Chapter 31
LEONORE
It’s close to midnight as I lean over an urgent job that arrived forty minutes ago. A man wearing dress pants, a silk shirt, and a pair of three-hundred-dollar shoes. He died in a nightclub skirmish between the Hayes and the Neros.
Two hours ago, he was a living, breathing man who didn’t realize the end was so brutally close. I can still smell the whiskey on his lips.
He didn’t stand a chance against his wounds. Two bullets. One in his neck. The other in his heart. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.
I remove the first bullet with the experience of someone who has done this more times than she cares to admit and drop it into the stainless steel dish on the counter beside me.
The second bullet comes out with ease, and I drop it beside the first one.
My clients want this man to disappear off the radar.
That’s why he was brought to me. They didn’t want his death registered.
Not yet. I don’t know why, and I don’t ask.
The less I know, the better. But I assume it has something to do with the power struggle within the crime families.
With the deaths of two of the Nero brothers, I’m sure other crews will test their strength and see if there’s an opening to gain more power and ground.
I’m deep in concentration when the buzzer cuts through the silence and interrupts me.
I glance up at the wall-mounted monitor, which is linked to the camera outside the building’s entrance. It’s one of eight cameras I had installed when I took over this place. In my line of business with my kind of clients, it pays to have as much security as possible.
As well as the surveillance equipment, I have a state of the art alarm system and a panic button. And if a threat somehow makes it past all this security, there is a gun sitting in a drawer across the room.
Some people might call me paranoid. But for someone with my past, being over precautious is the reason I’m still breathing.
On the monitor, a man stands at the entrance, his face lit up by the glow of the security light.
Cian.
He buzzes again to let me know he’s growing impatient, and I consider ignoring him just to piss him off. But the body on my table belongs to his family which means I have no choice but to deal with him.
I strip off my gloves and toss them into the bin. Passing the stainless steel counter, I pick up the scalpel and hold it carefully concealed at my side.
Cian’s annoying. Like a mosquito at a picnic. But it pays to be safe.
I unlock the door and push it open. Cian’s eyes immediately sweep over me from head to toe, and the look of approval that follows makes my skin crawl.
“Finally,” he says, stepping forward. “I was starting to think you didn’t want to talk to me and since we were so rudely interrupted the other night. I thought I’d come personally.”
I step in front of him to block his path. “You can’t come in; you know the rules. No one inside when I’m working.”
“Relax, Doc. I’m not here to see Alberto. I’m here to see you.”
“Then you should’ve called during business hours.”
“You don’t keep usual business hours. You keep dead of night hours. Which is kind of hot if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” I’m quick to bite back. The scalpel feels comfortable in my hand.
It wasn’t the alcohol that had me telling him I’m fucking Silas the other night.
It was a calculated move to make him back off.
I can handle myself, but sometimes it’s easier to use a man, and it’s the least Silas can do for me, considering he’s always hanging around.
I thought it’d act as a deterrent, but maybe it’s changed into a pissing competition.
“Come on, Doc. Don’t be like that.”
“Why are you here, Cian?”
He casually shrugs. “The family wants to know how long you need with Alberto.”
“Three hours. Maybe four. The neck wound is messy, and your father was very insistent that this man has an open casket.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cian leans against the doorframe, and I catch the waft of his cologne. It’s expensive and overdone, like he bathed in a vat of it.
“He also mentioned I’d be receiving a bonus, seeing that it’s a rush job,” I remind him.
Cian pats his jacket pocket. “Right here, sweetheart. So, are you going to invite me in or are we going to keep flirting in the doorway?”
“We’re not flirting.”
“Sure, we are. Come on, baby. Lighten up.”
“Don’t call me baby.”
He opens his jacket so I see the thick envelope stuffed with cash. “I’m not going to hand over the money standing out here on the doorstep. If you want to get paid then you’re going to let me inside.”
“You don’t pay, you don’t get the body.”
He tries to sway me with a wink and a charming smile which only revolts me.
