Declan answers with a sigh. “Why are you calling me?”
I chuckle. “Wanted to hear your voice, princess.”
“Why do I deal with you?”
“Because you like me.” I pause to allow him to refute the claim. When he doesn’t, a thrill shoots down my spine, but I don’t give voice to it. “You don’t need to take care of it. I’m already here. Besides, I’m expendable. If shit goes down, it’ll be better if it’s me caught in the crosshairs, not the second son of the Whitlock family.”
“It’s not that deep. Let me just?—”
“Declan,” I calmly interrupt him. “I’m already here. Let me take care of this for you, okay?”
He blows out a hard breath. “Fine. But if shit goes south, call me immediately. I’ll be there.”
“I know.” I hang up, then turn my phone off.
It takes me a few minutes to get to Jadon’s door, walking leisurely, like I belong in this neighborhood.
As soon as I step up to the door, I smell it—the smell of decomposition.
“Fuck,” I groan, pulling my gun out and sticking to the shadows as I try the doorknob. It’s unlocked.
I’m not a fucking cop, but I want to report back to Declan, let him know he’s off the hook with this bribery bullshit.
I push inside and the smell almost blows me away. I step back and cough, trying to keep my food down. Dead bodies don’t bother me, but the smell of decomp likes to sink into my clothes, and I have to throw them out.
“Fuck, I love this sweater,” I mutter and shake my head. In the trash it goes.
I shut the door and slowly make my way through the house, clearing rooms as I go. After checking the entire house and ensuring it’s empty, I put my gun away and go back to the dead bodies in the living room. Jadon, his wife, and their kid face down on the carpet with bullets in the back of their skulls.
“Who did this?” I whisper.
It wasn’t Declan, that I know for a fact. He had his shit with Jadon, but he doesn’t kill kids. He wouldn’t even give the order for it to be done. We’ve had brief conversations about what we would and wouldn’t do over dinner a few weeks back and the entire Whitlock family feels like kids are off limits. The only exception was when Dominic killed a fifteen-year-old when he was hunting down the family that killed his wife, but only because the kid shot at him first. It’s a limit for them, so the dead child isn’t on D.
So, who?
Is this another mystery we have to unravel? Ugh, this is gonna irritate the fuck out of me.
Turning my phone back on, I snap pics for Declan, then breeze out of the house through the back door.
I shoot Declan a text, letting him know I’m on the way and I’ll need a shower. He sends me a thumbs up. I shouldhave told him it’s because I smell like dead bodies, but I want it to be a surprise.
The ride over to his house is miserable, the smell of death filling the interior of my car. I’ll have to get some of the guys to clean it for me. Even an open window doesn’t dissipate the odor.
When I knock on Declan’s door, I grin, knowing he’s going to be pissed that I’m bringing this smell with me.
He opens the door, stares at me curiously, then reels back. “What the fuck is that?”
I walk inside, arms out. “Come here, handsome. Give me a hug.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” He hurries around the kitchen island to put space between us. I don’t let him get away—I give chase, watching as his eyes grow wide before he takes off again. I cackle as I race after him, moving around couches and tables before I corner him at the balcony door.
I wrap my arms around him and kiss his forehead, grinning down at him. “Hey, handsome.”
“Let me go.” He wiggles, but a smile stretches his face as he tries to push me off. “You smell like…” His eyes grow wide and he goes stock still. “All of them?”
I sigh and release him. “Yeah. Someone shot them execution style.”
I start to pull out my phone, but Declan stops me. “Yeah, that can wait. You smell awful. Take off your clothes. I’ll put them in a bag and set them on the balcony. You have my house smelling like a dead body.”
