by J Bree
He scratches at the shadow on his cheek from where he hasn’t been able to shave. I should really get some supplies for him if he’s going to be staying at my house.
Is he going to be staying at my house?
My mind is still struggling to focus on the important issues and not just my issues when he continues, “Cara felt too guilty about Ma. She attempted three times before she finally killed herself over it. So your file is good… but not a hundred percent.”
I tilt my head and shrug. “I can live with that… in your case. I have Roxas’s history down perfectly though, I made sure of that. I don’t trust anyone who sold themselves to a member of the Twelve without a good reason. Harbin I can see… Roxas not so much.”
Aodhan shrugs. “They’re best friends. Blaise would follow Ash into anything right?”
I snort, totally unlike me and his eyebrows just about hit his hairline. “Blaise committed murder for Ash as a stupid teenager. Helped him hide a body too, he’d follow Ash into the gates of Hell if I left them both unattended… there’s a reason I was only comfortable leaving them now that Lips is around to rein them in a bit.”
He grins and looks out of the window again. He’s waiting for that boat to be gone but I don’t know why.
I reach out and hold his hand. “I’m sorry about your sister. I’m sorry your family is just as broken as mine.”
He squeezes my hand and lifts it up to my lips to press a kiss on my palm, the move I’m sure he knows melts me. “You’re building a much stronger family. I’m glad you’ve let me be in it. Cara died years ago but it still hurts the same to know I failed her. I’m not going to fail anyone close to me like that again, Queenie. I’m not going to let men live who hurt my family.”
I smile again but my skin is still tingling in the worst way, like electricity is trapped in my veins and I’m being burned alive. “This has been… lovely, but I need to go home. Illi wasn’t joking about—“
Aodhan reaches across to grab my chin and kisses me, slow and deep until maybe the electricity settles down for a second.
It won’t leave though.
Not even for him.
“You need to break something, right? That’s what Illi said, you need to destroy something. How about a little vengeance, Queenie? Would that calm your nerves done?”
My eyes flutter open and I find the clear green of his irises shining down at me as he watches me closely for my reaction. I have to clear my throat to get my words to come out, “There’s nothing better than destroying someone’s life, especially if they’ve hurt my family. You should probably know that I’m ruthless by now, Aodhan. There’s not a whole lot that I wouldn’t do to keep my family safe and whole.”
A soft smile stretches over his lips. “Oh, I know Queenie. I think your blood running down my thighs proved that to me. This isn’t about your family though. This is about you. This is about getting vengeance for someone daring to touch you.”
He glances back at the boat but it’s still in sight. So, he slides past the steering wheel and across the bench seat until he’s in the middle, tugging me up and over until I’m straddling him.
There’s a tiny bit of panic in me at the position, but he tugs me down to his lips again and chases away the guilt with his tongue. I can’t help but bite his lip, desperate to break something, to destroy everything around me until the chaos in my chest dissipates.
He grunts and yanks me into his chest tighter, one hand slipping down to grab my ass and pulling at my hips until he can grind on me like we’re a pair of normal teenagers making out past our curfew.
I could forget myself in his arms. I think I could even forget the panic, but I can’t forget his words and I pull away from his lips to say, “Tell me what we’re doing here, I don’t like secrets.”
He smirks at me. “You love secrets, you just want to collect them for yourself. We’re here because I have a shipping container in storage in the warehouse over there and I just need the coast to be clear before we go over there. Lots of eyes down this way, lots of old loyalties we don’t want to fuck with.”
I nod slowly and he grins at me. “I have my uncle chained to a chair in the shipping container. I can kill him for you or you can do it for yourself, either way he dies today for what he did to you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Aodhan
I pull the door to the warehouse open and the light streams into the space in a wedge that only touches a pair of scuffed up boots.
I was very careful about keeping Diarmuid in a dark little hole that he couldn’t climb out of. I hold Avery’s hand as her eyes adjust to the darkness but I know the moment she can make out the outline of my uncle in the dark.
He looks a little worse for wear.
Jack and a couple of our other cousins went after him when we finally got word of where he’d been hiding and they’d taken a sadistic sort of pleasure at being able to bring him in. He was already profusely bleeding by the time I laid eyes on him.
Plugging those wounds up hurt me.
I wanted nothing more than to just sit there and watch him bleed out but this isn’t about me. This is about Avery getting some fucking closure because Diarmuid is the reason the Jackal got her in that room. Without that two-timing asshole there was no way the Jackal would have gotten past the Wolf and her family.
No fucking way.
Harley would die for Avery without hesitation. It’s the reason I was always so curious about the Beaumonts because one day he got out of juvie and Liam was served with court papers saying he no longer had custody. It was only after he paid off a judge and got a few weeks over the summer holidays that we found out he had billionaire cousins. I’d thought there had to be money motivators for them to want him because Iris never saw her sister, Éibhear never had anything good to say about them either, and who the fuck would want to take on the angry little Mounty boy who spent half his time stealing cars and beating anyone that looked sideways at him?