“Let me in and I’ll pay you, then I’ll leave you be. You know I can’t do it out here. It’s the rules.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. There is a mutual agreement in place between me and the families I work for. The exchange of money is never to take place in public. Thanks to modern technology true privacy is almost extinct, and anyone could be watching.
Feeling a headache forming at my temple, I sigh. I’ve dealt with Cian for months. He’s a giant pain in the ass, but he’s pretty harmless. So I let him into the corridor and close the door behind him. But the corridor is narrow and suddenly feels very cramped with him in it.
He hands me the cash, and I shove the envelope into my scrubs pocket.
“You know I’ve been thinking about you since seeing you at Sellers,” he says.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
“I can’t help it. You’re a beautiful woman. All alone in a big, empty building full of dead people; you must get lonely.”
“I don’t.”
“Everybody gets lonely, baby.” He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back.
“It’s time for you to leave,” I tell him.
“Why?”
“I have a two-baby strike rule. Two strikes and you’re out, and you’ve called me baby twice in the last two minutes, so it’s time for you to go.”
His eyes darken, and there’s something off about his smile. “You need to learn how to relax, Doc. I could help you with that. I could take you out on a date.” His gaze drops to my body and crawls over me like something cold and slimy. “Show you a good time.”
I take another step back, and my back touches the wall. “I said you need to leave.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart, let down those walls. I bet you’re really hot under that frosty facade.”
He’s got vodka on his breath, and I wonder if he was at the nightclub where the man on my table was killed?
“You need to take a step back,” I say with an edge to my voice.
But he doesn’t listen. He comes closer. Close enough for that nauseating cologne to invade my nose and mouth.
Ugh, I can taste it on my tongue. I quickly begin calculating how bad it would be to kill the head of a family …
then again, I know the consequences. But it doesn’t feel enough to persuade me not to.
“Come on, baby. You don’t have to play hard to get with me. I know how to treat a woman. I know how to make her feel real good.” His voice drops as he reaches for my breast. “Just lighten—”
He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. I grab a fistful of his shirt and press my scalpel into his neck, alarmingly close to his jugular. One nick and he’d bleed out on my floor in under two minutes.
His eyes go wide.
My heart pounds with the thrill, the visual in my mind of what his blood pooling out of his throat will look like. Cian is the second to see this monster inside me, which I try my hardest to hide. But if he’s not going to take no for an answer…
“I’m gonna say this once and only once, so listen good.
You do not get to touch me. You do not get to look at me like I’m something you can buy or take or charm the panties off.
I am not lonely. I am not available. And I am not fucking interested in a slimy asshole like you.
” I press the blade harder, and the sharp point dimples the skin just enough for him to know I mean business.
“You bring me the work. You pay me. And then you fuck off. There is absolutely no scenario in this arrangement where you get to put your nasty hands on me and then walk away with all your body parts still attached.”
A dark cloud moves through his expression, and his fear gives way to something uglier. Humiliation. And men like Cian don’t handle humiliation well.
“Fuck you,” he hisses. “It was a compliment.”
“Copping a feel of my tits is not a compliment.”
“You’re a real uptight fucking bitch. You know that?”
“You should see me when I’m really pissed off.” I give my best crazed smile.
His jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare. He wants to say something. And he’s tempted to show me who’s boss. But the tiny part of his brain that has somehow kept him alive this long warns him not to push me. That doing so might be the last mistake he ever makes.
And it’s right.
He takes a step back and adjusts his collar. “You’ve made your point.”
“Good.”
“Just get on with the fucking job.”
“That is what I was trying to do before you got all handsy.”
He pulls on his cuffs. “Frigid cunt. You need to stay out of the cooler.”
I meet his eyes. “So should you.”
The innuendo isn’t lost on him.
Try this shit again, and you’ll end up in the cooler wearing a toe tag real quick.
“Crazy bitch,” he mutters.
He opens the back door and slams it shut behind him.
Relieved he’s gone, I check the automatic lock on the door.
Alone again.
But it doesn’t remove the reminder that the families are starting to get cocky. The boundaries I had in place are vicariously thinning, and I have to make sure that they know not to fuck with me. Because the moment they think they can, everything will fall apart.