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Santino let out an exasperated huff. “We’re fighting a turf war. It’s everyone’s responsibility until the dust settles.”
“Yeah, yeah. There’s always something.”
I’ll be doing this forever, won’t I?
My stomach sank. Did he think I loved my job? Violence was as easy as breathing, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed the taste of it in my mouth. There was no pride in it. They all thought because I didn’t flinch, I must love the work. But what did love got to do with it? It was a necessity. Dismembering a corpse wasn’t a pleasant way to spend an evening. The stench clung to me after several showers.
I’d gotten used to it. Everybody who signed up knew the risks, so I didn’t care much. But nowadays I was like a butcher, culling the weak from the rest of the flock. It wasn’t a good feeling.
Santino paced the room. “Porca puttana.”
“Stop being so dramatic.”
“You’re giving me a fucking ulcer. I thought I was helping you out with the easy targets.”
“Do I look like someone who needs help?”
Delilah smoothed a bandage over my skin, her expression full of judgment. I stared back until Santino gripped my shoulder.
He shook me roughly. “Are you cracking up on me?”
“’Course not.”
He looked unconvinced.
“Maybe you need a distraction.”
“Like what?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. Find yourself a girlfriend. Put your energy into a woman, not your job.”
I stared at his assistant, who peeled off her gloves. “You have any friends into a guy who kills people for a living?”
She pressed her lips into a thin line.
I glanced at my brother. “You were saying?”
Santino’s lip curled. “You have shot down every proposal Ma has given you. Sophia. Maria. That hot chick, Francesca.”
“Why would I get married?”
He slapped my arm. “You’re twenty-four. Don’t you want kids?”
I laughed.
Me, a father? He’s out of his mind.
No space for children in my life. Every night, I hunted in Boston’s shadows. Over the years, I’d carved out quite a reputation. Back when Alessio was in charge, I butchered prominent MC members and displayed their heads. Vinn Costa, my cousin and the current boss, had a similar brutal philosophy. Santino was a loan shark and had gambling side gigs, Romeo had real estate, and me? My name was Kill and I cut throats. I was a walking cliché.
When my brothers walked into a room, people smiled. When I did, they scurried away like roaches. I couldn’t blame them. I was the last man everyone wanted to see. And my lifestyle didn’t blend well with white picket fences. Men who disappeared in the middle of the night made poor husbands and even worse fathers.
“Why don’t you settle down with a nice girl?” he said, waving at the door. “Go on some dates.”
“You sound like Ma.”
“I’m done,” Delilah ground out.
I pulled down my shirt. “Thanks.”
