by J Bree
I nod and pick the photo back up to look it over, swallowing down the bile in my throat. “Jackson redid the entire property this time, there’s no way anyone can get through it. Aodhan… this photo is from the gala.”
His jaw is tense like he’s grinding his teeth. “I know, Queenie. Whoever is doing is fucking stalking you and I’m not gonna let that shit fly. I’ll check over that mansion of yours and then I’ll go hunting. There’re a few leads I can try and I’m sure Illi will have an idea of where to go next. Have you told the Wolf about this yet?”
It’s strange that he always reverts to calling her by her street name but I nod. “I’ve been keeping her updated. I… gloss over it a bit more with the guys. Harley has already commented on how hard it’s been to keep Ash on the tour and if he found out that the photos are new ones and not just high school?”
Aodhan nods. “You’d be wrapped up in bubble wrap the moment he got back.”
I nod and fuss with my purse, just little soothing movements that settle my nerves down enough that the need to scream doesn’t overwhelm me. “The whole point of me staying behind was to find myself… and to prove to myself that I don’t need to hide behind my brother. If he comes running back here now then it’s all been for nothing.”
When we get back to the mansion Aodhan pulls up outside the front gate while I call the Coyote to review the security cameras before we go in. We’re both being extra cautious because the Jackal certainly taught us that lesson in the worst way and there’s no way I’m being kidnapped by some psycho again.
Once we have the all clear I direct him to park right at the front door in the spot Illi usually uses. With the electric gate shut and the sensors all on I should feel safe but when Aodhan helps me out of the car the hole from the stalker’s knife is like a morbid reminder that someone really has set their sights on me.
I just don’t know if they want me dead or just scared but neither are happening anytime soon.
Aodhan goes straight upstairs to call Illi and shower in my bathroom to clean his uncle’s blood from his body.
I don’t think about it at all.
I know that I’m the only one who hasn’t cleaned the blood of my victims off of myself here, Lips and the guys have all cleaned themselves up wherever the last couple of years, but I’ve only scrubbed myself raw from my own blood. It makes some kind of cosmic sense that Aodhan would be up there in my ensuite using my soaps and shampoos to scrub away the mess he’d made of Diarmuid on my behalf.
I go down to the studio and get changed into my ballet gear. My leotard and tights are a little looser than they should be and I make a note to get back to eating more regularly now I’m not keeping to the guys’ eating schedule. Harley never failed to keep me eating every three or so hours thanks to his high metabolism. It takes a lot of calories to be as jacked as he is.
I wince as I put my feet into the pointe shoes, cursing under my breath as useless tears fill my eyes. They hurt more than they should to go in and there’s a good chance I’m not going to be able to dance as well as I could before the Jackal burned me.
I stretch out for twice as long as I would normally just to be sure I’m ready to move my body without risking my body any more than necessary. I run through one of my old routines slowly, testing to see which of my muscles feel tight and which are more sore than they were previously.
Before the Jackal had taken me and damaged my feet, I was working through the routines required to dance as Aurora in ‘Sleeping Beauty’. I didn’t have any grand plans of becoming a professional dancer, I don’t want to be some pretty thing for rich men to covet, but the idea of never being able to push my body like this again is terrifying.
I need to dance and feel the burning of my muscles the same way that Ash needs to run until he loses feeling in his legs. We need to push our bodies into feeling something so we don’t drown in the overwhelmingly crushing doom of our lives.
I take a deep breath and I start.
It hurts but I push on, holding my core and watching my form, counting in my brain to shift my focus away from the pain. Lips taught me all about that. There are three different languages that I can work through if I need to although it’s been a while since I had to use Russian.
I make it through the first act before I pause and find Aodhan sitting on the floor, leaning against the mirror there with one leg bent up and his arm resting on top like this is just a regular occurrence for him.
The look in his eyes makes my breath catch in my throat.
Breath control is something a dancer always has to work on and I try to hide the effect he’s having on me but the smirk that stretches over his lips is telling.
“No one has ever looked that fucking good in a tutu before, Queenie. That shit should be illegal… I can’t believe your brother was okay with you dancing in it.”
I roll my eyes and walk over to him, slipping my shoes off before stretching. Okay, slipping isn’t the right word for describing the torture of pulling them off of my battered and scarred feet but I’m trying to look effortless and elegant. I don’t look down at the state they’re in and, thankfully, Aodhan doesn’t either.
He’s too busy eyeing off every inch of my body in the leotard. It’s tight enough that it fits like a second skin and if I weren’t wearing the tights with it there wouldn’t be all that much covering the apex of my thighs.
“He’s not my keeper. I listen to what he says about my safety but he doesn’t ever have a say on what I wear. He knows it and you better know it too.”
His smirk gets wider and his eyes finally land on mine as he grabs my hand and tugs me over to him until I’m straddling his lap. “Why would I complain? I get to see you in this and that’s something I’m not fucking around with.”
It was easier back in the Impala to be this close to him because my mind was so chaotic. Now that I’ve burned some of the energy off, I don’t know what the hell to do. Should I loop my arms around his neck and kiss me until we both forget about the photo and the corpse back in the shipping container and just fuck on the floor of my studio?
