“And if I don’t?”His voice is barely a whisper.
I stand and turn away from him.“Then we’ll have another conversation.”I pause at the kitchen doorway and look back over my shoulder.My smile feels cold on my face, a blade made of lips and teeth.“And next time, we won’t wait for your wife and kid to leave first.”
The color drains from his face entirely.
I hold his gaze a moment longer to make sure he understands, to make sure the message sinks all the way down into his marrow.
“We have some nerve, aye, lad?”James asks.“Two strangers who stroll into your house in broad daylight, easy as you like.But we showed ye our faces for a reason.If ye fuck this up in any way, our faces will be the last thing ye see.Think on that.Also think on why you act like a wee boy who’s pissed himself in front of your wife.”
Farley doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe.
We walk out and exit through the front door.Neither of us speaks until we’re inside James’s van.
“Aye, he’ll do it,” James says.
“Yes.”I stare out the window at Farley’s house and at the surrounding quiet neighborhood.“But will all of this be enough to save Eddie?”
James’s hand covers mine, which are clenched in my lap, but he doesn’t say anything.He probably doesn’t want to get my hopes up.
I look at him, and his profile is hard, scarred, beautiful in its brutality.“You’re learning, you know.”
“Learning what?”he asks.
“That sometimes the knife doesn’t need to draw blood to cut.”
He glances at me with something dark and knowing in his wild eyes.“You’re vibrating in your seat for our next stop, same as me.”
I chuckle.“I never said I liked the knives that don’t need to draw blood.”
James bites his lip as he regards me, that manic grin on his face, his eyes alight with the promise of death and mayhem.
I grind my thighs together, suddenly breathless.“Get there, James.Fast.”
He screeches away from the curb, leaving Farley in his kitchen with his stump and his coffee and his terror.
If he doesn’t behave and do as we say…
Well.
We know where he lives.
And next time, we won’t be so polite.
Chapter 15
Sera
WheredidJamesfindMichael Devlin after he fled from the police after putting his wife in the hospital?His house, of course.
Honestly, did the police even check there?Without Detective Eddie, is the sheriff’s department made up of nothing but monkeys with badges?Logically, I know that the department has their hands full with a serial killer while being minus one great detective, but still.
The stupid.It burns.
James works his magic on the door, this time from the back to avoid nosy neighbors, and then we’re inside.The place is quiet and still, and each of our movements sounds like gunshots.
Next to me, James holds his favorite knife openly—a thick, wicked blade with a worn handle that fits his grip like it was grown there.Definitely not a tool for subtlety.
My pulse stays steady as we creep through the house and listen for any signs of Devlin.No hesitation coils in my gut, only cold, hard purpose.
