“What if I am? Did I not earn it as well as he earned his grand exit?”
“You know better, Malek. If you’d just asked, I woulda told you to take hiscock, if that’s what you wanted. Are you listening to me?” There was an awkward pause, and I could feel the spiders crawling up my spine. A clear indication I was being thoroughly checked out. And I had a feeling I knew exactly by whom.
“Who’s this?”
Fuck.
“She’s cleanin’ up ‘yer mess. Otherwise, none of ‘yer concern.” I watched his boots clop fully into my vision until he was close enough to smell his cologne. Leather, and sandalwood and a hint of cigarette smoke. I thought I might drool a little and have to clean up some of myownbiological material. “Malek.”
I was pretty fed the fuck up with being touched without my consent tonight, but strangely…the feel of his rough, calloused finger lifting my chin…didn’t bother me so much. I refused to actually look at him and I think it pressed on his nerves.
“So, you’re the reason I’m givin’ up somethin’ I’ve waited for. Forseven years.”
He waited for a guy’s finger? For almost a decade? That’s not fucking ludicrous at all.
His accent wasn’t nearly as thick as his boss. Somehow it made it hotter. I tried not to inwardly cringe at the amountof time he said he waited. Damn my mother and her need for a ‘name that means something.’ It’s just a number. I’m good. This is fine. I’m fine.
“Enough, Malek. Leave ‘er alone. Give it up and make ‘yerself scarce. I’ll deal with you later.”
His finger remained under my chin, lifting it a little higher and he chuckled under his breath. Not gonna lie…I got chills down my back for a wholly different reason. It’s been a while, okay? We listen and we don’t judge. “You afraid of me, sweetheart?”
Well, that ruined it. That’s something only old, leathery perverts say to pretty young women. Gross. It prompted me to break my own rules for no other reason than to glare at the bastard. I wish I hadn’t. Those eyes were as green as Ireland itself. He had a barbell in one eyebrow, and a lip ring. A tiny four-leaf clover tattooed under his eye—how mysterious. And original. But I’d be the biggest fucking liar if I told you he wasn’t absolutely devastating.
“No,” I croaked out. “It’s late and I still have hours of work to do. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop touching me and let me get on with it.” He smiled and my knees threatened to give out. I fought that shit with everything I had. The pad of his thumb grazed my lower lip, and I snapped my teeth, causing him to jerk back and the Boss and my escort to snicker.
“Bleedin’ Christ.Nathair Bheag…”
Whatever the fuck that means. But they laughed again. I steeled myself and watched him reach into his pocket—his pocket—and pull out that severed finger. He teetered it between his thumb and pointer and pulled a bloody gold wedding band off of it before reaching for my gloved hand and turning it palm up. I don’t get grossed out by body parts. But…something about the way that finger hit my glove made me wanna throw up. We stared at each other for another handful of seconds, but tome…could have been a lifetime. He’s pissed at me. I feel like I just landed myself in the middle of something that I could have avoided if I’d just kept my fucking mouthclosed.
“Well? Get on with it, then.” He had the side smile of the Devil himself, and turned on his heel, striding out the door without another word. Something feels extremely heavy on me. Like he’s still looking over every inch of me from down the hall. I don’t like it, but I’m feigning confidence now.
I dropped the finger on top of the body and started wrapping it. I think I stopped giving a shit whether anyone else was in the room or not. At this juncture, I just wanna leave. It’s a long drive back, too…and I do have work to do tomorrow. It’s pretty clear I’m not getting any sleep tonight. I’ll have to feed caffeine through an IV while I’m working on the next house guest. Boss did as he promised, though. A few men filtered in and out of the room and packed up the hearse for me, and I did my last touch-up before leaving. He was totally understanding and polite about the rug, and even more so aboutMalek. I got apologized to more than once before I was finally on the road back home. I damn myself for paying close attention just as much as I praise myself for it. My steering wheel was taking the brunt of the frustration the whole drive back.
Boss had tried to shake my hand before leaving, thanking me for my patience and my immaculate work. As I’d still had my gloves on, I politely declined, and he understood…but not before I glanced at a tattoo he had in the same place as Mr. Nightshade.
A crown with a Celtic cross in the middle.
I was right about what I’dhopedI wasn’t right about…I just cleaned for the fucking Irishmob.
CHAPTER 2
The Executioner
She’s an absolutely beautiful, pain in the ass nightmare with the smarts of a numerical wizard, the patience of a toddler, the body of a goddess and a heart made out of a paper bag full of dog shit that’s been set on fire. She gets every damn thing she wants, and I wish I could say it was solely from the big dog himself…but I’m just as fucking guilty. All she has to do is poke that painted lip out and I turn into feral mush and go hunting for whatever poor bastard broke her heart this week. And by break her heart, I mean…he didn’t get the right almonds at the convenience store and unwittingly signed his own death warrant.
Bridget is the little sister nobody wants, but the one I got condemned with. I love her fiercely, and she’s lucky I do…or I would’ve buried her in pieces years ago. She’s a five-foot, four-inch ball of fire with an attitude that rivals mine and—luck of the Irish—the onlygirlborn into the darkest part of the world. Did I get a brother to help me tame the wild beast? No. We lost Mom during childbirth with Bridget, and Pop never remarried. He likely won’t. One female barking orders and jerking his leash is enough. But damn, I’m getting way too numb to taking a life on her behalf. When she sees red, it’s over. And there’s no talking her out of it or convincing her that it’s the fiery color of her hair obstructing her good sense. He’s a dead man, and she’s not getting her tiny hands dirty.
Earlier today, I strung up her flavor of the week by his bowels for taking her out to a dinner that made Bridget’stummyhurt. Yes, it’s that petty and ridiculous. Pop said to take care of it…so I did. That’s usually how it goes. The brat doesn’t even ask me anymore. She goes straight to Daddy and stomps her little feet until she inevitably gets her way. The poor guy didn’t even see it coming. From what I understand, she didn’t even break things off before she decided the bell was ringing for this kid’s life. It’s been heavily stressed that it’s not my place to question it, so at this point…I don’t anymore.
I’ve barely been in the shower for five minutes and I can hear my bedroom door putting up a fight against her fist. It’s always the same. She’s got the bloodlust of a starving vampire. She wants to see the pictures I’m forced to take of every body I drop for her and…like the sweet big brother I am, I didn’t immediately seek her out when I got back to the house. How dare I rid myself of this guy’s innards before serving her dessert before dinner? I toweled off and shrugged on a pair of jeans before opening the bathroom door to see her tearing through my phone, sitting cross-legged on my bed.
“I thought he’d make a prettier corpse. What a dipshit.” Her bare feet swayed in the air behind her while she stretched out on her stomach, completely engrossed in a senseless murder. I tried to contain my insufferable eye roll, lest she go back and tell Daddy about that too, and finished drying my hair. “Why didn’t you come get me? I’ve been waiting for hours. You didn’t text me back either, and don’t say you never got it.” She turned her snarky head in my direction and the phone with it. “It’s right here.”
“Bridget, it might not ever occur to you that we have more shit to deal with sometimes than whoever ‘pished you off today.” I grit my teeth when I turned away and started rummaging through my wardrobe for a shirt. I’ve waited years to take a literal whack at the company we have coming tonight, and fuck if I’m gonna let her ruin this for me.
“What’s gotyournuts in a knot?”
“The O’Dell’s. They’ll be here in less than an hour. You got what you wanted. Get outta my room.”
