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“Sorry,” I say. “It just happened.”
“Rowan, man. I got caught up in the moment. Then when I didn’t hear from you…”
I crack my neck, doing my best not to attack him. Yet. “You stopped answering my calls, mother fucker. Then I find out you’re marrying her. And you touched her!”
“It was her!” He points to the door. “Louisa started it.”
Grabbing him by the shirt, I drag his ass up. I’m not sure if I’m that strong, that angry, or he’s just that scrawny, but I’m able to throw him clear across his bed, where he lands in a heap on the other side.
He sits up and his arms come up protectively when I stalk to him. “Security will come if I scream.”
That makes me pause, more because it strikes me as funny than scaring me as he intends. “Do you think I would have been able to come in so easily if they weren’t on my payroll? Did I teach you nothing? Always get the guards on your side, Petey Boy!”
Again, he gets that confused expression that shows that as much as he wanted to be a gangster, the most he ever dared to do was gamble in underground casinos.
That’s where I found him, wasting away his trust fund money, pretending he was a baller, when he had no experience with the big boys. Rich yet stupid.
He was perfect for the job I needed done. Court her. Flash his father’s money and business power. Peter’s family has enough wealth that I knew Fernando wouldn’t object much to his daughter dating him. But his weak constitution disqualified him as husband material.
All he had to do was smile, look pretty, and keep his dick in his pants.
In turn, I’d show him a few ropes. Introduce him to some people that would make him feel dangerous.
It was meant to be a temporary plan while I gained more power myself, something not easy to do under my uncles’ rule. Then Gideon Black showed up and threw a wrench in it all. It distracted me, made me afraid to make any move that might put his attention on Lou.
I took my eye off the situation momentarily, and Peter got too big for his britches.
From my ankle holster, I produce a blade and glance at it. It’s not very long, two and a half inches. But it’s sharp, and that’s all I need.
Peter plasters himself against the wall. “Rowan, I-I don’t know what’s going on here. I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“Do you remember what I told you the penalty would be if youdidtouch her?” I ask, flicking my narrowed gaze from the knife to him.
“Hey-hey, man.” He frantically shakes his hands in front of him as he pushes himself farther up the wall. “I didn’t want to do it. I told you. Fuck, I didn’t even like it.”
“You didn’t like it?” I take step closer. “You mean to tell me you fucked my girl, knowing full well I’d kill you for it, and you didn’t even like it?”
“Please!” If he could melt into the wall, I believe he’d try. “Give me another chance. I’ll do anything you want. I can talk to her father, put in a good word for you. He trusts me. Just one more chance. Everyone deserves a second chance.”
I soften my gaze and tilt my head as I flip the blade in my hand, end over end, catching it by the hilt each time. “Someone said those exact words to me a long time ago. Everyone deserves a second chance. His name was Johnny Roscoe.”
Peter takes a small step to the left, eying the door as if getting to it would mean his salvation. “What happened to him?”
“I thought he was right. Everyone deserves a second chance,” I say, and he visibly relaxes. “But my uncle didn’t agree and stabbed him in the neck. Forced me to watch as Johnny bled to death all over the rug.”
“Wh-what do you believe now?” He seems so hopeful, I almost feel bad for him.
“I still believe everyone deserves a second chance. That is, anyone who hasn’t fucked Lou.” Quicker than he can react, I throw my weapon in his direction, the blade hitting its mark with a thud.
Surprise etched in his blue eyes, Peter pulls the knife from his throat and stares at it. Then it drops from his hand, landing on the floor at the same time as he does.
I watch Peter die the way I did with Johnny. Watch his blood flow onto the expensive rug. Only, this time, I’m not sorry. Peter won’t haunt my dreams or torment me when I’m on my own deathbed and have to account for all the lives I’ve taken. I’m not sure if it’s because he deserved it, or because I’ve done this so many times, the faces of the men I’ve killed are nothing but a blur.
Just like with sex, you remember your first and your last. Everything in between is just a number.
Or maybe Iwillremember him. Out of all the men Lou dated, all the men I had to threaten, he was the only one stupid enough to have slept with her.
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