The Ruthless Page 7

  “You’re much prettier than I imagined. I was expecting some posh, stuffy bitch the way my aunt talked about you.”

  Maybe I don’t like her. “Your aunt was a disgusting, manipulative, dense bitch. She got the death she deserved and if you can’t handle that truth then we’re done here.”

  The smirk on her face widens. “She sure did. There’s no need for dramatics; I’m here to discuss what I can do for you in return for my sponsorship. I heard you didn’t want the skin auctions to open again.”

  I tilt my head in her direction, a nod without actually doing it. There’s too many eyes and ears around, and I’ve slipped back into the upper class skin I’m most protected in.

  Illi isn’t so concerned. “That’s one of the conditions, if we sponsor you and you’re successful. You vote it down, no matter the cost to you.”

  She smirks a little, lifting her glass to her lips and taking a sip. The black lipstick smears a little on the rim and when she sets it back down she leans forward to murmur quietly to us.

  “I understand the risk the Wolf and the Family are taking on by sponsoring me. I’m a risk, I’m from poor breeding stock, and there’s bad blood. I have no interest in joining your little band of merry little sheep, but I will always pay my debts. Consider this a token of my appreciation.”

  I straighten a little in my seat but Lucy’s eyes flick over to the corner of the restaurant. Illi’s eyes follow hers and curses under his breath.

  He leans down to whisper to me, his voice barely more than a breath, “That’s D’Camillo. He’s made a name for himself as a ‘wholesaler’. Brings in thousands of girls a year to the auctions, all of them taken off of the streets.”

  I give him a curt nod then say to Lucy, “Giving him to us will definitely do as a peace offering. We look forward to working with you.”

  Her smirk gets wider and she waves a hand at me in dismissal. “I would never give such a gift. It’s impolite to give people more work to do.”

  There’s a crash and then a scream, and I look over to find D’Camillo gasping and choking on the ground, his hands clawing at his neck as he convulses and foams at the mouth.

  Poison.

  Illi sighs and nudges our plates away from us, looking mournfully at the steak untouched on his. “We forgot the cardinal rule. Fastest way to take someone out is to poison their vices.”

  I giggle at him and watch Lucy who still hasn’t torn her eyes away from where two waiters are still attempting first aid on D’Camillo.

  “Good thing I have none.”

  Chapter Eight

  One day I’m going to have to look into couture bulletproof fabrics.

  I didn’t pack anywhere near enough clothing so Aodhan drives me back over to my ranch to get ready for the meeting, waiting downstairs for Illi to arrive.

  Strapping the Kevlar vest to myself isn’t difficult but finding something to wear over it that doesn’t look ridiculously oversized or bulky is impossible. I’m forced to wear a dress and a blazer, neither of them the tight and deadly style I like, but Aodhan still stares at me as I walk down my staircase like he’d love nothing more than to find his way under the skirt so I must look decent enough.

  It’s also uncomfortable to move with so many weapons strapped to my body.

  I’d promised Lips I wouldn’t leave the house without at least three knives and a gun tucked into my purse, and at the time I didn’t realize how constricting that would be for me.

  As I walk down the staircase, I find Illi and Aodhan muttering between themselves about something, probably related to their hunting trip and about the photos but I can’t force myself to think about that right now.

  We have other things to deal with.

  “You look uncomfortable as hell, Queenie,” Aodhan says with a smirk, and Illi glances over his shoulder at me.

  He grins and rolls his eyes at me. “Do you not trust me or something, kid? I got you that shit to use when I’m not around, just in case O’Cronin needs some backup or a warning shot. A gun and the vest will do.”

  I shrug. “I’m not ever going to be caught unaware again. What’s the point in learning how to use all of this if I don’t have it on me when I need it?”

  Illi’s eyebrows hit his hairline, a smirk stretching over his face. “Your brother isn’t gonna know what the fuck to do with you when he gets home.”

