Fucking shit I hoped he was telling the truth…
“So you’re not his dad?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. Ryan let out a breathy laugh.
“Fuck no. I don’t have any kids.”
Yet.
Visions of little ginger babies danced before my eyes, and I blinked.
Woah. Where the hell hadthatcome from?
I shook my head again and stood up, jerking the gun toward the door.
“Take me to him. If his story lines up with yours, we’ll discuss the next steps.”
Ryan eyed me with a look that bordered on disbelief, though he didn’t say anything. He just stumbled to his feet.
“Hands behind your head. If you fuckingflinchthe wrong way, I blow your brains out all over your spooky stairs and leave it for muscles to clean up tomorrow.”
He shot me a questioning look, and I shrugged.
“Your sister.”
He nodded as if to say ‘ah’ and did exactly as he was told.
“Can we uh… bring the sage?” he asked, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
“No, weirdo. March!” I jabbed him in the back with my Beretta, and he sighed before obeying.
My cock twitched again.
Maybe he was telling the truth?
My blood heated in my veins at the thought… If he was, what would I do?
He had seen my face… Damian would tell me to kill him. He was a loose end.
However, watching him walk up the stairs before me with his hands laced behind his head, I knew I wouldn’t kill him. If the kid corroborated his story, I would let Ryan Fairview live. However, I couldn’t just let him loose into the world. I would need to keep an eye on him.
Looking around the impressive Victorian house that this man’s family had turned into a funeral parlor, an idea hit me.
What did a mercenary and a mortician have in common?
Dead. Fucking.Bodies.
The more I thought about my new idea, the more excited I became.
I jabbed Ryan between the shoulder blades with my gun, forcing him to walk up the stairs faster.
“Hurry up, ginger snap. Let’s get this misunderstanding cleared up so we can be friends.”
He glared at me over his shoulder, and I smirked back.
“What makes you think I want to be friends with you?” he whisper-hissed back, and I chuckled.
“Trust me, ginger snap. I’m a much better friend than an enemy.”
Ikept my gun rammed in between Ryan’s shoulder blades the entire walk to the kid’s room. The house was dark and so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, and I leaned in close to my captive’s ear as we walked, resisting the urge to inhale his intoxicating scent.
