Chapter 6 - The Shadows of the Harbor
The Boston harbor at midnight was a graveyard of rusted shipping containers and thick, blinding fog. The scent of salt water and rotting wood hung heavy in the air.
Maeve stood under the dim yellow light of a single streetlamp, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of a heavy black coat Rafe had given her. Beneath the coat, a state-of-the-art Kevlar vest pressed tightly against her ribs, but it did little to calm the frantic racing of her heart.
A door to an abandoned warehouse creaked open, and three men stepped out into the fog. At the center was Liam O'Leary—a cruel, weather-beaten man with a scarred throat and silver hair, carrying a heavy iron pipe in his hand.
"Well, well," Liam sneered, his thick South Boston accent dripping with malice. "The little waitress who wanted to play hero. Rafe Colazo must really be losing his edge if he lets his pretty new bride walk into my yard alone."
"I’m here, Liam," Maeve said, keeping her voice steady through sheer force of will. "Call off your men at the hospital. Now."
"Oh, the boy's safe for now, sweetpea," Liam laughed, stepping closer. "But your boyfriend Rafe has been squeezing my docks for three years. I wanted to see what kind of woman was worth twenty million dollars of debt clearance."
He raised his hand, gesturing to his men to grab her. "Take her. We’ll see how much Rafe is willing to sign over once we send him a couple of her fingers."
Suddenly, the massive industrial floodlights above the warehouse snapped on, blinding everyone with a piercing, white glare.
From the darkness of the fog, the sleek, armored SUVs of the Colazo family tore into the yard, pinning Liam's men against the containers. The heavy rattle of gunfire erupted instantly, the sound echoing off the water like thunder.
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Maeve threw herself to the ground behind a concrete barrier as bullets shredded the asphalt around her. Through the smoke, she saw Rafe step out of the lead vehicle. He wasn't hiding behind his men. He moved like a shadow, a silenced weapon in his hand firing with lethal, terrifying precision.
Liam O'Leary panicked, turning to run back into the warehouse, but Rafe was faster. He tackled the older mob boss to the ground, the sound of Liam’s iron pipe clattering loudly against the concrete.
