Page 49 of Arranged Devotion
“Okay, okay,” he says desperately. “I know… he had help. I heard him bragging about it. I don’t know what he took… but he couldn’t get the information on his own. Please, that’s everything!”
“Huh.” I sit back in genuine surprise. I had no clue there’s another traitor. That means whoever helped Kieren is probably still working at the construction firm. “That’s helpful.”
“Please… call an ambulance… leave me here… I won’t tell anyone. I swear I won’t!”
“Here’s the thing though, Peter. Remember earlier? When I told you my name? You had to have realized what would happen the second you heard it, right?”
“No… no… please!”
I cut his throat. It brings me as much pleasure as slicing open an Amazon package. Except this is much bloodier. Peter gurgles and kicks, making a damn fucking mess. I step back and watch him expire, which is the least I can do.
Peter the Butcher deserved worse, if I’m honest with myself. He’s done some shitty things if what I’ve heard is remotely true. And if it’s not? He earned that nicknamesomehow, and I doubt it’s because he’s good at making sandwiches and roasting pork.
“Pain in my ass,” I mutter, kicking his corpse once he stops thrashing.
Blood business, this whole murder-and-torture stuff, but at least I got a lead.
Peter’s big,dead body takes a while to deal with. I’m tired when I get home pushing three in the morning. It’s dead on the streets. I’m thinking about traitors, about information sieving through my family’s fingers, about dead Russians, when I stop in the middle of the lobby and turn to my left.
She’s curled up on a couch asleep.
Well, fuck. I should leave her. Whatever Regan’s doing here, it isn’t good. That girl only ever shows up at my place when there’s hell to pay.
Or for very good sex.
Mostly sex so far.
With a breath, I kneel down beside her and give her shoulder a gentle shake.
This is the second person I’ve woken up tonight.
Her eyes blink at me. Big, beautiful eyes. “Liam.” She sits up, pulling away. “Shit. Was I asleep?”
“You were indeed.”
“Fuck. What time is it?” She checks her phone and groans. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t be here this late.”
“How long were you out for?”
“A few hours. It doesn’t matter.” She squints at me, mouth pulling tight as she takes me in. “Is that blood?”
I look down at myself. “Probably. Where?”
“On your sleeve. And in your hair. Liam, you’re a mess. What’s going on?” She fusses at me like she’s looking for a wound.
I let her search me. Weirdly, I like the attention. I like that she’s worried. Once she figures out it’s not my blood, she gets all stuck up about it.
“I was on a job.” I brush at my sleeve. The front desk guard isn’t paying us any attention. He knows better than to notice when I’m around.
“Sometimes I forget what you do for a living.” She stiffens and shuffles away before pushing to her feet. “This was a mistake.”
“Don’t act like I’m the one who invited you over.”
“Right, you’re totally right. I should leave.”
“Wait.” What am I doing? Shut up, Liam, shut your mouth. “It’s late. Let me take you home at least.”
She hesitates, eyes flicking to the door. “I don’t know.”