  Aodhan grins at me and kisses my cheek as I get to the bottom of the stairs, murmuring in my ear, “I’ve gotta grab Jack; I’ll see you guys there.”

  He squeezes my hand before we all head out, walking me to Illi’s car and tucking me in safely before he climbs into the Impala and takes off.

  “He’s a good man. If you’re going to choose between him and the Crow you know where my vote is going,” Illi mumbles, starting the BMW up and pulling out.

  I roll my eyes at him. “Good thing it isn’t something that will be put to vote then, isn’t it? Besides, Lips didn’t have to choose. Who says I will?”

  Illi snorts, weaving through what little traffic is on the road this late out and in my gated community. “Fuck, it’s gonna end up being a family thing. I’m telling you all now, my dick belongs to my girl and my girl alone, and any man that touches her is bleeding the fuck out on the floor so we’ll be the odd ones out.”

  I cackle at him because I can’t imagine a world in which Illi and Odie ever thought of touching other people. I’m not like Lips, I’m not struggling at all with the idea of being with two men because… well, I’ve been honest with them both from the moment I met them. Aodhan has always known about Atticus and if my life-long love had’ve done something a little earlier then maybe I wouldn’t even be considering this unconventional path.

  Atticus might not want to share me.

  I have to make peace with that.

  Illi directs us through the traffic with ease and I find myself considering purchasing a BMW for how smoothly it eats up the road. I don’t want to mention it to Illi, because he’ll immediately start talking specs and messaging Ash and Harley to gloat about winning me over.

  Car people are insane and I don’t want to get thrown into an argument about useless shit like this.

  The meeting is once again happening at the docks, the warehouse where most of the famous Mounts Bay parties are also held, and when we pull up to the parking lot there’s only a couple of dozen cars. The difference of getting out of the car and walking into the warehouse without the eyes of the Jackal’s men on us is like a breath of fresh air.

  Fucking blissful.

  It looks desolate inside the warehouse without the writhing, practically naked bodies dancing around in the dark with only the strobe lights and drugs to keep them going. This is prime party season for the Bay so I’m a little surprised that there’s nothing going on tonight. Even with the Jackal dead, the Fox is the one who actually organizes the party, so there’s no real excuse for it being empty.

  Atticus waits at the bottom of the stairs for us.

  Illi huffs and glues himself to my side. “Crow, if I find out you’re the one sending those fucking photos—“

  Atticus cuts him off. “Whoever is sending them knows about the Chaos Demon’s connection. Colt’s photo arrived on my doorstep this morning, Lips was in it. I called her to warn her that she’s being watched, but she already knew. Amanda has definitely stepped up her little game and has a tail on all of us now; I suggest you all think very carefully about your movements until we have this under control.”

  Jesus H. Christ.

  Illi curses under his breath and steps away from me, his phone at his ear as he calls Odie. There’s no way he left her without guards for the night, Harbin and Roxas at the very least, but there’s a big difference between having guards because the Bay is a dangerous place and having guards because there’s someone stalking you.

  I’d bet money on whoever is watching Odie to be dead before the meeting is over.

  I glance around but there’s no one near us here. “Is Colt the only
photo you got? None of the… others?”

  I don’t want to say Posey or Nate’s names, just in case there is someone hiding somewhere who might hear their names.

  Atticus knows exactly who I’m talking about. “There’s no indication that she’s going to focus on anyone else. I will tell you if there’s a chance she’s looking into anyone else. No matter how much I don’t like any of this, Avery, I would never put them at risk. I know better than that.”

  I think I believe him.

  Something seems to have changed with him, maybe something about me finding that wall has shaken him, and now he’s at least giving me information and not heavily veiled warnings.

  It’s the most dangerous thing because I feel the first little rays of hope start deep in my belly where they can sprout wings and take over my life again. I try to talk myself down, he’s hurt me before and he’ll hurt me again, but those feelings don’t just disappear.

  They can’t.

