Chapter 6

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Warning: Language, violence, 

Tom's POV

"What the fuck happened last?!" I grit out through clenched teeth. I vaguely remember what went down at the Tap House Bar last night. I remember the power cutting out and knowing instantly that it had to have something to do with that Moriarty fucker. I remember heading down to the utility room in the basement, yelling at patrons that were down there to clear out and then suddenly feeling extreme pain in my abdomen. I must have blacked out then because I remember nothing after that. I woke up in this goddamn hospital bed with Harrison seated next to me as usual on his fucking phone.

"Moriarty. Some of his men got into the building somehow and cut the power. I don't suspect a rat, more like the guards outside we're just being lazy, but I'll look into it." Harrison runs a hand through his hair. It looks like he hasn't slept in years. "It looked like they were planning on shooting up the bar, but Rocco was able to take them out before they did any real damage. Moriarty had a man in the utility room who cut the power. We found him hiding in an alleyway behind the bar. New guy. He didn't really speak English so we didn't get much from his interrogation. All we were able to find out was that he didn't know who you were. He thought you were just some patron at the bar so that's likely why no one came to finish you off." Harrison leans back in the hospital chair crossing his arms over his chest.

"How the fuck did you find me?" I ask, feeling angrier and angrier with each passing second. There's no fucking way I'm letting Moriarty humiliate me like that again.

"Actually Grace was the one that found you. She answered your phone and told me what had happened and she was the one who called emergency services."

Fucking hell. "What did you tell her?" I growl at Harrison. The last thing I fucking need is for her to know anything about the work that I do.

"Nothing mate. She was a little drunk anyway. She probably thought it was just some punks who robbed you." Shit. Fuck. There's no way she thought that even if she was intoxicated. She's too smart and her goddamn perfect fucking brain won't let her just take things at face value. She knows something's amiss.

Fuck Moriarty. He ruined what was going to be the greatest night of my fucking life. I had Grace. I fucking had her finally after years of desperation I finally had her in my arms grinding her perfect body into mine. Now I'm back to square one. I don't know what I'm going to say to her. How do I explain why I just fucking left her there, alone and needy on the dance floor? Shit.

"When am I supposed to leave this goddamn place?" I ask Harrison. "We need to get the fuck out of here I'm like a goddamn sitting duck." I fucking hate the hospital. We have a meeting room located in the back of the emergency services department at St. Bart's that we use as a private location to conduct business or to bring injured men to be tended to without running the risk of the public finding out. Which is where I suspect I am right now. But, I have never liked using our hospital location, it still felt too public to me.

"Yea I know I didn't really have much of a choice Tom. You were bleeding out and there were several witnesses. I couldn't exactly tell the medics to go away and then shove you into the car. Especially not with Grace there. Don't worry though, I made sure that the responders who arrived were on our payroll. They won't be looking into the matter and they haven't reported your hospitalization or whereabouts. There's men stationed all throughout the facility and outside of our private room here at St. Bart's. You'll be out within the hour." Harrison gets up out of the chair and stretches. "You see now Tom why I've been trying to convey the seriousness of this situation to you. Why I've been putting tails on you. Why I am constantly warning you about your actions having consequences. Shit like this is going to be a constant threat to you when someone finds out about your father's passing. You have to be more careful. Always have a weapon on you to make sure you're never without backup. God Tom just imagine what could've happened had the twat recognized who you were."

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