“You bastard,” she gritted out, gripping the tote bag tighter.
“So…back to Jamie?” He cocked his head. “Inmyfucking yard? After I warned you?”
“He’s been helping,” she snapped. “Because unlike you, he actually gives a shit about Harry’s legacy. This place doesn’t run on its own, Niall. The money for all the cocaine you hoover up your nose? It comes from work. Something you wouldn’t recognise if it punched you in the fucking face.”
Her patience frayed, but her voice shook anyway.
“Jesus, Niall,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back. To scatter Harry’s ashes.”
His hair flopped over his forehead, hiding his brows, but she could still see the emptiness behind his eyes. The constant sniffing, the twitching. He was a hand grenade, ready to explode.
“He’s dead, Shannon.” Niall’s lips twisted intosomething between a grin and a sneer. “I don’t give a fuck what happens to his ashes. It’s all bullshit, anyway. You really think they clean out the burners between corpses? Could be anyone in that urn. A lovely little cocktail of dead fuckers.”
His laugh was quiet, almost gleeful.
Then his shoulders lifted in a lazy, dismissive shrug as if he hadn’t just spat on the last shred of something sacred.
“You’re sick in the head, Niall.”
He grinned, pinching his nostrils from the last hit.
“Gracie’s quite the little good girl,” he said, voice oily. “She’s been watching you for months now. Keeps me updated between shots and stories. Likes the party life as much as I do. Might even share this with her later.”
He jabbed the key into the bag again, scooping another mound of powder. One long sniff and it disappeared, leaving him snorting and blinking through watering eyes.
“Jesus,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t realise Bucky had his fingers on the pulse. Quality shit.”
Shannon’s skin crawled.
“Your father’s ashes, Niall,” she snapped, heat rising to her cheeks. “We need to honour his wishes. Do you even care? Or was it you? Did you ram the limo?”
The question tasted like acid, but she had to ask.
He clucked his tongue, like she’d disappointed him.
“Oh, you’dloveto pin that on me, wouldn’t you?” He cocked his head, amused. “Why the fuck would I kill myda? He was my primary source of cash. What kind of dumb bitch thinks I’d do that?”
Another trail of powder vanished up his nose.
“What part ofstay away from McGrathdid you not understand?”
Her hands balled into fists, nails biting into her palms. Fury burned through her chest like wildfire.
“Go to hell, Niall,” she spat. “You’re fucked up. And jealousy makes you even uglier.”
He smiled. Slow. Creepy. Confident in all the worst ways. It made her jaw tick with rage.
“Jealous?” he repeated. “Of the guy who’s using you? Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve already been there with you, sweetheart. I got there first.”
The words hit like a slap. Vile. Violent.
“You’re pathetic,” she bit out, gaze darting behind his head, worried what would happen next.
Whatever scraps of decency he’d once held to were long gone. If anything good had ever existed inside him, it had vanished behind whatever dark thing now lived within him.
“You know the horses are mine now, right?” he said, tone light. “I can do whatever the fuck I want with them. And Trixie? Yeah, she’s not up for sale anymore.”
He ran his tongue along his gums, watching her like he was chewing her apart inside his mind.