  I understand now that my heart has the room in it for two men, and I won’t ever feel complete without them both.

  Atticus hesitates for a second and then holds out his arm for me to take. I glance back at Illi who still has his phone pressed tightly to his ear but he nods at me and stalks up behind us again, cutting the call off.

  I take Atticus’ arm.

  The moment we get into the elevator I drop it and move back into Illi’s side, completely aware that he’s here for my protection and slinking away with Atticus just because of my traitorous heart will make that harder for him.

  I also need to get my head into the game because distraction leads to missing important clues and cues, and I’m not having someone’s death on my conscience.

  Or my own.

  When the doors open Atticus strides away and over to his seat, nodding at his men as he passes. Luca is there waiting for him, a somber look on his face even as he tips his head in my direction. Illi holds out his arm and I take it, letting him lead me in as we both look around at everyone with a cold indifference.

  The table is round and worn and takes up a large portion of the room.

  This is the same room that Lips had confronted the O’Cronin’s at to get Harley free of Liam and Domhnall. She handed over a diamond to every member of the Twelve for their cooperation and I don’t think Harley will ever get over that fact. It doesn’t matter that she still has dozens left, tens of millions of dollars stashed away in her little safe, all he can see in his head are those little velvet bags being handed over for his sake.

  It’s such a Mounty thing to worry about.

  Aodhan’s arm is slung over the chair next to his like he’s saving it for me and Jackson is slouching in the next one down, so I’ll be wedged between family.

  Illi leads me over and tucks me into the table, every move respectful and like a taunt to the others sitting with me.

  Go ahead. Try and touch her, see what I’ll do to you.

  Only the Butcher of the Bay could get away with that sort of thing and every time he thumbs his nose at them all, I freaking love him a little more. I understand completely why Lips would throw down for him any day of the week.

  The Boar arrives last, a little blood-soaked and harried looking, but no one comments on it. Atticus just waits until we’re all seated and then he starts with the usual list of issues and teething problems we’re having in the city.

  Still no updates on who is pushing the Jackal’s product. Three men have been caught dealing and all three of them swallowed a cyanide tablet to kill themselves before they could be questioned.

  That kind of loyalty to their employer… it’s rare and it’s dangerous.

  “No markings on any of them?” I say, frowning a little and Jackson shrugs.

  “I went over the coroner's reports. Nothing. Three dead guys in cheap suits, nothing worth reporting on.”

  Jesus.

  I make a mental note to speak to Lips about it, because it doesn’t sound right. Well, cyanide tablets never sound right but there’s something decidedly not Mounts Bay about that.

  I glance over my shoulder and the frown on Illi’s face confirms it.

  We finally move onto the real reason we’re all here tonight.

  “We have to put forward our nominees for the Game. If you have someone in mind, they have to be put forward tonight. If you don’t put them down tonight, you can’t throw them into the ring next week. Am I clear on that, Viper?”

  The bookie grunts and waves a hand, notorious for changing rules as he sees fit. Last year he’d swapped out guys in the third round and had a screaming match with the Ox about it on the sidelines when his new guy won.

  Atticus waits for any objections and when there are none, he starts to slowly call on each of the members to put their people forward.

  The Fox looks around the table at each of us, the brightly colored tattoos etched into his aging skin a marker of the time and hard nature of being the party man. I wonder how many of the Jackal’s drugs he’s taken over the years or if he knew about the dirty batches he’d pass out to anyone he needed to disappear.

  I wonder how much the Fox trusted his now dead accomplice.

  “I have eight men to put forward.”

  Atticus nods and takes down their names as the Fox lists them off. None of the men ring any bells and by the look on Aodhan’s face they mean nothing to him as well.

  I’ll ask Illi about them later, once Atticus gives me a copy of the notes.

  The Bear has a seemingly endless list of men, including two of the Lynx’s relatives, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. He’s trying to court some new friends and revive his destroyed business by having a new partner in the Twelve. Pathetic.

