"You're insane."
"I've been called worse."
They reached the stairwell.
Ronan kicked open a locked door.
Rain had started outside.
The roof was slick.
Tessa followed.
Then she heard footsteps.
Someone was coming.
Ronan pushed her behind a ventilation unit.
Three armed men emerged.
Ronan fired twice.
One fell.
Another ducked.
The third aimed directly at Tessa.
Ronan moved before she could scream.
He stepped between them.
The bullet struck his shoulder.
Tessa screamed.
"Ronan!"
He staggered.
Then fired.
The shooter dropped.
The remaining man ran.
Ronan tried to follow.
His knees buckled.
Tessa caught him.
"You've been shot."
"Apparently."
"You need a hospital."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because hospitals ask questions."
She looked at the blood.
"So do I."
He almost smiled.
Then he collapsed against her.
Tessa dragged him beneath the roof overhang.
For the first time, she saw how young he actually looked.
Not thirty-three.
Not powerful.
Not frightening.
Just exhausted.
She pressed her hands against the wound.
"Don't die."
Ronan opened his eyes.
"That's an order?"
"Yes."
He stared at her.
Then whispered something.
"What?"
"My mother used to say that."
Tessa froze.
"What?"
"When I was sick."
He closed his eyes.
"She said the same thing."
Tessa's fingers trembled.
"What was her name?"
Ronan looked at her.
"Margaret."
Tessa felt something inside her memory shift.
Eda had once shown her an old photograph.
A beautiful woman.
Dark hair.
Kind eyes.
A teenage boy beside her.
Tessa had never known their names.
She had assumed they were relatives.
Now she realized.
She had seen Margaret Callahan.
And she had seen Ronan.
Ronan suddenly opened his eyes.
"You've seen her."
Tessa swallowed.
"Eda had a photograph."
"Where?"
"At her house."
"Do you still have it?"
"No."
Ronan stared.
"Where is it?"
"Eda burned most of her papers before she died."
"Most?"
Tessa remembered the notebook.
The leather notebook.
She had it.
At home.
Ronan watched her expression.
"You remembered something."
"I have her notebook."
"Where?"
"My apartment."
"Then we're going there."
Tessa stared.
"Now?"
"Now."
He tried to stand.
She pushed him down.
"You're bleeding."
"I've been bleeding before."
"You're impossible."
"Probably."
Tessa looked at him.
Then at the city.
She had no idea what she had stepped into.
But she knew one thing.
Eda had known Ronan's mother.
And someone had just shot Ronan because Tessa cooked a fourteen-year-old recipe.
The mystery had begun.
Neither of them knew that the leather notebook contained a name.
A name that had been erased from every official record.
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A name belonging to the man who had ordered Margaret Callahan's murder.
And that man was still alive.
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