“He has a brand on his upper back. There are tattoos covering it. You wouldn’t be able to see it, but it’s there if you touch it. One of you should see if you know what it is.”
“No need,” I said as I kicked the rat in the back.
Sure, they hadn’t said I could, but with the news of a brand, I figured they were officially done with him.
“Branding means Bratva.” Pharrell’s voice held no emotion.
“Stasia was Bratva wasn’t she? They put a fucking rat in your ranks?”
At Ricardo’s anger, our boss smiled. “Seems that way. Then again, he could have been here as Stasia’s pet. My late wife had a thing for keeping things she shouldn’t have. It’s a shame her family didn’t call him back. This is going to cause so much more trouble than he’s worth.”
Pharrell’s gaze turned to me. “Can you take care of this? I’m tired and would like to get cleaned up.”
With a smile, I saluted him. “Absolutely, Boss. I’ll have a bit of fun first, if you don’t mind.”
He waved his hand to signal he didn’t care, then he and Ricardo moved as if to leave. I watched them go, curious as to why it felt like something had shifted tonight. Like maybe there were things I didn’t understand but should have.
Who knows?
I shrugged and skipped over to the wall of goodies—aka weapons. Selecting a bat with spikes on the end, I figured a little batting practice would be fun. Granted, it would also kill him quickly, but it was still gruesome enough to tickle my fancy.
“Hey, batter, batter,” I cried out as I pulled my arm back and then swung. The sound of a fractured skull and brain matter filled my ears. “Home run! And the crowd goes willllllld!”
I pulled my arm back, ready to swing again. I waited for the thrill to come. That high that always found its way into my system when I got a bit bloody.
Except it didn’t.
Usually, I’d spend hours working someone over. They’d be unrecognizable once I finished. There was an art to it. A beautiful magic to the way I could take apart the human body.
But all I could think about was Henny’s face when Ricardo’s message interrupted us. We’d gone from arguing to all business in an instant. It’s the way we had to be. We couldn’t bring our shit into the family.
It would have to wait until we could be alone. We couldn’t avoid it now that the dam broke.
With my focus shot, I looked down at the body. Guy was dead. Very dead. I’d done what the boss instructed.
“Faster than usual,” I mumbled, watching the lack of movement from his chest.
This was stupid. Rushing through kills wasn’t like me. They were literally my favorite fucking part of the business. Yet right that minute all I could do was picture my Henny with his tablet, a scowl, and that bossy voice ordering people around.
I wanted him to order me around. I wanted that dominance he wore so easily when it was just us two to make an appearance again, urging me to drop to my knees and do anything he said.
“Fuck,” I shouted as I dropped the bat. “I’m a mess.”
Duh, you idiot.
My subconscious was great at reminding me of the obvious. I’d been a mess for far longer than this thing with Henny had been going on. This time it just seemed to be affecting everything in my life rather than making me murderous.
The old me would still be swinging a bat. He would have hit and carved and chopped until someone had to come drag him away.
Apparently that version was gone.
The new me was already stomping over to the sinks to clean up. I rinsed my hands as I thought about what I’d say once I sawHenny again. While scrubbing my boots free of brain matter, I contemplated how we’d come to some kind of agreement about the future.
The list of things to discuss was long: where to live, what to do about work, how did we handle the Daddy part, date nights, and more.
I headed to the door as soon as I was decent enough to not catch anyone’s attention. Swinging the heavy metal open, I turned to the guard perched there and pointed behind me.
“Call for cleanup. I’m done.”
