Page 28 of Insidious Heart
Then she had to go and impress the fuck out of me, had toflatterme with everything she knows about The Harvester of Bones, and I was toast.
She knows how I do things, probably right down to the most minor detail, even seems to have an inkling as to why, and she didn’t even hesitate to come to my defense over these last two murders they’re trying to pin on me. All with supporting evidence that proves they weren’t my kills.
Thatmade my dick even harder and I’m kind of shocked Stevie didn’t notice.
I imagine that can be attributed to the way her hair was hanging in her face, or maybe the fact that she had a hard time maintaining eye contact for too long, but either way, Stevie had no clue how turned on I was the entire time we talked. Just like she has no idea she’s now mine because of it.
Aside from Little John, I have never met another person that didn’t fear me, at least a little bit. I set off alarm bells for most people, rightfully so, because that sixth sense seemingly everyone but me was born with tells them I’m not quite right.
Sure, I can acknowledge the fact I’m devastatingly handsome and extremely charismatic, but that isn’t enough to balance out the crazy hiding underneath no matter how carefully I’ve crafted the proverbial mask I wear. And most people stay away because they pick up on that crazy almost immediately in spite of it.
Even when I met Spider and his crew face to face for the first time, a group of men that can be called killers in their own right, they were leery, and I know their old ladies thought John was nuts for hanging around someone like me.
They didn’t know for sure Little John was affiliated with the ghost at first, didn’t have concrete proof or anything before Spider went digging, but they suspected it after a few bodies that were linked to the WKMC turned up with my signature—they just couldn’t pinpoint thewhy. Then, because his brain is just as gigantic as the rest of him, Fin MacAllister connected the dots and I was so damn impressed—not surprised, but impressed—that I couldn’t keep my trap shut when he came looking for me after shit hit the fan with his son.
So, I spilled the beans about everything except my real name, told those hardened barbarians I am The Harvester of Bones and have been doing freelance work for John for the better part of twelve years, and that I absolutely went after those prospects and Rosco Shapiro out of respect for their club and my loyalty to our grizzly bear in common.
Saying no one knows about me and what I do isn’t exactly true anymore, but telling the Kings, whether they like me or not, is basically the same thing as keeping it a secret. They’ll never say anything about me or my line of work, they’ll call on me when they need to, and I can keep doing what I do for Little John when he asks without worrying about most of the clubs or authorities getting in my way.
But learning the things they did, coupled with the alarm bells I triggered, kept everyone on the defensive for quite a while despite why they called me in the first place.
Which was totally warranted, but after I happily helped Spider and his brothers handle the shit with his girl and their son—including a clean up ala the ghost—I seemingly earned their trust and a place in their club, if I ever want it.
So to have someone as beautiful and sweet as Stevie look at me without an ounce of fear—after I startled her, anyway—and almost get rather protective of my alter ego, yeah, the little dove ismine.
Hence the new nickname that is definitely going to stick.
I’m sure she’s just so used to being surrounded by murderers, though, that it doesn’t move her meter anymore, but I’m taking it as a compliment. It makes me feel all kinds of weird things, but I’m not mad at it.
It does complicate things a bit, however.
For starters, she’s the daughter of my recently acquired mark.
And while it’s allowed me to indulge my obsession by keeping tabs on her while tracking Beau, it’s also presented questions I usually don’t give a shit about asking.
Ones like:how would she feel if she knew I was hired to kill her father?Or,would she think I was using her for information if she knew I was sent to track him?I never give a shit about things like that but considering how close to home this will hit for her, it’s had me thinking.
Especially since I don’t knowwhyLittle John’s mysterious old friend wants the fucker dead.
He’s a bad guy for sure. I mean, his nickname sounds worse than mine, and ultimately it doesn’t really matter much to me, but I’ve found myself taking Stevie’s potential feelings on the subject into account and that’s going to make me sloppy.
Sloppy for me, anyway.
Then there’s the little matter ofThe Ripper, as she so adorably put it.
I have to figure out who this person is that’s trying to ruin my reputation, figure out how to avoid having them discover who I really am, and ultimately blow apart the good thing I have going for me, all before I can go after Beau the way I need to. And I’d really hate to have Stevie get caught up in all of that and possibly wind up dead because of it.
There are those damn emotions again.
But they’re true, nonetheless.
I don’t want to see anything bad happen to Stevie by inserting myself into her world, but the problem with that is, I can’t stay away now either. And not just because Little John asked me to dive into this shit with her dad.
I’ve been watching her all week. Literally, all week. I ran into her Monday and it’s now Friday, and I’ve learned her routine because I’ve been tracking her just as closely as I’ve been tracking her asshat sperm donor.
Which isanothercomplication in all of this.
Sitting outside her house before she goes to class, waiting outside said class and following her to work, then standing around watching from across the street until Stevie gets off shift has definitely thrown a wrench in things.
