Chapter 47

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

KILLIAN

Istand in the garage staring at Snake, a long-time employee of ours. He has been a friend for even longer, so this stings more than usual.

“Come on, Killian, we go too far back for this.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glower at him. He’s right, we do go way back, which is why he’s the last person I’d expect to betray us. Snake knows where all the bodies are buried, so to speak.

“Explain why I’m hearing you’ve been talking to the leader of Morte Mafia about my family’s fucking business.”

He hangs his head in shame, as he should.

Morte Mafia is a violent gang that considers themselves ‘mafia’, but they are far too disorganized for that to be the case.

That does not make them less dangerous, only more.

Wherever they go, chaos ensues, rarely for a particular reason.

They’ll commit rape, arson, theft, murder, and just about anything else.

And not because someone wronged them, but more like what seems to be boredom.

“I didn’t have a choice, Kill. They were going to set me on fire if I didn’t give them the information they wanted. What was I supposed to do?”

Voices echo through the hallway behind me, along with a giggle that causes my jaw to clench.

“Why is Snake on his knees?”

I turn to them as Heather laughs, with a glint in her eyes.

“Switch teams, Killian?”

Sometimes I just want to wrap my hands around her throat and strangle her.

Ignoring her, I respond to Knox.

“Snake has been handing over information about us to the Morte Mafia. So now I’m deciding what to do with him.”

My brothers exchange a glance, and Knox nods.

Snake is going to quickly regret what he’s done.

He’s about to meet the psychotic side of Carter, which won’t be better than what Morte would’ve done to him.

My brother is violent by nature, but tries to fight it.

A bow is usually his weapon of choice, but he knows plenty of alternative ways to kill a man.

The second I saw his hazel eyes turn to a near black, I knew there would be no bow involved.

As I watch Knox tie Snake’s hands behind his back, I know this is going to be bloody.

I’m thankful I had the wherewithal to put a plastic sheet underneath him before my brothers got home.

Carter pulls out his knife, and Snake's eyes widen.

“Carter, please. They were going to kill me. What was I supposed to do?”

My brother tilts his head at him and growls, “Die with fucking honor.”

Snake sobs loudly, “Please forgive me for what I’ve done.”

A growl erupts from my chest.

“We don’t forgive those who betray us. Ever.”

Knox pulls Heather into his arms and speaks tenderly to her.

“Tesoro, you might not want to see this. You can go.”

I roll my eyes at him, because this woman is every bit as psychotic as we are. She isn’t a fucking dainty flower. After she assures him she’ll be okay, his expression of concern melts into adoration as he stares at her like he can’t possibly look away.

Please tell me he isn’t in love with her too. Trying to forget what I’ve just seen, I turn back to Snake as Carter drags his knife down his skin.

“Please, I-I,” he sobs, unable to finish his sentence as Carter pulls the knife away, only to plunge it into his lower abdomen.

“We were practically brothers. You betrayed us. An honorable man dies before bringing trouble to his brother's front door. You knew the job when you took it.”

I glance at Heather, who is abnormally quiet, as she watches them with rapt attention. As I predicted, there’s not a trace of fear. If I had to guess, it's a look of pure-enjoyment. This woman is crazy, and I’m not sure why I’m the only one who sees it.

Carter keeps slicing and dicing Snake. His agony becomes more apparent as the shrieking gets so loud, it’s painful to my eardrums.

“Stop- I can’t-”

He falls back, crashing hard onto the concrete, and blood leaks from his head onto the clear plastic.

Carter starts laughing, the sound deranged and maniacal.

“He died from a fall. A fucking fall.”

I glance at Knox.

“Make sure he’s dead, then take him and burn the corpse.”

He looks from me to Heather and says, “I’ll take her with me.”

Shaking my head, I say, “She can stay here. I’ll be sure she behaves.”

Knox kisses her on the cheek, and I grin at her.

“Come on, Killer. We can start dinner. Carter, get washed up then join us.”

Heather narrows her gaze at me, and places her hands on her hips.

“Fuck you, Killian. I’m not your servant.”

The grin on my face is immediate.

“You think I want to risk you poisoning me again? I’ll cook, you can help where I can keep a close eye on you.”

I glance at Carter, who shakes his head and laughs.

“This is what you two are into? Sure, she’s gorgeous, but she has a bad attitude.”

Heather folds her arms over her chest as we walk out of the garage. I wonder if she knows how stupid she looks walking like that, but don’t bother asking. It would only mean more attitude, and it’s already grating on my last nerve.

“I have a fight tomorrow, so I’m having salmon cooked in avocado oil, quinoa, and asparagus. Do you want me to make something different for you?”

She relaxes her arms at her sides, stops walking, and stares at me like she’s never seen me before.

“You would do that for me?” She says, in a high-pitched tone, as if I said something shocking.

I shrug my shoulders because it’s not a big deal. It’s just food.

“I’ve never had salmon, but I would like to try it. I had trout before, and it was good. Is it like that?”

We continue walking to the kitchen and I answer her.

“They’re similar, but they don’t taste the same. Salmon has a richer flavor and is flakier in texture. Trout is a milder flavor but is usually a bit more firm.”

“What?” I ask when she makes a weird face.

“You’re being kind of pleasant, and it’s confusing the hell out of me.”

I fight not to roll my eyes, but growl in annoyance, “Come on, Killer, I’m starving.”

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