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Seven
Eoghan
I was supposedto be gone for five days.
Three days, and it chafed.
Why?
I couldn’t say.
Okay.
Lies.
I knew why.
She didn’t answer any of my fucking messages. Not a single goddamn one, so when I was supposed to be trailing Josiah Landers to make sure that his habits hadn’t fucking changed, instead, I was checking my phone like a pussy.
I knew she was on that goddamn thing all the time. Her books were on it, so were her audiobooks.
So…
Why. The. Fuck. Didn’t. She. Text. Me. Back?
The kill shot was anticlimactic, because I was too fucking pissed off at my goddamn wife who couldn’t answer a text and who was ignoring my calls.
What was the point in having a wife if she didn’t message back?
If there was anyone who should reply, it was her.
It wasn’t like I’d left things in a bad way.
Three orgasms?
For a virgin?
Fucking hell, she’d won the sex lotto!
So her gripe with me was not only unfair, it was an irritating glimpse into married life that I wasn’t appreciating.
I was supposed to kill Landers on the fifth day of my job. Instead, I did it on the third. When the bullet tore his brain apart, I was already cleaning up my gear, breaking the rifle into several parts, and fitting it into the cello case that I used to transport my gear around while Conor took a picture of the corpse on the ground for us to send to the client.
An hour later, when I received the payment from a guy who only went by the name Martinez, and whom I’d known back when he’d ran Los Lobos, a once pennyante gang that he’d transformed into an army, I was already on the Dassault Falcon, winging my way back to the city.
Conor bitched and griped at me for pushing the schedule forward, but I didn’t care.
I wanted to know what the fuck was going on.
It was, therefore, not a cheerful Eoghan who walked through the elevator doors into his apartment four hours later.
If anything, it was a man who was not happy about being led around by his cock by his eighteen-year-old wife after only eleven days of marriage.
The new furniture surprised me.
Enough that I jerked back at the sight of it.
It wasn’t to my taste.