Shit.
“Aren’t you supposed to be going back to the docks with Illi? What are you doing back down here?”
He groans and pulls me in close. “I got distracted, I can see your nipples through this thing and fuck if it doesn’t make me hungry for you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how your skin might taste or how sweet your pussy must be. I’ve never spent so long obsessing over anything in my life and then I come down here to say goodbye and you’re twirling around like a wet dream. Game over, if you hadn’t stopped when you did, I was probably going to get started without you.”
His hips lift up and grind into me until I can feel every inch of his very interested dick sliding along my pussy through the layers of fabric between us. I choke back a moan, because I’ve messed around with guys before but none of them had shown any interest in eating me out and I’m very interested in trying it out.
Lips doesn’t tell me a thing about her sex life at my own request, because gross, but I’ve heard the screaming that comes out of her bedroom here and the guys’ room back at Hannaford and I want that.
I want to forget I’m supposed to be quiet.
I want to come so hard everyone knows it’s happening.
I want to feel that smug sort of satisfaction that you get when you’re wanted and loved and worshiped by the person you’re with.
I haven’t had that yet. Sure, I came both times I had sex, even when I wasn’t supposed to but there was no afterglow or worship happening. Only fear and jealousy and desperation.
Aodhan groans and pulls me forward more. I assume he’s going to kiss me and make good on his words, spread me out and give me the experience I want, but then his hand moves to fish around in his pocket until he has his phone in his fist.
He answers with a snarl, “I’m busy, I’ll call you back.”
I raise an eyebrow at him when he frowns and huffs down the line,
“It can wait… fuck it, I’ll do time… this is worth it… fuck, fine. Fine, I’m on my way. I’d kill the cunt all over again if I could.”
Great.
I’m still not getting what I want or need. I might as well be a fucking pariah at how this is going. I slump down until my forehead is resting on his shoulder, inhaling low and slow, enjoying the smell of my soap on his skin mixing with the aftershave he uses.
Am I going to have to make it happen for myself? Am I going to have to sit him down and explain exactly what I want just to get a chance at it?
Christ.
I don’t have time in my life for that.
“I don’t want to go, Queenie, and if it weren't about your safety I wouldn’t. Just as soon as I find this fucking cunt coming after you, I’ll never leave again.”
I nod and stand up. I can get in some more practice, enough to burn the frustration out of me that I don’t want to admit is entirely sexual. He grabs my wrist and pulls me in to kiss me again, his tongue tangling with mine until that frustration is at an all-time high.
“Leave now, O’Cronin, before the Butcher comes down here and makes you his problem,” I mumble against his lips and he groans at me.
I’m saying it for me because if he doesn’t leave now, I might just beg and that’s not going to happen.
I’ve never been the type.
Chapter Sixteen
Aodhan and Illi find nothing.
No witnesses, no evidence, no signs of foul play except the knife itself. I’m pissed but not at all surprised. Aodhan returns home for the night to check in with Jack and his leads on what the hell is going on and I find myself once again alone in my stunningly empty mansion.
The next morning I’m sitting in the basement staring at the wall of photos and red string lines connecting them when my security alarm is triggered then disabled. I check my phone and find Illi unlocking my front door, wiping his feet on the doormat politely, and then opening the staircase up to stomp down the stairs towards me. He doesn’t even try to look elsewhere, he knows that this place has become an obsession for my waking hours.
“I brought coffee and a whole new set of ‘what the fuck is going on’ for us to figure the hell out,” he says, handing a cup over to me and sitting on the chaise next to me.
I murmur a quiet ‘thank you’ and take a sip.
I fucking miss Lips.
No one makes my coffee like she does.
I smile at him and turn a little so I’m facing him, crossing my ankles and grabbing my phone out of my pocket so it’s close by for whatever the hell is going on now.
Illi rubs a hand over scruff on his cheeks and then nods at the photo wall. “How are you feeling about the Graves kids? Anything flag for you yet?”
I groan. “No, nothing. I went through their records and had a contact run their bloodwork to attempt to find the missing sibling but nothing has come up yet. The entire MC is a mess of old rivalries, betrayals, and business deals gone wrong. The only ones up there who aren’t a mess are Wyatt, the cop, and Noah because he’s dead and it’s hard to be a pain in my ass when you’re already in the ground.”
Illi chuckles at my snotty attitude, then he sighs and I know I’m not going to like what comes out of his mouth next. “We’re going for a drive today. I got a call last night about a job. I’ve been taking a few little things on now D’Ardo is gone, just so long as they’re close to home, and I got a call for something right up our alley.”
I sip at the coffee and wave a hand at him. “Please tell me we’re meeting with someone about killing Donnelley because she fucked the wrong governor? I’d really love that.”
He chuckles at me. “No. Colt Graves called me for a hit. You wanna meet another one of Lips’ brothers, get a read on him for yourself?”
I turn to face him fully. “A hit? Why the hell would he need you to do the killing for him, he’s a biker? I’m very intimate with his rap sheet, I can list the whole damn thing to you, he doesn’t need you killing for him.”
