Psychological plays? We’re back speaking about the dead animals again. Christ save us. Did you hope she’d slip on the single droplet of blood and break her neck falling down the stairs?
“Fuck you,” she growled, leaning against the closed shop window across the street from the gallery.
Quiet.The deadliest of her voices demanded.This can’t go on. Eventually, the gardaí will catch up to us. We need to prepare.
“I have an idea,” Hannah began, trying to sound remorseful for her outburst.
This is assuredly not going to be good.
Good for nothing cow.
Speak.
Gritting her teeth and ignoring the thousandth slur of the day, she offered up what she considered a last-ditch effort to hurt Mirren.
“I believe that all we can hope for now is to destroy the sister’s livelihood. Hurting her physically hasn’t worked outwell, and we’ve run out of time. We will be caught if we stay here any longer.
“I say we trash the attic when we’re assured she isn’t there. I don’t think we can count on her absence tonight, but soon. We’ll leave some special messages for the bitch to find. Leave her financially devastated and scared of her own shadow.
“Then we skip town while we still have enough money to travel and pay a long overdue visit to my mother.”
There was silence, which either meant they were thinking of the cruelest comments to pitch her way, or they were contemplating Hannah’s strategy.
Fine, but you’ll owe us blood for your habitual ineptness.
“Of course,” she agreed readily. They agreed with her plan. Hannah glowed with pride.
twenty-seven
JONATHAN
Mags was goingto one of her sister’s gallery exhibits. Without him. With Eze. “Damn it,” Jonathan cursed. He had a project he should be working on for work and another project to look over for his father, but his concentration was shot.
Instead, he was brooding, staring blankly out the picture window of his and Daniels’ townhouse. Thankfully, Daniel was over helping Blair fix one of her plant trellises and wasn’t around to witness Jonathan’s moping about.
He felt some relief knowing that Eze was interested in someone besides Mags, but that didn’t mean the man couldn’t change his mind or that he might decide to hedge his bets and pursue two relationships at once. Granted, Eze didn’t appear to be a player, but Jonathan didn’t know him well.
Mags had agreed to try with him, so there was that. She wanted to go slow. Fine. He would give her complete control and gladly.
Unable to stop himself, he pulled out his phone and found her contact.
Jonathan: Send me a picture of you all dressed up.
He watched the waving dots with an intense focus that he should be expending on his work projects. “Damn,” he breathed as a video loaded.
Her dress was an aquamarine blue, some silky material that touched her nowhere and everywhere at once. It looked like an old-fashioned slip that women used to wear under their clothes, except hers wasn’t cotton and utilitarian.
She turned slowly in front of the full-length bathroom mirror, capturing the moment for the video, the soft fabric of her dress moving with her. Her hair was swept up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, a few strands escaping just enough to make it look effortless.
Jonathan’s chest tightened as he watched.
He could picture it too clearly—him standing right behind her, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, his hands settling at her waist. His mouth would find that delicate curve where her neck met her shoulder, pressing a slow, lingering kiss there before trailing upward, then down along the line of her collarbone.
The strappy sandals were playful, but it was her nod to jewelry that really drew his eyes. She wore a wide, embroidered wrist cuff. He paused the video and zoomed in on the piece. It was an ocean scene, a pirate ship and mermaid included.
Classic Mags. She never did anything by halves.
Jonathan: Stunning. You’ll have men falling all over themselves and women begging you to make them cuffs. I hope you get a bunch of new clients tonight. I also hope you ignore every man there, including your date.
