“Ye didn’t answer me before. Fallon.” Cillian gave me a look from the corner of his eye, and I shrugged.
“He hasn’t said much.” I crossed my arms. “All this shit has kept him occupied, but the moment we have downtime he’ll need to start thinking about it again. Shit could jump either way.”
“Are ye talkin’ about him doin’ in someone?” Rowen asked. “I’ve been considering that. We all want him with us, don’t we? And we’ve all been through the same. The first is always the hardest.”
I hummed.
Cillian grunted. “We’ll get him there. It’s all part of the job, innit?”
“Yeah.” It was easier for Cillian, though, and me, too. Cillian thrived on every part of our life in the Company, and I’d learned to tune out the parts that bothered me, without much trouble. Fallon was built different from us, but so was Rowen and he made it work. “He’ll be fine.”
At least I hoped so.
It took us another twenty minutes to get to the flower shop that belonged to Cillian’s target. His home address was a few blocks away, and we checked there first. When we figured he wasn’t home, we headed to the shop. Sure enough, Robert Suter was inside, talking to an elderly woman who laughed at something he said before she said her goodbyes and left with a bouquet of roses clutched in her hands. When we knew the shop was empty all three of us went inside—Rowen stood near the door, perusing the flowers as though he was interested, while Cillian and I went straight for Suter. He was a rotund man with a thick head of brown hair and a bushy beard, and he reminded me more of a biker than a guy who’d run a flower shop. The only thing different about him was the moon-shaped glasses he had hanging off the arch of his nose.
I held my brown leather case of knives at my side. Suter wouldn’t know what was inside, not until it mattered.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” He flashed us a grin. “How can I help you today? Searching for a bouquet for a lovely partner, hm?”
Cillian sent me a smirk. “Vail would love one, wouldn’t he? Though, I’m not the type to buy him that kind of shite. What about ye, Aspen?”
I shook my head, keeping silent. This was his target, and he could play with him how he wanted. Knowing Cillian, he’d have a lot of fun first.
Cillian looked back at Suter and clasped his hands in front of himself, the suit tightening around his strong shoulders and wide arms. “Tell me, Mr. Suter, do ye know who I am?”
Suter blinked at Cillian and gave him a once-over, his brows diving in confusion. He kept a smile on his face like any good salesman. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
Theclickof the door lock had Suter’s eyes widening as he peered over our shoulders at Rowen. He took a step back, glancing between the three of us.
“Ever heard of the Killough Company?” Cillian continued with a wicked smirk. He drew a pair of black latex gloves out of his pants pocket and put them on. “Because we’ve heard of ye.”
Suter stumbled backward, crashing into ceramic pots that tumbled toward the floor, smashing into pieces. He spun, shooting through a door at the rear of the showroom, and Cillian sailed over the sales counter, one hand holding his weight, and took off after Suter.
Grunting and yells came from the back room, and I laughed, walking around the counter to head through the door. I scoped out the store for cameras but didn’t notice any. Flowers likely weren’t a high-theft item. Cillian had Suter on the floor, shoved up against the wall with his knee pressed into Suter’s crotch. Suter grimaced and cried out in agony.
“Fuck. You’re breaking my balls.”
“Literally,” Cillian said with a chuckle, raising his hand to slap Suter across the face. Suter’s head flung to the side with the impact and he collapsed against the wall, caught between crying and screaming. “What do ye know about the Killough Company?”
“Nothing,” Suter yelled, gasping when Cillian finally removed his weight from Suter’s crotch. “Fuck. Nothing.”
“I don’t believe ye.” Another slap, and this time it was hard, the sound of Cillian’s palm meeting Suter’s cheek echoing through the room.
I leaned my shoulder against the wall, and pleasure from the sight of Cillian’s strong body working someone over crept its way through my limbs. I never got as hard as Cillian for torture, but there were moments when Cillian got riled up that were fucking sexy. Like now.
Every so often he glanced in my direction as though checking I was still here, his cheeks flushed with excitement and a wild expression in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of torturing, and I didn’t have to see his dick to know it was hard enough to hit baseballs.
“Aspen, give me yer knives.” He held out his hand, and I shook my head, chuckling. I passed across the brown leather case, and he winked in thanks. Warmth slid through me, coursing through my veins and heading south. Cillian was an attractive fucker when he wanted to be.
“Wait. Wait!” Suter started to struggle, and I strode past Cillian, grabbing Suter’s shoulders and holding him down.
“No use fighting it,” I said with a smirk. “Today’s the day you’re going to die.”
“Listen!” Suter stared at us with wide eyes, his lips moist from tears. “I didn’t tell anyone anything, okay? I don’t know anything.”
Cillian opened my case and pulled out the largest knife, which glinted under the light. I’d sharpened them all recently, so it wouldn’t take much to cut through his flesh. One stroke is all Cillian would need. He dumped the case on the floor at his side.
Cillian shook the knife playfully in front of Suter and stood. His hard dick was in my direct line of sight and it was difficult to look at anything else. The bulge presented his package well and had my body reacting. Pleasure zipped through me, settling in my balls, and my skin tingled.
