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I make a face, which Fiona mirrors. It would be wicked bad.
NIALL
I hesitate outside the basement door. When Seamus called, he was apoplectic with rage. I had seen red too when he told me what Tahlie had done, but it’s one thing to want a lass dead. It’s another thing entirely to be the one to do it.
Taking a deep breath, I stalk into the room. Tahlie is tied to the bloodstained table in the middle of the room, looking terrified.
Ignoring her, I cross to my locker and shove my jacket inside, stripping off my shirt. She finds her voice before I can get my T-shirt on, and I freeze.
“There’s no need to put that on,” she murmurs seductively. “This is all a big misunderstanding. Why don’t you come over here? You can fuck my mouth, and I’ll explain everything to you.”
Why would I want to fuck her mouth? The only mouth I’m interested in is Mellie’s. Tahlie does less than nothing for me.
I tug on my shirt, turning and glaring at her. As our eyes lock, she flinches, shrinking back into the table. When I talk, I make sure to use my “Reaper voice,” as Mellie calls it.
“Ye started some rumors about Tiggy,” I rumble. Tahlie flinches again, blinking rapidly. “Why was that?”
“I don’t know who spread rumors about me, but they aren’t true,” she whines. “I didn’t start any rumors. I do my job, and I look after you lads. That’s it. This is a smear campaign.” Her eyes spark. “I bet Seamus’s wife found out we used to fuck and got jealous of me. She probably told him lies to get me out of the way. They’re using you. You shouldn’t let them.”
Stifling a sigh, I turn to my toolbox, plucking out a pair of gardening shears. I clean them between visits down here, but they still have a rust-colored stain from the blood.
I weigh them in my hands, her whining accusations washing over me. I don’t think you could say Sean or Seamus are using me. I know exactly what I signed up for when I pledged my life to them. This is distasteful, but it’s still part of my job.
Turning back to her, my eyes flicker over her fingers. They’re colorful talons, completely different from Mellie’s neatly manicured nails. Mellie’s are usually blue to match her eyes or brown to match her hair. Tahlie’s are bright pink and over an inch long.
I reach over, my fingers almost brushing the backs of hers, when Tahlie lets out an ear-splitting shriek, tears finally spilling over.
“I did it. I said those things about her,” Tahlie sobs. Jesus fuck, thank Christ. I didn’t want to have to start cutting off a lass’s fingers.
“I thought that ifhethought that she was being unfaithful to him, he’d stop acting so soppy in love with her. She’s so prissy and perfect. Why would someone like Seamus Fitzpatrick wantthat?” she wails. “How on earth could someone like that keep his attention? She probably only likes getting fucked missionary and makes him wash his dick with soap before she puts it in her mouth.Ifshe even sucks him off at all!”
I don’t need to learn about Fitzy’s sex life. This is why I don’t torture women. Well, this and I don’t like hurting lasses. It’swrong. But this lass, well, she’s not right in the head.
I stand here, the gardening shears dangling uselessly in my hand as she spends the next four hours alternatively crying, raging against Tiggy, or mooning over Seamus.
Every so often, she offers to suck me off or let me fuck her rough and raw if I’ll let her go.
Finally, she falls silent. I still haven’t touched her. She’s quietly crying to herself, mumbling under her breath.
“Please let me go. Please. I promise I won’t be any more trouble. I won’t tell. No one will have to know you let me go. I’ll leave Boston tonight and never come back.Please.”
Unfortunately, that’s not an option for her. Not anymore. Dropping the shears into the toolbox, I pick up a knife. Tahlie’s eyes land on it, her face contorting as she spits in my face.
“I hope someone comes along and kills her,” she hisses, her voice full of venom. I think we’ve reached acceptance, but she’s not going out without spilling some more vitriol first. “And I hope they rape her first.”
Jesus fuck. My hand snaps out, and her malicious words are cut off with a gurgle as her head tips forward. Quickly cleaning up, I wrap the body up, preparing to get rid of it.
Once I get back to the club, I head straight to Seamus’s office, where he, Paddy, and Connor are working their way through a bottle of whiskey.
“It’s done,” I tell him, giving him a quick rundown of what Tahlie had told me.
He’s incandescent with rage but manages to contain himself well. As soon as I can, I’m out of there. I have no intention of sitting and drinking with them. There’s only one thing I need right now. I stalk off in the direction of the VIP room, having changed out of my white T-shirt.
Mellie is at the bar, wiping it down. I slide onto the barstool across from her, nodding as she slides a glass of whiskey in front of me.
As she makes to turn and move away, my hand snaps out, snagging her wrist, keeping her in front of me.
“I need to see yer eyes,amhuirnín,” I tell her, not bothering to keep the desperation out of my voice. She blinks in surprise but fixes her eyes on mine as I let out a heavy sigh.
