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Shit, Iknowhow. Already having Ava nearby has me making stupid mistakes because there’s no other explanation for me missing the dark ink on the bastard’s forearm during my earlier sweep. It’s not like it’s hidden. When his dead body crumpled on the floor, his arm splayed out, and there it is.
A dragonfly.
Damien Lubelulla’s symbol that he has inked on every member of his Family.
I swallow my curse and barely restrain the urge to bloody my shoe, kicking the worthless piece of shit’s corpse away from me. Only knowing I’d make a bigger mess in Ava’s living room and probably scare her further keeps me from giving in to my rage.
I thought she was off-limits. For fifteen years, I made it clear that none of my men would ever target Ava. Most of the soldiers thought it was because she was a respected teacher at Springfield Elementary, while those higher up in the syndicate guess there’s more than that. Only my underboss has any clue that I’ve spent the last fifteen years watching her from the shadows, and that’s because Royce caught me doing it a couple of summers ago.
But I made a mistake. A big one.
She was off-limits to my syndicate, yeah. What about Damien’s Family?
Walking back over to the front door—no Burns yet, but he’ll be here soon—I close the door behind me and turn the lock. Then, nodding at Ava, I sidle past her again. I keep my face turned away so that she can’t see the murder in my gaze; as fragile as she is right now, I can’t risk her thinking the look is meant for her. Snagging the tousled blanket hanging off the back of her couch, I snap my wrist, covering the corpse with it.
I’ll buy her a new blanket. I’ll buy her a hundred. But, right now, I’m not going to make Ava stay in this room with the remains of that bastard, a reminder to both of us that she was forced to protect herself.
“I… thank you. I— I didn’t think to cover Joey.”
So, I was right. The car out front… knowing it was one of Ava’s exes… everything added up to the dead bastard being her last boyfriend—but I have to double-check.
“Joey Maglione?”
Ava frowns. “Uh… yeah, actually.” Understanding is slow to dawn, and when it does, she trembles. “Shit, Link, did you know him? Was he you friend? Oh my God—”
“He wasn’t my friend,” I tell her, using enough force to bring her back from the brink.
That’s true. Even if I wouldn’t have considered anyone with a dragonfly tat an enemy because he’s part of the Libellula Family and I’m a Sinner, I hated Joey Maglione for another reason.
He had Ava. One of the lucky few she chose after I gave her up, if only for a few months at the beginning of this year, he could call Ava his.
I knew it. I knew whenever she got a new boyfriend, partner, lover, fling. I’d had Tanner run this one, too, and he came back clean. No ties to any crime rings in Springfield, but whether our intel was old or he recently joined up, it doesn’t matter. Someone fucked up and now Ava is paying the price.
A Dragonfly in her cozy home. It could be because they found out she had ties to me, or it could just be coincidence. Either way, he hurt her, now he’s dead, and she needs me.
I gesture for her to take a seat on the couch. Shaky, distraught, her pretty green eyes dazed over, she trips over her feet, dropping down on the farthest cushion. Following her lead, giving her some space, I brace my twitchy fingers against the couch’s arm.
“Okay, Ava. I’m here now.” I’ll take care ofeverything. “Just, first, tell me what the fuck that prick did to you.”
FOUR
PROPOSAL
AVA
Idon’t realize just how much I expected Link to blame me for what happened until I finish telling him all about it and the only thing he says when I’m done is, “Good. Fucker deserved it.”
I blink, stunned. Having him here, sitting on my couch in his fancy get-up, oozing confidence and an “I’ve fucking got this” attitude, I’ve calmed down a little. The way he covered Joey’s body helps, too, and I only stumbled a few times when I got to the point in my story where he grabbed my face, tripping me to the floor, then shoving his hand up my shorts.
Link did stop me there. His eyes—impossibly black compared to the deep brown I remembered—seemed to burn as he leaned forward in his seat, asking, “Did he…”
He doesn’t use the word.Rape. He doesn’t have to, either. It’s obvious what Joey’s intents were, and while I shot him before he could, I was still assaulted and we both know it.
I shook my head, though, and Link didn’t push. He just waited for me to finish.
So I did. I called him because I needed his help, and he can’t do anything until he knows exactly what he’s dealing with. The way he reacted so blasé when he found Joey on the floor just proves that he was the only one I could call. Who else would shrug over a dead body like it was nothing the way he did?
This is part of his job, right? This is what he does. People die—and I’m not so naive to think he’s not responsible for some—and he makes them disappear. He can make Joey disappear, too.