Jack and I followed him up to that big school of his out of curiosity and one look at the Beaumonts was all it took to see they loved him. He walked through the gates and every kid there standing around with their parents stared at him like he was a god. It made no fucking sense to us until the twins showed up with their friend tagging along and then accepted him into the fold, Avery hanging off of his neck for a hug in a pair of heels no fourteen-year-old girl had any right wearing so easily.
From that moment on I knew he’d be okay.
I just had to get rid of Liam and Domhnall and all of the other toxic men in our family to break the cycle of abuse and keep the kids safe from the evils of their fathers.
A few of the women too.
The integrity and loyalty in Avery Beaumont is second to none and I don’t know what the hell I did to get her attention but I’ll do fucking anything to keep it.
I reach over and very carefully push a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear securely.
“Have you danced since your feet healed?” I pitch my voice low but even if Diarmuid hears me he can’t interrupt with the gag in his mouth.
She shakes her head. “Not— not properly. I’ve done practice and some warm ups but I haven’t really pushed myself, I’ve been too busy with my work.”
I nod and thread my fingers through hers, not even the slightest tremble in her as she takes in the mangled sight of our prisoner. “Dance for me? When we’re done here, I want to watch you.”
She startles and then nods, a small smile curling up the edges of her mouth. “I have a studio back at my house. With the gym, down by the pool house. I haven’t shown you down there… I don’t think you’ve made it past the fridge?”
The little sly grin on her face while she snarks playfully at me is fucking perfect and I can’t help but play back at her, even with Diarmuid sitting there waiting to die. “Forgive me, Queenie, you’ll have to draw me a map to get down there.”
The smirk on her face grows, her eyes glowing up at me eve
n in the dark and it strikes me again just how fucking gorgeous she really is. How the fuck someone like her might be interested in someone like me… fucking confusing but I’m not a man to let a good thing go and she might just be the fucking best thing.
Even with her obsession with that fucking asshole the Crow, she’s still going to be the best fucking thing that ever happened to me and I don’t give a fuck who I have to kill for her.
It’s going to hurt a whole lot to give this kill over to her but I will.
“So how are you going to do this, Queenie? Do you want a knife, baseball bat? I’d offer you a gun but that’s not all that smart in this tiny room.”
She blinks at me. And then she blinks some more. Finally, she finds her voice, “There is absolutely no fucking way that I’m swinging a bat at that man. I’ve managed to go nineteen years without knowing what that looks like and I’d like to keep that streak going, thank you very much.”
I shrug. “Knife it is. Did you bring yours or do you want to borrow one of mine? I don’t usually let people touch my shit but I’ll make an exception for you.”
She rolls her eyes at me but it’s a fucking cute gesture. “No, idiot, I’m not going to be doing this killing at all. I’m glad you tracked him down but I want to smash some plates and tear the carpet in my bedroom up… not crack a skull open and be covered in blood. I have people for that kind of thing, I don’t do it myself.”
Huh.
I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I know she hates blood and anything gross but there’s always been a ruthless edge to her, a cut-throat nature about her that I always thought she’d need his death for herself.
I totally misjudged bringing her here but he has to die today. “The longer I leave him tied up like this the more chances there are for shit to go wrong. I need to take care of it if you don’t want to. I didn’t want to take this away from you after what he did.”
She reaches out to squeeze my hand. “I don’t need to kill him. That’s very sweet of you but knowing that he’s dead is more than enough for me. I can go wait out in the car.”
I smirk and grab her elbow as she turns away from me. “Queenie, there’s no way you can go wait out in the car for me down here. You’ll get fucking kidnapped and ransomed and then the Wolf would come down here breathing fire like she wants to burn the entire fucking city to the ground.”
She smirks and shrugs because I’m saying nothing but solid truth. “So you want me to just… stand here and watch? I’m not going to do that. I honestly can’t think of anything worse, do you have any idea how rare these shoes are? Hand crafted by artisans with only the finest leather, there’s no way I’m going to let you get blood all over them. No way, O’Cronin.”
I shrug and walk over to the far side of the container, enjoying the snarl that Diarmuid forced out of his mouth around the gag. There’s a small collection of weapons and some supplies for cleaning up. I’d made sure to have a full plastic body suit for Avery in case she wanted to do the kill herself but was worried about the mess.
Who am I kidding?
Of course, she’d be worried about the mess.
I grab the spare folding chair and one of the plastic sheets because I doubt she’s going to be all that happy to sit on the seat without one. I get it set up for her as close to the door as I can, waiting until she sits down and gets as comfortable as she can on the cold metal, and then I kiss her.
“If you get blood on me, I will murder you in your sleep, O’Cronin. The Wolf isn’t the only one hiding in the shadows,” she murmurs with that same playful smirk.
I lean down and kiss her again, one last time before I get to work, ignoring Diarmuid’s grunts behind us both at the display. “You can kill me anytime, Queenie, you know that.”
Chapter Fifteen
I sit on the small chair and text Lips back while Aodhan deals with Diarmuid.
The sounds aren’t so bad now I’m more accustomed to this sort of thing and I don't watch him work, my eyes and attention staying focused entirely on my phone as I give her the details of everything happening here.
