Page 2 of To Curse A Knight

“He took something from me.” Lauchlan’s response was direct and assured, with enough of a bite I believed him. “Something priceless, and I’m plotting payback.”

They stared at each other for a long minute. Aaron and I stood silent like the trained bodyguards we were, knowing this was Hillary’s mercy or punishment to deliver.

“Who’d he take from you?” She delivered the question knowingly—my Killer saw through the mask and into the pain of his statement. She would have made an effective FBI agent—even though she’d never follow orders and her attitude was shit.

“Someone important.” The haunted shadows of tormented men filled the Irishman’s gaze. He stared through the other side into Hillary’s fierce expression, but didn’t say another word.

“Is that why you followed me here tonight?” She lowered the gun only slightly, but relaxed her posture. I’d seen Hillary shoot at a range firsthand—she’d get off a kill shot within a second if she changed her mind—but I doubted Lauchlan knew that.

His own posture loosened, and the cocky gleam reentered his stare; a soft smirk spread across his features.

Insufferable.

“Nah, love. I followed yeh ’cause I was bored and hoping for a lay. Never imagined I’d run into two lays at once. Happy coincidence.” He dipped his head toward me—I could have strangled him with my bare hands—but he didn’t elaborate.

He gestured to the gun still held tight in her right hand, though now dangling by her side.

“Are yeh gonna kill me, Blondie?” He winced and made slow movements to push himself off the ground, never breaking eye contact. “If you’re reconsidering, can I stand for a minute?”

Her blue eyes darkened to raging seas. “Try anything and you’ll lose a kneecap.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

He rose to his full height—taller than Hillary, shorter than Aaron and I—and rolled his shoulders, as if we were equals in this conversation.

“I dunno what kinda shyte I stumbled in on, but if you’re taking Alvarez out, I want a seat at the table.”

Aaron snorted in disbelief, his sneer cracking the layers of blood on his cheeks into flaking paint chips. “You have nothing to offer,Rojo. We have bigger problems to contend with.” His swollen gaze met my own, the commanding presence of a leader still bleeding through. “I have an incinerator nearby. That will do, no?”

“Ay, rather than be barbecued,” the Irishman interrupted, “I have something to offer, and I doubt you lot can match it.”

Soft green eyes flitted between the three of us, calculating and determined. “I’m an inside man, with access to his networks. It’s only a matter of time before I break the firewall. I’ve a plan to expose every sordid, shady, fuckin’ detail that family has ever done. You want an inside man?I’mthat man.”

Hillary’s shoulder brushed mine as she shifted her weight and cocked her head in consideration. The murderous look slowly leached from her eyes. “You work in tech…”

“Yes, Blondie. Tech.”

A silent conversation passed between them, intense stares of hopeful consideration and hesitant mistrust expanding into the room.

Finally, Hillary broke the deafening tension.

“I don’t trust you whatsoever, Lucky. But I believe you could be our inside man.”

She turned her attention back to Aaron and me. “He was having dinner with Gertie Baker, Marco’s executive assistant, a few weeks ago. She told me they both work for him. It supports this half-cocked theory, anyway.”

I had no idea who Gertie was, but I trusted Hillary’s assessment. My life was complicated enough—I hated killing men who didn’t deserve to be killed, but I was on board with Aaron’s cremation idea. Adding the irritating Irishman to our mix was going to cause a whole other host of problems I didn’t have time to deal with.

Especially now we’d have to hide Rodriguez from my father, and risk the brutal torture that came along with that decision.

Aaron and I shared a dark look—the glare seeping through the slits of his eyes would have made lesser men tremble. Whatever was coming, we weren’t going to like it.

Once this was settled, we’d talk about the inevitable price on Rodriguez’s head. We’d have a day—two max, to come up with a plan, or Antonio would make sure someone else finished the job I’d come here to do.

And I’d enjoy a pleasantly delivered torture session for my insolence. Another branding to remind me of my duty.

“You’re still living with your mother?”

Hill’s question caught me off guard, snapping my attention back to the two of them. Lauchlan’s brows crinkled in confusion, but he nodded.

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