We had hired help with everything, and while we still have some, probably always will, I don’t find we rely on them so heavily anymore.
Kat made us present in our lives again, just another thing that I’m forever grateful to her for.
Pounding on the glass door makes all of us freeze, eyes darting from one to the next as we stand in shocked silence.
Nobody should be able to reach the back door without going through security, and I haven’t heard of anyone being approved, nor do I remember any meetings set.
Not that we would ever set one up this late at home, but still.
The sound echoes through the kitchen to us again, and this time we all move.
Vince quickly pulls a gun from the holster he has hidden beneath his coat and stalks into the kitchen with the rest of us not far behind him.
I’m not sure what I expect to find, but it’s not the group of people standing at the back door, one of whom is waving with a smile that seems more dangerous than inviting.
“Who the fuck is that?” Des hisses, letting me know I’m not the only one confused.
Nobody answers, though.
That’s not good.
Crazy Smile seems to realize something before he holds up a finger and turns his back to us. Whatever he does with his back to us has someone else moving forward, and now I’m going to have to fire all of my security team because how the fuck did this guy get past them?
He’s enormous, but that’s not what’s important here. No, what’s important is what he’s showing us, which none of us seem to notice until he all but slams it against the glass.
Carter.
Sure as I’m standing here, Carter is on the other side of the glass, his face pressed against it in what appears to be an uncomfortable way.
Good.
Vince tucks his gun away and moves to the door, and slides it open before stepping back.
The big guy all but shoves Carter over the threshold, and he looks a little roughed up but not too bad. However, the gag in his mouth is definitely appreciated, considering there are little ears in the house.
He stumbles forward but somehow manages to stay upright before he bolts out of the kitchen, leaving us all to stare after him.
Well, all but Crazy Smile.
“I love when they run,” he mutters like a prayer to the heavens before he gives chase.
There’s a clatter in the dining room, and less than a minute later, Carter walks back in with a knife to his throat. I’ve met many men in my life, many of whom are capable of killing or have killed, but he’s different.
I can see from the look in his eyes that he not only can do it, but he enjoys it.
“One cockroach delivered, alive.” I turn at the sound of the voice, the female voice, and I know who it is, but seeing her is strange.
She’s small, probably no taller than Kat, and her hair is dark at the roots and fades into green at the ends. Tattoos and piercings are here and there, and she has that same hint of wild in her eyes that crazy smile does, but her smile is just as harsh.
“I assumed you wanted him alive, but I wasn’t sure. If not, we can handle him for you,” she offers as if simply asking about a food delivery or some other mundane thing, not literal murder.
I can’t bring myself to mind, though. I’ve had a fair share of men murdered in my time, most of whom Vince has been in charge of handling, like Trevor. It’s a necessary evil, and something tells me these guys know all about that.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” I say before Crazy Smile gets too excited and offs him by mistake.
“Yeah, we have a few questions for him first.”
“Perfect.” She gives a little clap, and Crazy Smile walks Carter over to Vince, looking almost as if he’s moping. “Oh, don’t pout, Zan. We have others you can handle later.”
