Viper:If this is your way of trying to woo me again…you profusely suck at it. Google that if you can’t understand English. I’m not yours to fuck around with.
Haha…she said Google it.
“Ohhh, but you are.” I cracked a smile and looked up to her window, watching her shadow stomp angrily back and forth. She closed the blinds. Did she think it would be that easy to hide from me? Maybe thisisworking. She couldn’t resist not texting me back.
Me:That’s not very nice. Would it help if I told you that you looked beautiful tonight? And you’re supposed to be sleeping.
By all accounts, I should be back already. I didn’t bank on camping outside her apartment, but I can’t say I’m that upset about it. Our first night together…cute.
Viper: No. It wouldn’t. This is never gonna happen. I don’t nark on my clients. Your secrets are safe. Leave me the hell alone and both of us can stay that way. Savvy?
I guess our fun date is over. I flexed my sore fingers and started the Nova. At least it’s finally stopped raining.
Me: You should rest. Got a busy day tomorrow by the looks of it. Night sweetheart.
That should keep her busy until I can get back down here. I got Declan to dive into whatever he could as far as the systems they use to communicate between medical examiners and hospice houses. He did one better and nailed down the IP address for the laptop she uses in the basement. I now have her full schedule, where they’re coming from, and the best part? It updates as often as she updates it. She can slither all she wants, but she’s not getting away from me.
I pulled up and punched my code into the gate, just about delirious as I parked and kicked gravel the entire way up to the house. I dunno why I was surprised when I heard music and carrying on this early in the morning from the very room I hacked Conor up in the other night as I trudged up the right staircase.
“Mal!”
Finley is one of my oldest mates, and the closest thing I have to a brother. He’s about two seconds older than me, and in my opinion, a hell of a lot better looking. He’s high enough up the ladder in our little family business to be blood to us, and he handles the money around here. He’s also as promiscuous as Bridget, loud, and I swear the fucker doesn’t sleep. I stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to look down at him.
“Where ya been, mate? Come down here and have a drink with us.”
“Next time, brother. Been a long night.” I went to turn and continue up, but Finn stuck his hands in his pockets and wouldn’t stop talking.
“You look blue. Got a couple of lassies in here that might cheer ya right up.”
“Goodnight, Finn.”
It’s always the same. Whiskey, parties…money. Sex. Cigars…blood. More sex. More blood, and lately…less and less money. Finley was the main one pushing the idea for the guns and the drugs, and for what it’s worth, it’s a brilliant idea. But the bigger issue at hand is that the Byrnes are on top and have been for a really long time…and the empire’s falling. People are starting to notice. Thewrongpeople. I know that’s another reason that my father wants this blood feud to end. But making my sister take one for the team isn’t the answer. I wonder if Finn knows about it. He loves Bridget as much as I do, but their shit goes deeper than that. She just won’t give him the pleasure of making her into the queen he sees her as. And don’t believe for one second that just because he’s the money man, that he isn’t just as bloodthirsty as Bridget, or any one of us Irish demons. He’s had his fair share of my sister’s playthings to string up and throw knives at. He’s just cleaner about it.
I finally laid down and felt my body become one with the bed, thankful to Bridget for cleaning up my mess earlier thismorning. I’ll never tell her that, though. I’d actually love to make another mess, but honestly, I’m just too fucking tired to bother. Tired of everything. Somehow it feels like now that I took my own shit out on Braughton, I feel pretty complete. Like I checked one of the last boxes off my list. I wasn’t completely honest with the prick before I sent him straight to Hell.
He said he didn’t want this life. I told him I did.
The truth is…I really don’t anymore. I never truly had a choice in the matter, and I still don’t. But it’s the cards I’ve been dealt.
Luck. Of. The. Irish.
Be that as it may, though…I still have a box to check off. I’m not complete just yet. I pulled my phone out and flipped through a couple pictures I managed to take of Seven in her pretty night thingie. And then I set off to rewatch her dozens of social media posts, answering all the burning questions about the mortuary business from people that are…dying…to know. Haha…see what I did there?
“I didn’t—m-mean to. I swear, if y-you just—”
Can I just be real? I can deal with a lot of smells, but piss? Especiallyterrifiedpiss? That shit just gives me a headache. I mean…it could be because I’m really lacking on my sleep, and it’s way too fucking early in the morning to be dealing with this shit, but…it’s not the first time I’ve had this issue. I really…really, hate piss. And this guy has it in spades.
“I believe you, mate. Truly, I do. But sadly, I don’t make the rules. I go where I’m told for one reason, and one reason only. If the big guy says your card is punched, then…it’s prettypunched. Last chance to do it with some dignity. I’m on a bit of a tight schedule.”
This is Robert Maulden. Robert borrowed some money that he’s had a hard time paying back. It’s not that I don’t feel for the guy. He’s got a gambling problem. But he had warnings. Several of ‘em, that cost him two of his fingers now, and the gold tooth he let me pull out with a pair of pliers just for the sake of having an extra month to come up with the rest. Wasn’t my call. I was taking out orders for Pop then, too. I’m a sympathetic guy…sometimes. Today, he’s caught me in kind of a mood. The longer I sit here dragging this out, the less time I have to play super spy on my little daydream. That simply won’t do.
“C-can’t you just…take another finger?”
I sighed and my shoulders sagged. “Dude, do you not get it? If your plan is to pay in body parts we can’t do shite with, you owe enough for a whole body, anyway. You’re a dead man no matter how you look at it. Now can we please get on with it? Or am I gonna have to gag you?”
“Please! Malek, please!”
“Gag you it is.”
