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Oh fuck. I know that appreciative look in Scar’s eyes.
“I like him. Can we keep him?”
Matteo looks all too smug as he looks at me. “Told you someone would want to be my friend.”
Scar meets my glare with a shrug. I know damn well she knows who the fuck she’s talking to. He’s not someone we can just adopt like she has a tendency to do with others. “He’s already working with Rachel. Might as well be friends.” She purses her lips in thought before beaming. “Hey, maybe he’ll even take out Nicholis Dickolis for me.”
Rachel snorts, her mask of indifference cracking as she throws her head back and cackles. The sound makes even my lips twitch. I’ve never seen her break character so freely in public before. Not that I can blame her. She’s wiping tears from her eyes when Matteo finally responds.
“Can’t kill him, but will be calling him that from now on. In thanks for such a magnificent new nickname, I’ll give him all the worst jobs.”
That’s it. He’s in as far as Scar is concerned. I don’t even have to see her face to know.
“Knew I liked you,” she beams.
Matteo puts his elbows against the table and leans forward on his hands. “So bestie, tell me all your secrets.”
Scar snorts. “I said friends, not family.” Her eyes harden as she smirks at him. “I can still kill friends.”
Well, at least she’s still a psycho. Just a psycho with friends apparently.
Epilogue Three Declan
About two yearslater
Why did I even come on this run?
I heave a sigh and run my hands over my face, wishing at least Luca or Noah were here too. No, instead I’m with the crazies. How did I even get roped into babysitter duty for Scarlett, Kade, and Ryder? It’s like trying to herd cats.
Pulling out my phone I send a text to both Luca and Noah to remind them they owe me for having to do this today. I thought they might grow out of some of their rashness after we finally settled old debts, but they seem to only get worse with age. More confident. More outlandish. Somehow, even more savage. Forever a game between the three of them to see who can top the others’ ridiculous antics.
At least today is a relatively easy run. All we have to do is clear out an abandoned warehouse. One of Josie’s teams already rescued and evacuated the visitors. All we have to do is go in and clean up the rest of the crew that missed the initial raid and have come back to salvage what they can.
It won’t be much. Josie’s teams are trained to be thorough. But since it was on our turf, it was obvious we could not only take care of this part, but also use it to send a clear message. We keep our city clear of the skin market. Publicly, we keep our noses out of it. As long as it stays out of our town.
Some brave soul thought to test that this week. Perfect time to set an example.
Which of course has the trio of psychos all excited as they come up with ideas for how to send a message. “We are not using intestines to spell out words, pretty girl. Absolutely the fuck not.” Why is she so obsessed with playing with organs? Kade opens his mouth to argue and I cut him off with a glare. Fucking cats, I swear.
“You guys are giving Declan gray hairs,” Noah laughs through the comms.
“That’s just his old age,” Ryder quips and I debate leaving them on their own and going back home.
“No, D,” Noah warns. “If you’re not there they really will decorate the warehouse with organs as Christmas decorations.”
Kade stops and looks thoughtful. “That’s actually a great idea.”
“No!” Noah and I both shout. Ugh. Fuck Noah for making a good point.
“What about painting the walls red?” Ryder asks. “With their blood. Obviously.”
I rub my temples as I motion for them all to start moving again. This run is going to take way longer than it should. I can already tell. “Why would you even want to?” The amount of work it would take for so little pay off. Make it make sense. “Just paint the rose like always.”
Scarlett huffs an annoyed sound. “We always do that,” she whines.
I eye her suspiciously. She’s always a brewer of chaos, a shit-stirrer, but why does she actually sound annoyed with me right now? Normally half the fun for her is that the three of us that are still somewhat sane become exasperated with her antics. She enjoys needling us. “That’s why it’s become your signature, pretty girl.”
“It’s boring.” She pouts, jutting out her bottom lip as she stops walking again. I sigh as I wrap my arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple.
