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“I didn’t think she’d be visiting for a while, or I would have mentioned her.” Beau passes me, still amused, and joins her uncle. Aunt.
“I’m a drag queen, darling. Don’t be alarmed.” Zinnea rests her weight on a hip, her hand there too, her long talons a vivid shade of pink.
Beau’s barely keeping her laughter in check. I roll my eyes, looking back when I hear more footsteps behind me. James plods down, fastening the two buttons of his polo shirt. He too has an amused smile on his murderous face. I curl my lip at him. Dickhead. He definitely could have told me. Returning my attention back to Beau and her uncle . . . aunt, I smile. I know it’s dark. “Well, I’m a murderer, so no judgments from me.”
He . . . she gasps dramatically, her hand slapping her chest. “This is your house?”
“This is my house,” I confirm, passing them. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay at my pleasure.” I turn and walk backward. “How’s your father?”
“I’m just going to check,” Beau says, motioning to the kitchen. “Your mom was making him tea.”
“He stayed the night?”
She shrugs. “I wanted Doc to check him over.”
I laugh under my breath. The only thing wrong with Beau’s father is a serious case of wanker-itis. “But he’s going today, right?” Because I can’t promise I won’t kill the fucker if I bump into him.
“Yes,” she assures me, a knowing glint in her eye. “I would have asked, but Tank said you were busy.”
“Wait,” Zinnea yelps, turning into Beau and grabbing her checks. “Tom’s here?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my.” He . . . she pirouettes on the spot and flounces off toward the kitchen. “Brother!” she sings as she enters.
“What the hell is he doing here?” a loud, gruff voice barks.
Beau sighs, turning to kiss James. “I’d better go.” She jogs off, and James catches up to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says, focused forward.
“Me too.” I open the door to my office. “I think we need to pull our fingers out our arses before we end up dead.” I smile. “For real.”
“Great plan,” Brad agrees from the couch.
“What the fuck are you doing here this early?” I ask, scrutinizing his bedraggled form.
“I stayed the night so I could be here this early,” he says as Goldie, Ringo, and Otto all pile in. It’s not even eight and my house is full. I need to start charging rent. “What the fuck happened?” Brad asks, getting up and pacing.
I drop into my chair and gaze around the office. “Something’s different,” I muse quietly, not quite being able to put my finger on it.
Goldie coughs, and everyone’s attention turns to her. She taps the carpet with the tip of her boot. “New carpet.”
“Oh yeah.” I lean across my desk and crane my neck, taking it all in. “Blue. I like it.”
“It was the only color available off the shelf.”
“You laid it too?”
“Yes, I laid it too,” she grates, daring me to make a big deal of it.
“Ringo moved the furniture for her.” Otto’s face is deadpan as Goldie swings toward him.
“Are you ever gonna shut that fucking trap of yours or do I have to carve your tongue out?”
I press my lips together. I want to keep my tongue. “All right, children,” I sigh. “Good job, Goldie.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
“Thanks, who?” James asks, and she shrugs. I chuckle, and James drops to a chair, exasperated. “Let’s get on with it.”
“I don’t know where to fucking start,” I admit.
“Maybe here,” Otto pipes up, coming over. He throws a picture on my desk. “I believe you know this man.”
I stare at the image, almost afraid to ask. “I do. That’s Rose’s kid’s dad.”
“Biological?” Otto asks, and I shake my head, feeling James’s eyes on me. He knows the story, but I won’t be going into details with anyone else. “He’s a lawyer, yes?” Otto asks, and an uncomfortable shiver slithers down my spine.
“Yes, he’s a lawyer,” I confirm. “Will you get to the fucking point?”
“He’s representing Vince Roake.”
The room falls silent, and James shoots a shocked stare Otto’s way, as I try to get my head around what I’m hearing. “The Alligator?” I ask. The Irish fucker who’s rumored to be taking the place of The Snake? “Hilary and Derek are respectable people.”
“Who bought Rose’s kid on the black market,” James says quietly, telling everyone in the room what I didn’t want them to know. I flash him a threatening look, and he tilts his head, his eyebrows high.
“Be real, Danny,” Brad says. “James is right.”
“There’s not a cat in hell’s chance he’d represent someone like Vince Roake,” I say, agitated. “Known criminal, drugs dealer, and murderer?” I laugh. “No way.”
James shrugs. “Not unless he’s being—”
“Blackmailed,” I whisper. Fuck!
We all jump when Rose bursts in, breathless, panicked, out of her mind. “Daniel,” she blurts, her eyes welling. “He said he’s not allowed to see me anymore.”