  The Tiger has one man, someone Atticus arranged for him, and he looks as though this entire meeting is distasteful to him. I often wonder about his reasons for joining the Twelve and why he doesn’t just take his fortune and leave. It’s probably safe to do so now, I highly doubt anyone at this table currently would object.

  Jackson names another of the Crow’s picks, his Wolf tattoo flexing on the table as he picks at a bullet hole. He smirks when he notices me looking at it, wriggling his fingers in that chronically flirty way that he has. I’m convinced he doesn’t even realize just how suggestive he is because I’ve seen how he is with Viola, but Aodhan leans forward in his seat to death stare at him.

  Atticus refrains.

  I actually respect him a little more for finally not interfering with what I do at this table on the Wolf’s behalf, for not throwing himself in between me and any perceived threat.

  These weak men are not a threat to me, not really, not now the Jackal is dead and everything that once was a sure thing in the Bay is yet again up in the air.

  The Ox, the Boar, and the Viper each name a small handful of men. There aren’t any women yet but I actually think that’s a good thing, considering I don’t really want to watch their deaths and I want Jack and Lucy to win.

  “Stag, who are you nominating?” Atticus’ eyes give nothing away and I’d be impressed if I weren’t so sure he’s plotting out Aodhan’s death every second of the day.

  “Jack O’Cronin.”

  The Bear scoffs and snaps, “More fucking family. Everyone is trying to fill the seats with allies.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “You put forward twenty-two men of your own. If anyone is trying to manipulate this process for their own gain, it’s definitely you.”

  He turns on me with a curled lip and manic eyes that are just a little too Joey-esque for my liking. “There’s never been a cap on nominees. Don’t try to change the fucking rules now just to suit yourself. Some of us are real Mounties and enjoy a little bloodsport. Maybe you should go home to your gilded fucking castle and play pretend there.”

  What I wouldn’t give to wipe this man off of the board.

  Atticus doesn’t interrupt for once. It’s jarring because I’m so used to him throwing himself into every little interaction or argument, but he just sits there a
nd waits until I’m done.

  I take a deep breath.

  “Your men will all be dead before the third round. If the Viper is running the books for the Game, I’ll put money on it. You only won the Game because you went up against the weakest and most pathetic that the Bay had to offer, I’m sure of it, because how else would such a worthless excuse of a man be able to take a seat at this table?”

  The Boar scoffs and says, “He went up against drug addicts and fucking pussies.”

  The Bear turns on him but finally Atticus interrupts, “Do you have any other nominees, Stag, or can we continue?”

  Aodhan jerks his head at him sharply. “I’m only sponsoring one person: Jack’s it.”

  Atticus looks over at me, his face still as blank as it always is during these meetings. “Who will the Wolf be putting forward?”

  I meet his eyes across the table and I don’t feel angry at him for the first time in months. “Lucia Ammoscato.”

  There’s cursing in the crowd of men and Atticus’s sharp, icy glare cuts through them until they shut the hell up. “Bear, if your nominees can’t keep their mouths shut during meetings, they won’t make it to the Game.”

  The Bear’s lip curls in my direction again and there is nothing that would make me happier than wiping that man from the face of the Earth.

  I consider calling Nate and paying him double to do it.

  “The Wolf is once again trying to stir up shit! This is a fucking vendetta against me!”

  Atticus rolls his eyes, and Aodhan leans a little closer to me in his seat like he’s prepared for the Bear to pull a gun. I’m wearing Kevlar under my clothing, so I’m less concerned. I doubt he’s a good enough shot to actually manage to shoot me, and he’d be dead before the bullet left the chamber.

  Illi’s cleavers never miss.

  I’m not afraid of the Bear. “If you’ve been dense enough to sponsor men who can only win under very specific circumstances… that’s your own stupidity. I chose someone I thought would not only win but would be an asset at this table for us all.”