Page 11 of Dirty Delivery

“A statue?” Declan repeats, blinking. “Jesus Christ, Rylan. What were you doing? Hosting an art auction?”

“Not the time for jokes, Declan.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he snaps. Sarcasm drips from every word. “I’ll try to be more serious while we’re all being hunted by the Castillos, who are now out for blood because my idiot brother couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

“He was attacking a woman,” I growl. “What was I supposed to do? Let him finish?”

Declan pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something that sounds a lot like a prayer. “And who, exactly, was this damsel in distress? Because knowing you, I doubt she’s uninvolved in this mess.”

I hesitate again, and his head whips up. “Oh, for the love of . . . You’ve got her at the house, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t just leave her,” I admit, crossing my arms defensively. “She’s got nothing to do with this. She’s innocent.”

Declan’s laughter is sharp and humorless. “Innocent? You’ve got an innocent girl holed up in that haunted mansion of yours while the Castillos are gearing up for war? Brilliant plan, Rylan. Absolutely foolproof.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I yell. “If she went back to her house, they would have found her. What was I supposed to do? Leave her there and hope for the best?”

“No, you were supposed to call me,” Declan bites out. “Because now, thanks to your genius, we’ve got a body to hide, a war to prevent, and . . .” He pauses, eyes narrowing. “Wait. What did you do with the body?”

“I already handled that,” I say flatly, bracing myself.

Declan stares at me like I just admitted to robbing a bank with a water pistol. “What do you mean, you handled it?”

“I called Sam.” I cross my arms. “He’s already taken care of it.”

Declan explodes. “You called Sam? Are you insane? That guy couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. You might as well have hired a marching band to announce it to the entire city!”

“Sam knows to keep it off the books I paid him personally.”

Declan throws his hands up pacing the room in frustration. His movements are sharp, almost theatrical, as he lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, great. That’ll keep him quiet for, what, two days? Until he drinks too much and starts bragging to his buddies about the ‘favor’ he did for Rylan Doyle? Fantastic. Just fantastic.”

My fists clench at my sides, heat rising to my face. “Do you have a better idea?” I step closer, my voice low and biting. “Because I was a little busy saving someone’s life while you were probably sipping scotch and admiring your reflection.”

He stops pacing, spinning on his heel to face me. His jaw tightens and eyes flash with anger. “Better idea? Yeah, I do. You call me before you make boneheaded decisions that could get us all killed!”

I take another step forward, refusing to back down. “Well, it’s too late for that. Sam’s already handled it. The body’s gone, and nobody’s going to find it.” My voice drops even lower, a quiet growl that fills the tense space between us.

Declan stares at me for a long moment, his jaw ticking. “If this comes back to bite us, I swear to God, Rylan—”

“It won’t,” I say firmly, even though doubt gnaws at the edges of my confidence.

Declan shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “You’d better hope not. Because if the Castillos find out what really happened, we’re all dead. You, me, and your precious girl.”

His words hit harder than I’d like, and I’m forced to take a deep breath to keep my temper in check. “I’ll fix this,” I say finally, my voice low. “You just need to trust me.”

Declan stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he shakes his head. “Trust you? That ship sailed a long time ago, brother. Just don’t make it worse.”

He grabs his drink and walks away, leaving me alone with the weight of my mistakes and a sinking feeling that this is only the beginning of the storm.

Chapter Ten

Savannah

This house feels like a cage. A really nice, ridiculously expensive cage, but a cage all the same. After pacing the guest room for what feels like hours, I finally decide I can’t just sit here anymore. If Rylan won’t tell me what’s going on then I’ll find out for myself.

I peek out into the hallway. Empty. The whole place feels deserted, except for the faint whir of something mechanical in the distance. Maybe central air, maybe the hidden gears of the universe turning against me. Either way, it’s time to move.

The house is eerily quiet as I make my way down the hall, my bare feet silent against the polished wood floors. I’m not entirelysure what I’m looking for, but this place has secrets—Rylan has secrets. And I’m done playing the clueless guest.

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