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I wonder where she’s going to put it. I can live with it as long as it’s not in the bedroom. I don’t think I could fuck Mellie with that thing looking at me with its dead, cold brown eyes.
Walking into the condo, I place the two bags of groceries on the kitchen countertop. I watch silently as Mellie carefully unwraps her little dog, turning it over in her delicate fingers.
I open my mouth to ask her where she will place it when she beats me to it.
“Do you have a toolkit?”
“Uh. Sure,amhuirnín.” I cross to my office, retrieving the small toolbox. Mellie is still standing in the kitchen when I come out, so I place the box on the countertop in front of her. Is she going to mount the thing?
Mellie peers into the box, extracting a hammer and weighing it in her hands.
“I might have some nails -.”
Mellie turns abruptly before I can finish my sentence. Closing my mouth, I trail her curiously as she hurries onto the balcony.
Setting the little dog on the tiled floor in the middle of the balcony, she kneels over it, clutching the hammer in both hands. What the devil is the lass doing?
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the metal sliding doorframe, watching as she clenches her jaw, swinging the hammer. It comes down, smashing the figurine into pieces with a small crunching noise.
A satisfied smile tugs at Mellie’s lips as I watch. She brings the hammer down a few more times, pulverizing all the small pieces. Sitting back on her heels, she lets out a contented sigh.
“D’ye feel better,amhuirnín?”
Her wide blue eyes turn on me, and she smiles, nodding. “Much better. Could you get me a broom?”
My eyes drink her in for another moment as I nod. Turning, I fetch the dustpan and broom, waving her away as I sweep up the porcelain dust, taking it and emptying it into the trash.
Mellie follows me inside, smiling brightly at me. “Did you want to shower with me?”
All thoughts of asking what the hell smashing the dog was all about flee my head.
“Aye,amhuirnín. I very much do.”
Mellie giggles, beckoning to me as she starts to undress, leaving a trail of clothing for me to follow, all the way into our ensuite bathroom.
Chapter Twenty-Five
NIALL
Paddy has finally fucking recovered from the beating he took taking a dive to appease the Italians. Step one in getting them to back off his little lass. Now my part comes into play. Four names. Four hits.
I would have already taken care of it, but Paddy insisted on being there for each of them. I would have ignored him and gone ahead with it anyway, but I’d want to be there if it was for Mellie, so I’ve stayed my knife.
Jesus fuck, I’m glad he’s ready to do this. I’ve been itching to carve someone up, and Sean and Seamus still won’t let me at Hart fucking Remington. Some issue abouttiming, whatever the fuck that means.
This is the third hit. Connor and the lass are playing poker when I arrive at Paddy’s house in West Roxbury, and Paddy has his hand up the lass’s skirt. That’s not a way I’ve ever seen poker played, but it seems to work for the lass.
Connor snaps sourly at Paddy when she wins that he distracted the lass until she had no tells. Very clever of Paddy. It takes a lot for Connor to lose at the poker table. The lad is a natural.
Paddy asks for five minutes, and while Connor and I drink coffee, Paddy fucks his little lass in the parlor across the hall from us.
“How’s life with Mellie?”
I glance over at Connor, shrugging at him. “It’s grand.”
“Sure, and I’m glad to hear it, Niall.”
“It would be grander if I could gut Hart fecking Remington like the slimy fish he is.”
