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I hope you can do what I couldn’t—take down the Brothers and the Sparrows—our world will surely be a better place without them.
We never met, Star, but a seeker of answers knows a fellow soul even from afar.
I’m a Satan’s Sinner to my core—so if God can’t help you get the job done, maybe the man downstairs can.
Wishing you success in your investigation,
Bear
When D stopped reading, she turned to me, saw my clenched hands, and rumbled, “You can leave Temper with me.”
“Sweet fuck, I can taste that stench.” Conor coughed around a splutter as he pinched his nose and strode deeper into the container. “She’s awake,” he rasped, surprising me by grabbing the plastic bag and tearing into it. When his booted foot landed on Temper’s throat, D and I shared a glance. “Black,” Conor greeted, sounding only partially nasal.
The stench was getting stronger with every passing moment.
Sluggishly, Temper slapped at his feet, her body wriggling in an attempt to escape.
“The moment I met you,” Conor ground out, loading more pressure on her throat, “I knew you were trouble. As for the moment I heard of the Brotherhood, I knew they were asswipes, pretending their shit didn’t stink, pretentious and self-righteous. Nothing worse than someone claiming they’re perfect when they make pond scum seem saintly.”
“N-Not! Wrong woman. Wrong. Woman,” she croaked.
He released her then snagged her hair in his fist and dragged her over to a chair.
This time, the look D and I shared was bemused.
“Damn, this is hot,” she whispered.
“You should have seen him torture that Byrne guy.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “He’s yours. I can only drool from afar.”
Though I snorted, I didn’t argue.
She was fucking right.
He was mine.
All goddamn mine.
As Temper shrieked and cried out, Conor hauled her onto the chair. By that point, she was a shaking mess.
“What are you doing?” she cried, the words still faintly slurred.
“How did you know Muñoz was hunting Star?”
Her head rolled on her shoulder but she started snickering until Conor backhanded her. “That’s what you’re asking?”
“What should he be asking?” I queried, stepping closer to Temper.
Her eyes peeped open. “Funny when you try to stop something from happening and you make it happen anyway.”
“Stop with the bullshit, Temper,” D growled. “Answer the question.”
“Own flesh gonna kill me. What would Uncle Gene say?”
“He’d say you’re a traitorous cunt.”
“Doubt it.” Temper groaned. “He likes me. Never liked you. Everyone always likes me, Lucinda. You’re the one everybody hates.”
