Page 61 of Souls and Sorrows

But my tongue has other ideas.

“Drowning.”

A surprised sound comes from him. “That is… not what I was expecting.”

Moving the roller up and over, I turn my head. “Guns are too loud and too messy. Same with knives. Poison, well, it depends on the type you’re using, but that’s more of a long game. I wouldn’t want to watch you suffer.”

“How sweet.”

“Drowning is clean, and there’s not a large margin of error. No one can hold their breath forever, and empty vessels fill with whatever liquid they’re thrust into.” I purse my lips, nodding to myself. “If there’s a strength disadvantage, the water sort of evens the playing field.”

My mind drifts, letting the image play out. I watched my father’s men a lot as a kid, observing their behaviors and preferred mechanisms of body dumping when they didn’t think anyone was looking. It was easy to blend in when no one knew I was around in the first place.

It’s also something I’ve grilled my brother-in-law about extensively.

Cash looks genuinely interested, a strange expression on his face. “How would you get rid of the body? Cement shoes?”

I shake my head. “Decomposition would cause the body to detach from the ankles, so that wouldn’t work. It’d be better to weigh the chest cavity down with stones, ormaybecement, and sew some sort of heavy cloth around it to keep the body together.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Placing his roller on the ground, Cash pushes to his feet, and for a second, I think he’s leaving. Instead, he stalks over and grabs my bicep, pulling me up and dusting me off. His thumbs sweep beneath my eyes, the gesture so unwittingly tender that I have to look away before I do something stupid.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, fitting his pinkies beneath my jaw and forcing me to meet his gaze again. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Warmth clouds my cheeks. “Don’t make this weird.”

“It’s weird to tell my wife she’s beautiful?”

“Your fake wife.”

“Didn’t feel fake the other day when I had my fingers inside of you. Or when you let me paint your sweet face with my cum.”

My pussy throbs at the memory, and I push his hands away. “You don’t get to use that until youreallytouch me. Until then, this relationship exists on paper only.”

He retrieves his jacket from the floor, shrugging back into it. “Fair enough. Am I allowed to take you places still?”

“If I say no, are you going to just throw me over your shoulder and drag me out anyway?”

“No comment.”

* * *

Kal gives me a flat,unimpressed look as he pushes his lemon tea back from the edge of the table. Unbothered, I take a sip of my latte, glancing out the café window at the ocean lapping against the beach.

Thick pine trees and gorgeous cobblestone streets decorate the downtown area, almost making it look more like the recreational islands surrounding it. But a sinister presence lingers in the salty air, as if the eyes of the criminals who run the city are always lurking, waiting for someone to challenge them.

It’s beautiful, and when Stella and I came to live with Elena on the south side of the island after Papà’s arrest, I didn’t much mind the evil bleeding from its pores.

Felt like coming home.

Being back for the first time in years though feels a bit odd, especially since I’m not currently speaking to one of the two people I know here. As soon as the ferry docked today, Kal called, as if he had staff at the marina keeping him updated on who came and went off the island.

Not that I’d be shocked if that were the case. He does own half the land and most of its people.

“You’re giving your family business… to Cash Primrose?”

Wiping residue from my lip, I set my mug down and nod. “Yep.”

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