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I pace back and forth in front of him a few times, watching as he becomes more tense with every silent second that passes. Then, when I cross in front of him the fourth time, I swing my arm up and down, plunging the blade through his thigh.
His screams echo off the concrete walls and blood spills from the wound, coating his pajama pants and gathering in his shoe.
“Stop lying to me, Reece.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not lying. I don’t—”
I swing the blade back and plunge it into his other thigh. His screams are shrill and piercing, and I want to cover my ears, but I resist.
“My wife is asleep upstairs. I’d appreciate if you didn’t wake her,” I say, holding the bloody knife behind my back and continuing my pacing.
His screams fade to a whimper and, finally, a breathy moan. His voice is little more than a rasp when he begins to talk. “Yours isn’t the only bed she’s been in.”
I roll my eyes and tilt my head back as if asking God what I did to deserve to be here with such a stupid man. “I’m aware I didn’t marry a virgin. She made that apparent our first night together.”
The memory of Eve’s skin under my hands and her body laid out before me makes me even more eager to get upstairs. If Reece knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t bring her up. I’m tempted to kill him just so I can leave.
“And were you also aware you weren’t her first fiancé?”
My stomach drops.
I turn towards him, and by the look on his face, he knows that he hit his mark. Reece wanted a response out of me, and I gave it to him.
He doesn’t need me to answer. “I didn’t think so,” he says, smiling despite the blood bubbling from his wounds. His face is paler than it was a few minutes before, but he is in surprisingly high spirits.
I should ignore him and ask more about the wedding—who planned it, how did they get in, and what was the motivation—but I can’t. Eve never told me about a previous engagement. So, how does Reece know about it?
“Why should I believe you?”
He grins and shrugs. “Maybe you shouldn’t, but I am telling the truth. Your wife was promised to another man.”
My hand tightens around the blade of the knife. “Who?”
“You could always ask her yourself.” He leans back in his chair, trying to look casual, but in his pale, bloody state, the position makes him look like he is fading quickly. “I’m happy to wait here while you two hash it out.”
I take one large step towards him and thrust the blade tip beneath his chin, tilting his face up to mine. “Who?”
His eyes go wide, but the smile doesn’t slip. “Our gunrunner.”
“The Irish gunrunner?” Suspicion raises the hairs on the back of my neck. I need time to process this. I don’t know what any of it means.
Reece nods. “That’s what he told me, anyway. And a lot of the other guys.”
“What did he say?” The words are almost lost to a growl, but Reece seems to understand me.
“Nothing much,” he says with a shrug. “He told us they were engaged, her father arranged it, and…she had the tightest pussy he’d ever—”
My blade is in his heart before he can finish the thought. His mouth continues to move, as though his lips haven’t yet received the message that there is a knife sticking from his chest, but no words come out. The amusement in his eyes fades to disbelief, and his head falls back on the chair, rolling on his neck.
I shouldn’t have done that. I know it. The soldiers, standing stiff and silent along the walls of the room, know it, too. I fucked up.
“What do you know about the wedding?” I ask Reece fruitlessly, trying to sound calm, but my heart is thundering against my chest, and I can’t hear anything but the rush of my own blood in my ears. “Who planned it?”
Reece looks at me, but his eyes are glassy, unfocused. Blood is pulsing from his wound, the pulses growing further and further apart. The puddle at his feet is growing, and I know he doesn’t have long. Less than a minute.
I tell the soldiers to clean up as I turn and leave. Bloody footprints trail me down the hallway and up the stairs, but I barely pay attention. My thoughts are on Eve.
Who was she engaged to? And why? Reece said her father arranged it, but what does that mean? Did she have no say in it or was she in on the plan? I’d assumed she had no part in the attack at our wedding, but was that the truth or simply what she wanted me to think? I can hear my father’s voice in my head. I know exactly what he’d say if he were here.Sounds like your wife has a habit of seducing high-ranking members of enemy mob families. You have been manipulated, my son.