Illi shrugs and points at the wall of photos. “Maybe he needs that brother of his taken out? I dunno, but I doubt this is a trap. I haven’t heard from him in years but the last time we saw each other… there wasn’t bad blood between us. I wouldn’t be inviting you along for the ride if I had doubts about this, Queenie.”
I nod, because I know he would never risk my life like that, but this still feels… wrong.
We’re missing something here.
Illi glances around. “Is O’Cronin not around here? Did you finally convince him to leave you alone for a minute? If he’s annoying you just lemme know. I’ll skin him for you.”
I shake my head at him, ignoring him cackling at my expense. “I thought you only let your friends call you Illi? Should I be worried?”
He grins and shrugs. “You know it’s different for you girls. They might all be family but if one of these dumbass boys steps out on you or does something else fucking stupid? I’ll kill them, no questions asked.”
It’s psychotic and very sweet and after growing up with Ash, that’s my favorite mix.
I do feel compelled to reply, “I can kill them for myself but thank you. I’m glad the dumbass boys that Lips is with are all obsessed with her.”
He scoffs at me and stands up, stretching his back out until it pops. “The Irishman who keeps coming around here is just as obsessed. The Crow too, he just has his head too far up his own ass to go about it the right way.”
I shrug and stand up with him, finishing the last of my coffee off. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want to fill my black book and sort out Lips’ twisted family tree. Let’s go meet with Graves and decide if the executioner’s block is calling his name.”
Illi waits for me to change clothes quickly. I’m conscious about wearing a white blazer over the navy dress, a beautiful pair of Manolos I’d happily have sold my soul for if I wasn’t able to cover the cost without even feeling it. I’m taking my role as the Wolf’s representative very seriously and as Lips always says, half of being a crime lord is reputation.
Mine is going to be impeccable.
Illi has brought his Mustang over for a change and he opens the door for me like always. I settle back in the passenger seat and text Lips to keep her updated. I can tell from her replies that she’s worried about this meeting, worried that Colt is going to be an asshole or, worse, a problem for us.
Ash and I had an entire childhood with Joey to know he deserved to die, that there was never going to be redemption for him. Lips has only had a few months even knowing that she has siblings, let alone navigating whether they’re decent people.
If they’re shit and they leave us alone then they can live.
If they pose a threat to any of us, they have to die.
I blow out a breath as Illi gets onto the highway and ask, “What’s your take on Colt? I know I’ve asked before but every time I ask you about him you remember something else. I don’t want to miss anything.”
Illi shrugs and curses under his breath at how bad the traffic is at this time of the day. “Well, the first time I met him was because I grabbed him off of the road. Actually, it’s the same place we’re meeting him today. I tortured him for a few days for information, he didn’t give anything up, but he did manage to break out of my workroom and find Odie.”
I hum under my breath. “So, he’s resourceful… I doubt you left him much to work with down there.”
“Honestly, I was a fucking mess back then.” Illi shrugs. “I’d only just gotten Odie back from the cartel, my mind wasn’t fucking good. I was probably sloppy about it but even after days of being carved up he got out and up into my apartment. Came face-to-face with Odie and instead of killing her or just fucking leaving, he offered to get her out. He took a look at how messed up she was and thought I was hurting her. I decided he wasn’t so bad when he tried to help her.”
Without being there I can’t say for sure if I also think he was trying to rescue Odie.
&nb
sp; Ash once told me of the games that Joey would play with the girls Senior would give him. He would tell them he was trying to rescue them from our father and then he’d help them run away to the guest house where he’d rape and murder them.
Senior only gave him girls when he did something ‘good’ so it’d only happened a handful of times but it was fucking awful.
Ash still has nightmares that it’s me or Lips trapped in that guesthouse with Joey.
Illi runs through the other short meetings with me. There’s nothing new to pick over but now that they’re fresh in my mind again I feel more ready to meet Colt. There’s less chance of me missing things now I have a little more of his background fresh in my mind.
We drive for over an hour until finally Illi pulls into a rest bay off of the highway. There’s no one else around and it looks as though not many people stop here. I move to get out but Illi shakes his head at me, slipping a tablet into my lap.
“Stay there. I’ve told him to get in the back seat, there’s a camera set up so you see his face and review the footage.”
I raise my eyebrows at him and he chuckles at me. “I’ve been taking your ideas on board! I got Jackson to rig it up for me, nearly fucking killed me to let the little cretin in my car but I know you like to obsess over the details.”
It’s sweet and the tablet is easy enough to work. We sit in silence together as we wait for Colt to arrive and the roar of his motorcycle is impossible to miss.
Nerves flutter in my belly. Meeting this brother of Lips’ that will change things. No matter what, Lips will want to deal with him.
The door opens and then the car bounces a little as it takes on the extra weight of another person sitting there.
I glance at the screen in front of me to find Lips’ brother in the backseat.
Heir of the Chaos Demons and eyes as fiercely unsettling as the Devil himself.
Colt Graves.
“Things have changed since I was last here.” He has the same southern accent as Poe does, that rough way of speaking that’s so different to the Cali girl of my own.
