“Don’t be mad,” I pinched his cheek with my bloody glove. He jerked away with an annoyed hiss but didn’t move to wipe the mess off his face. “I’m sure your boss’s boss will understand you couldn’t haul me off for his fucked up little flesh auction. Which, by the way, tell him the Riot's gonna fuck him up the next time he or his little cronies try to set up shop in Vegas. Andrea’s in deep shit this time.”
Honestly, Andrea thinking he was so fucking clever sending this guy in to work under Frank was insulting. If Mr. Grant Black didn’t look and smell like a snack, he’d be taking a long nap buried in the desert. As it was, I was intrigued to see what that idiot from Chicago was planning. He seemed startled by my bold threat, his brow lowering over those calculating brown eyes.
“Is he dead?” Taylor asked, hands shoved into his pockets as he leaned casually against the doorframe.
I wandered over to Frank’s body. My fingers snatched up a nice, pointy knife from the butcher’s block conveniently located right next to it. With a vicious stab to the back of his neck, I severed the spinal cord and lopped his head right off the rest of him. We all watched as the rest of his corpse fell to the floor like a limp stuffy and his head thudded heavily into the sink basin. “Now he is.”
Grant was trying to look unaffected, but I could see the ‘oh shit’ moment flicker in his eyes when he realized what kind of message he would be taking to said boss. Or that I’d alreadyfigured out who he really worked for. “He will be… disappointed with the news.”
I scoffed. “Well,I’mdisappointed I can’t chop his dick off and turn it into a doorknob. But that’s how life goes, am I right?”
Taylor snorted a sardonic laugh. “I did not need that mental image.”
“No worries, I’ll be sure to share that comeback with your girlfriend. Sasha will get a kick from it.”
“Please don’t. She doesn’t need any more kinky ideas,” he had pulled his phone out and began tapping out a message on the screen. “Cleaners are on their way. You ready to head out? The girls are already on their way to get checked out.” Taylor’s eyes shifted toward Grant with distrust. He wasn’t going to mention the victims’ location in front of him.
Grant looked like he had something to say about that.
“I don’t give two shits if you tell Andrea I did this, by the way,” I told him point-blank. His brow lowered even deeper in his scowl, as if annoyed I beat him to the topic. “He should have been keeping a tighter leash on his dog here. This is his second strike.”
“Right, I’ll just tell him to call you if he’s got a problem,” Grant replied dryly. “Except I have no damn clue who youare, do I?”
“Is he going to be a problem?” Taylor asked in Irish. Ever the protective brother, even though he’s younger, Taylor was just as likely to drag Grant out back and bust his kneecaps out of jealousy. “I don’t like the way he’s eyeing you.”
I laughed from my belly, throwing my head back with the force of it. “Play nice. He could be your future brother-in-law. I kind of like the spicy temper.”
The look of pure disgust wrinkling his nose made me laugh even harder. “Surely you could do better than this ass kisser?”
Grant watched our back and forth like a tennis match, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Discussing how you plan to eighty-sixme?” He didn’t sound like he was too concerned, with that sassy tone he used.
“Nope,” I popped the ‘p.’ “I’ll text ya later, though. I have other work to do tonight.”
“You mean your cam work?”
Grant’s snide tone in those five words flipped a switch in me. One second, I was carefree and amicable, and the next, his head was palmed in my hand with his face smashed against the pantry door. He didn’t even have time to react when I had my knife pulled from its thigh holster and pressed dangerously close to his jugular.
“Listen,puppy,” I matched his sarcastic energy. “Sex work is work, and I do it because I enjoy it and it pays well. So I’ll be feckin’ damned if you turn your nose up at it when it’s my choice.” He had me so worked up that my Irish brogue was coming out despite the voice modulator. It was worth the look of fear that flickered across his face briefly before he clenched his jaw. At least he was smart enough not to thrash. “Next time you decide to dunk on my profession, I’ll cut you inta bite-sized chunks and feed ya to the street cats. Do I make m’self clear?”
“Crystal,” he bit out.
And just like that, the dark mood dissipated like fog beneath the hot sun. “Peachy!” My hand flicked the knife away and spun the blade down to slam back into its holster. "T, let the cleaning crew know they can scrub the whole place down. And get Jerel to take care of Frank's body."
Taylor whistled as I turned to leave. “Man, you almost got acloseshave,” he teased Grant. I jerked my head in a silent ‘let’s go’ gesture as I walked by the door frame he leaned against.
Just as I made it to the front door, another crew swept in carrying all manner of tarps and hacksaws, and other accoutrements to dispose of bodies and clean crime scenes. The last trailed behind with a plastic bucket filled with cleaningsupplies. Every one of them dipped their heads as they passed by, some murmuring quick greetings as they filed on through the foyer to the kitchen. All of their faces were covered from the nose down in the black masks with red-stitched smiles. I caught the edge of the door with my boot to keep from having to grab the doorknob with my bloody gloves.
More low voices came from the kitchen as Taylor gave his instructions, but nothing else seemed to come from Grant. I’m sure he slinked out through the back door. He should count his fucking blessings I let him off easy.
“Ready?” Taylor rounded the corner, jiggling the car keys in his slacks’ pocket. “I’m starved. Wanna swing by that burger place you showed me last week? I’ve been craving one like mad!”
“Didn’t you just eat like, two hours ago?” I held the door open further with my booted foot, letting it swing wide enough on its hinges for Taylor to dart through as I followed behind. “You got a hollow leg or what?”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder and pulled me in for a one-armed hug as we ambled down the stairs to the driveway. He didn’t need to see my face to know I was pouting. “Ah, don’t let that little pox bend ya out of shape, sis. He doesn’t know enough about ya for his opinion to matter.”
Then he rubbed his head on the top of my head, displacing the black beanie hiding my hair coiled beneath it, and that’s what brought the small smile back to my face. “You’re right, you’re right.”
He scoffed. “I’malwaysright. You’re just stubborn as a mule.”
