Jamie’s head popped out from above the ledge and he grinned. “That’s violent.”
Corbin glared. “What the fuck?”
Jamie held up his palms to us. “We heard someone, and we had to deal with the situation.”
Cillian showed his face beside Jamie and smirked. “No one died.”
Jamie hummed in agreement. “Homeless bloke. He’s currently unconscious, thanks to this fella here.” He threw his thumb in Cillian’s direction and whistled. “He’s got more skills than I realized. Hit the guy twice near the collarbone and knocked him right out.”
I held in a snort. Before we’d left for Miami, Cillian and Vail had been messing around on the internet, after Vail had gotten it into his head that we needed to incapacitate people rather than kill them. He’d excitedly shown us a martial arts video of how to disable people with a hit called the carotid strike. Vail had sat down and explained what it did, and like good boyfriends, we’d listened. Cillian had gone a step further and learned the move with the intention of showing Fallon, thinking it might be useful for his illegal fights.
Apparently, Cillian was using it, too.
“You showing off?” I grumbled, pissed that I’d missed him in action. I would’ve loved to see him pull off his new maneuver because I would bet my right ball that it had been sexy as hell.
“Don’t get jealous.” Cillian winked, and I shook my head. “I’ll use that move on ye later, and when ye’re out cold, I’ll have my way with ye.”
“Promises, promises,” I muttered.
Jamie glanced between us, his eyebrows hiking higher on his forehead. “Is this what ya blokes are into? I’m fine with weird, but that’s just disturbing.”
Cillian and I chuckled, and then I yanked on the rope.
“Come on. It’s set. Let’s go.”
Cillian slowly pulled me up, and I helped him by climbing the wall with my feet. When I reached the ledge at the top, he grasped my hand and yanked me over to his side. With a grin, he tugged me closer.
Cillian kissed me on the mouth. “I’ve got ye.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I know you do.” He was one of the few people I trusted.
As we climbed down a roof access ladder on the other side of the neighboring shop, I caught sight of the homeless man Cillian had clocked from the corner of my eye. I paused when Cillian walked up to him and stuffed a hundred dollar bill that he’d pulled from his wallet into the homeless man’s shirt.
I cocked my head at him when he returned, and he shrugged.
“The bloke was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He deserves a wee somethin’ for me knocking him out.”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “Careful, you’re going soft.”
He grunted and grasped my hand, placing it on his hard cock. “I’m anything but soft, especially when we’re doing dangerous shite.”
I snorted and grabbed his face, dragging him against me for a rough kiss.
Jamie shoved us, breaking our contact. “Come on, lads. We don’t wanna get caught. Let’s go.”
Cillian glared at Jamie, but I chuckled, dragging Cillian with me.
* * *
The next morning, we were back in the hotel room. Jamie and Corbin were with us, waiting for the early Sunday meeting. The salon was closed, which meant we were safe from taking out innocent bystanders—always a relief. I never liked hurting people who had no connection to the mob.
“What time was Cunningham supposed to meet with Joaquin?” Jamie asked from an armchair inside the hotel room. He tossed a gleaming rainbow ball up in the air before catching it again. I didn’t know where he’d gotten the toy from, but he’d been playing with it all morning, and his fidgeting was beginning to get on Cillian’s nerves. I could see by the way his teeth clenched that he was ready to lash out.
Cillian and I sat outside on the balcony again, each taking one of the chairs, while Corbin played on his phone at the small desk to the left of Jamie. The weather was miserable, with gray clouds clumping in the sky above us spitting out rain. It was enough to be frustrating and it was another thing to add to Cillian’s mood. Our balcony was covered by the floor above, so we could still sit outside without getting wet. I reached over and laid my hand on Cillian’s arm, trying to calm him, and when he looked at me, I winked.
“This is what we’re good at,” I said, though it wouldn’t help much. Hitting a target this big—a Reyes family member, no less—was a massive deal, and Cillian’s tension was through the roof. With tight shoulders and hands curled into fists, he was ready to shatter at any given moment. Luckily for us, I was the one holding the detonator. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t done this before, but the stakes were higher than ever. We’d never faced enemies like the Reyes Cartel. They were smart and didn’t show their hand until it was too late, and they treated their men and women well, which garnered loyalty I couldn’t help but respect.
Cillian gave me a nod and raised the binoculars to his eyes again. As the lookout, it was his job to let me know when it was time to hit the button. Down below, people walking in the streets had umbrellas, making our job harder than it should’ve been. It was ironic that it rained in Miami on a day we had a hit, but we’d worked in tougher situations.
