Page 38 of Hustle

“Yeah,” he says. “Fucking stupid. But Dad’s worried more than he’s mad.”

The rage pounding in my skull makes it hard for me to concentrate. I told her not to go to the goddamn Carneys. What the hell is she thinking? And to top it all off, I’d called her several times and she’d only sent brief texts back. Now I know why. Fuck.

“Okay,” I say. “Thanks, Kieran. I’ll talk to her.”

“If she’s agreed to anything with them,” Kieran says darkly.

“I’ll get her out of it.”

“I was just going to offer to bash in their heads. You know I’d love to crack Finn’s goddamn smug face in.”

I snort, despite myself. “I do know that. But we can’t beat their heads in until we know they deserve it.”

“They deserve it for always wearing those goddamn scally caps like a goddamn Boston Irish cliché. Could fucking draw them out by dragging a potato through the streets.”

I laugh again. None of us like the Carneys, but none of us hate them quite as uniquely as Kieran does.

“I’ll be in touch.”

We end the call, and I fight the urge to call Evi immediately. Instead, I work on some cases back at my office, and call her close to dinner time.

She sounds tired and it cuts through my anger immediately.

“Seamus. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

“Can I bring you dinner?” I ask.

She’s quiet for nearly half a minute. It feels like an eternity.

“Um. Sure. I have a client until 7:00. After that, okay?”

“Of course. Anything in particular you’re hungry for?”

There’s another long pause.

“Oh,” she says finally. “I wasn’t sure if you were making a sex joke.”

“It’s not a joke with you, Evi.” I say, my voice deepening. Visions of her perfect body float through my mind. My lizard brain imagines Finn fucking Carney touching her and it fills me with rage.

“I know,” she says, her voice soft. It goes right to my cock. “Bring whatever you want. Come up to my loft. I’ll wait for you there.”

I decide to pick up sushi, and a nice bottle of wine. At 7:00 p.m. sharp I get to her shop. The green-haired kid, Toby, seems to expect me and points up the stairs.

There’s another tattoo artist in the shop, a small Asian woman who’s covered in tattoos herself. I give her a nod, but don’t stop to converse, climbing up to Evi’s loft. She shouts to come in when I knock. I do, locking the door behind me. I worry about her carelessness when it comes to security. Putting the food on her kitchen table, I hug her from behind, kissing her neck.

“It’s good to see you,” I whisper. God, just being next to this woman has an effect that’s soothing.

As mad as I was about the Carneys, I had to admit that I’d missed Evi these past few days.

“Don’t freak out,” she says quietly.

“Evi?” My voice is tight with concern “Are you okay?”

What the fuck has Finn done to her? I don’t even know the answer and already I’m feeling very committed to the idea of hurting him. Kieran, the Doyle family enforcer, can wait his fucking turn. She turns around, and my gaze goes right to her blackened right eye.

Holy shit.

“Who did this to you?” My voice is cold, my rage turning to fury. “Did Finn do this to you? Evi?”

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