She’s very impressed with Aodhan’s work ethic and the way he kept to his word.
Tell him I want the fingers. It’ll be a good companion to Annabelle’s hand.
I gag at the reminder that she even has that disgusting jar stashed in her bag at all times to ward off the panicked feeling she has about Harley’s near-miss with that jealous little whore.
Disgusting. Any specific finger or whichever ones take Aodhan’s fancy?
Diarmuid’s boots make a squeaking noise against the steel bottom of the shipping container as he struggles, the grunts of his coming from behind the gag sound frenzied and enraged but that is quite soothing for me.
Does he have bolt cutters handy? I want both his trigger fingers, Illi can pickle them for me.
Again, I gag except this time Aodhan hears and takes notice. “How are you doing over there, Queenie? We can go get some air if you want.”
I shake my head but keep my eyes where they are. “Lips is being gross, she wants his trigger fingers and she wants him to feel them come off. Apparently bolt cutters are the most efficient method of removal, do we have any spare or should I call Illi?”
The squeaking of the boots comes to an abrupt halt.
Clearly the Irish shooter still thought there was a chance of his making it out of here alive but there’s no way he’d be able to function without being able to work.
No fingers, no sniper.
“I’ve got it covered. Don’t you worry about it, Queenie, just keep your eyes on your work.”
I nod my head and thumb my way through some of Amanda Donnelley’s financial records that I’ve been sent by one of my contacts. He’s not as good as the Coyote but I’m conscious of the fact that Jackson lied to us all about Nate and I don’t want to start relying on him for absolutely everything.
I zone out as I read the files over and over again to find something, anything, that is a clue for what the hell her deal is… where she gets her power, what it is about her that makes Atticus sweat.
I’ll admit his reaction to her has made the entire endeavor personal.
I hear the muffled screaming and the crunching noise of the bolt cutters but, after swallowing the bile back down my throat, I push it all away and use the time wisely. I have a phone full of pressing issues that need my attention and there are never enough hours in the day to get through it all.
I’m so focused on what I’m doing, and so trusting of Aodhan, that I don’t know exactly when Diarmuid dies, only that the thumping sound his body makes when Aodhan unties it from the chair startles me out of my work.
“Sorry, Queenie, I didn’t mean to scare you. Rigor mortis makes it a bitch to move them if I left him up there while I got you home,” he murmurs and I shrug.
I carefully repack my purse and stand up, keeping my back to what I’m sure is a blood-soaked mess behind me.
There’s some movement and grunting behind me and then Aodhan walks up beside me with his jacket zipped all the way up. His hands are a little bloody as are his jeans but the jacket is clean.
“I’ll get you home and then I’ll call Illi to help me get rid of the body… he had some suggestions for the disposal.”
I roll my eyes because of course the Butcher wants to get creative with Diarmuid’s final resting place, just to make sure it isn’t all that restful. It’s exactly what the traitor deserves too, after what he did to betray Lips and Harley, but I don’t really need to know about it.
I just need to know he got the job done. “He’s definitely dead? Where are the fingers? If you say you have them on you I’m probably going to need at least a month before you attempt to touch me again. How do you feel about sitting in a bathtub of bleach for an hour or so?”
He smirks at me and gestures for me to follow him out. I appreciate the distance he puts between us both because there is no fucking way I want to touch him right now.
I’ve hit m
y limit.
I’m confident enough in myself and the value I bring to any table to admit that. I don’t need to kill things just to stay relevant and keep my place as the Queen Aodhan and Illi keep insisting I am.
Aodhan seals the shipping container back up, snapping on a series of padlocks just to be sure we don’t get a missing body on our books, and then I follow him out into the sunlight.
I know as soon as we see the car that something is wrong. Aodhan pauses, his back stiff, and then he growls out a stream of vicious curses under his breath. I glance around him to find another photo of me with my eyes crossed out pinned to the side of the Impala, a knife sticking out from between my eyes in a clear threat.
Jesus H. Christ.
I glance around at the docks but there aren’t any security cameras in sight and Aodhan had been careful to make sure that we didn’t go in there until there was no one around so I can’t remember having seen any cars or homeless people.
Aodhan grabs the knife by the handle and yanks it out with a terrible screeching noise that only lasts a second but sends shivers down my spine regardless. He hands me the photo and then opens the car door, pausing for a second and then says, “Step back, Queenie. Lemme check there isn’t a fucking bomb on board before you get in.”
A bomb.
For fuck’s sake. I should have thought of that, especially after what happened to Harley’s Mustang back in junior year at Hannaford, but it’s as though my brain is still rattled from the entire mess of a day and I’m not thinking how I normally would be.
Aodhan crawls around the car on his belly until he's sure there’s nothing there and then he checks every possible crevice and corner of the interior before he lets me take my seat, a grim look on his face.
“I’ll call Illi once I’ve got you home safe. Are you sure the security there is legit? Nothing getting through it? Because this asshole is persistent, I’ll give the creepy fuck that,” he says as he pulls out of the parking lot and cuts through the slums to get me home through the quickest route.
