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The rain still falls steadily as I walk up the small pathway to the house. Sean is behind me as I knock on the front door.
A moment passes before the door opens. The fucking weasel stares at me blankly, with gray hair and dark eyes and it takes every ounce of control not to cave his face in before he’s paid his penance.
″Can I help you?” he asks, the front door only partially open.
″I’m looking for Jason Parkin,” I say, flashing him a welcoming smile as I adjust my tie. “Is that you, sir?”
″Who’s asking?”
″My name is Callum Murphy and this is my brother Sean Murphy. We’re with an organization that specializes in rehabilitating pedophiles and helping them find work after prison. We’re looking for donations today, sir.”
The fuckhead squints as he glances between Sean and me. His eyes settle on my neck, tattoos showing, then to my hands. “Nice ink. You were in jail? For?”
″No, sir,” I shake my head. “Never been locked up.”
″So what makes you want to rehab sick people?”
The inviting smile I’ve been wearing turns into a wicked grin. The satisfying allure of cutting him soon stirs deep inside me, and the sadist in me is clawing to come out and play.
″I’m here for Haley Savino.”
He scratches the back of his head, tilting his gaze downward. He’s trying to hide any tells, but I’m not a fucking idiot. His eyes flash with hesitance, before settling on false concern. “Is Haley okay?”
Sean snorts. “Is anyone who has a piece of shit stepfather who molests them ever okay?”
Realization settles over his face as he steps behind the door and attempts to slam it shut. But I’m faster. My hand flies through the opening, clutching his throat.
″My wife is home.” His hand covers mine as he whispers.
″Good. I should gut her too for marrying such a cunt.”
I kick the door the rest of the way open, still holding his throat as I enter. “Here’s what is going to happen,chief. You’re going to write your wife a note and you’re going to come quietly. If you don’t, I’ll leave you on the floor in your blood for your children to find.”
He nods, eyes wide. Beads of sweat pour down his forehead and I can smell his fear.
Good, he should be scared.
I flash a toothy grin. I’m going to enjoy drawing this fucker’s blood.
Chapter twenty-one
Andishovesinsidethedressing room with me in tow, a pile of lingerie in her arms. We’ve been shopping all afternoon, and I’m exhausted. Cal responded to my first text immediately, but then I haven’t heard from him since. That, coupled with my hunger, and I don’t want to be trying on lingerie on right now.
Andi shuts the door, locks it, and starts undressing. “Come on, Hales.” She elbows me in the side, a grin plastered on her face. “I can’t believe you finally have a man. I’m so happy for you and I don’t even care if he is a mobster.”
″I prefer the term gangster.”
She laughs. “Of course you do.”
″How did you figure it out so quickly, anyway?”
″His tattoos. You’re forgetting I pined over what I thought was a dead gangster for a decade. I got to know all the tattoo markings.”
I stop, thinking about that. “But, Colby doesn’t have any tattoos.”
Andi rolls her eyes.
Her husband’s real name is Dominic. They’ve only been married about a month, with a shotgun wedding, but they dated ten years ago for a short time.
