CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
KIERAN
Marco called me when I was four minutes away.
"She's not answering her phone," he said. "I'm outside the bookshop. Lights are on inside but the door's locked and I can see—" A pause, the kind Marco never took. "Boss, I can see her on the floor."
I don't remember the next four minutes...not clearly. I remember the car going faster. I remember running a red light and someone's horn long and angry behind me. I remember my hands on the steering wheel being completely steady which was somehow the most frightening thing, the way my body went operational when everything in me was screaming.
I remember thinking *not her, not her, not her*.
Marco was at the door when I pulled up, shoulder already drawn back. He hit it once, twice, the third time the frame splinter
