"I know I can," I said.
I'd wait and let his arrogance get in the way. He'd make a mistake, then he'd be on the floor at my feet. If he was lucky, I might not break his bones.
That was negotiable.
He smirked over his shoulder. "Right."
Would the cops mind too much if I stopped by the kitchen, grabbed a knife and added his blood to Erin's?
Probably. Worse than that, Cass would mind. He seemed to have forgiven me for feeding him those meatballs, but killing his brother would be a dealbreaker.
"Believe it or not," Jules said as we stepped out into the morning air. "I'm sorry this happened to you and your friend. There's too many sick fucks out there."
"Yes, there are," I agreed. "Thank you. I just wish…"
"You got here in time?" he asked. "They might have killed you too."
"Do you care?" I cocked my head at him and kept half an ear out for the cops.
He shrugged. "No, but Cassius would. If you broke his heart by dying, I'd have to revive you so I could kill you myself."
"That's very touching," I said sarcastically.
"What can I say? I'm a sentimental guy." He leaned his palm against the wall beside my head.
"You're a guy who loves your brother," I said.
I'd give him that much. He was a prick, but he was a loyal prick. If anyone else asked him to come here, I doubted he would have.
"Yeah, I do." His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. "I don't know what he sees in you, but he seems to like you."
"Does that mean you're going to be nice to me?" I asked sweetly.
He snorted, his breath warm on my cheekbone. "Not a fucking chance. Never let it be said I wouldn't stay with someone when they need it. I'd do the same for anyone."
"Of course you would." I turned my gaze from him and watched down the alley as the first police car pulled up, tires crunching on uneven pavement and alley trash.
CHAPTER 15
HARLOW
"That's the last of it." Archer peeled off his gloves and tossed them in the trash. He blinked a couple of times, fighting off visible fatigue.
He hadn't stopped working since he walked through the door. There wasn't an inch of the seating area, chairs or tables he hadn't touched. Wiped, scrubbed, scoured.
All of it without saying a word.
"I don't think the place has ever been so clean." Which was saying something, because I liked the place immaculate.
I tossed my gloves in on top of his and rubbed my temples. Without gloves, my hands still smelled of bleach. Or maybe it was seared onto the inside of my nostrils. Even with the front and back doors propped open, the smell was strong.
It obliterated the smell of blood, so there was that.
"You okay, love?" Boner wrapped his arms around me from behind and pulled me back to his chest.
"No," I said honestly.
How could I possibly be right with everything that happened? My friend was murdered and my business was defiled. I felt as though I'd been violated twice over. No amountof cleaning was going to make up for that. Not even meticulous to the point of sterile.
