Page 25 of Killer Confections
“Yet,” Thalia interjects, pointing her glass towards Rowan. “So, when do we get to meet her?”
I set my phone down on the table, face up, so I can stillkeep an eye on Loxley. “The grand opening is tomorrow at noon if you want to come. I’m sure she would enjoy the crowd.”
Thalia slaps her hands together, looking far more giddy than I thought she would. “Family trip! You’re coming, Row.”
“I have paperwork,” he says distractedly, his eyes shifting to the kill catalog.
“Oh, come on!” Our sister protests. “All of that shit can wait. I just sent out a request for the Calaway hit, so no one else is making a move.”
The sound of a chair scratching against the floor causes us to turn in its direction. Alex, one assassin for the syndicate, shoots Thalia a vehement look from across the room. Others enjoying their drinks look over at him, everyone drawn to the potential fight. Even Dale stops behind the bar, his hands stilling as he cleans a glass.
“Fuck you, Kingsley!” He slurs. “You knew I wanted the Calaway hit.”
My sister perks up, her eyes taking on the psychotic energy she possesses so well. “Fight me for it, Alex. If you win, he’s all yours.”
The assassin considers her proposition, his eyes narrowing before he slumps back down in his chair. “Whatever. Fuckin’ have him for all I care.”
Thalia wilts, her shoulders sinking and that unsettling aura dying. “No fun.” She mumbles before turning back to Rowan. “So, you’re coming with us.”
My brother runs a hand over his mouth, and I think he’s going to fight her before he sighs deeply. “Fine. But I’m not staying long.”
“Yes!” My sister cheers, pumping a fist in the air. “I can’t wait to meet this woman. We’re gonna be best friends.”
Rowan and I share a look, our mental link working in that extraordinary way it always has.
Not a fucking chance.
Not happening.
I want to prevent Loxley from being tainted by thisorganization. Her getting close to Thalia is a surefire way for all of that to come crumbling down.
“What are you up to tonight?” Rowan asks me, lifting his glass to his lips as his eyes flicker to my phone screen.
He already knows, but he won’t say it.
I shrug, “Hunting.”
He chokes on his drink, slamming the glass down as I smirk. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. You’re not tormenting Loxley. Do you really think she’ll want to live on the compound with you after you’ve stalked her?”
He doesn’t know her like I do, I remind myself. He’s thinking too rationally. And maybe he is right. Maybe she will reject me in the end, but that isn’t going to stop me. I made a promise, and it wasn’t fucking empty. She’s coming with me one way or another.
“Why wouldn’t she?” I smirk, not divulging the rest of my plan with him.
***
The last of Loxley’s staff are leaving for the night. Three women, dressed down in tights and t-shirts, file out of the quaint bakery as they laugh and talk loudly to one another.
“See you tomorrow, boss!” One of the women, shorter than her two companions with dark brown curls, shouts through the bakery’s open door.
“Bring your game faces!” Loxley shouts back, coming into view from the other side of the kitchen’s swing door. She’s smiling brightly, her cheeks flushed with exertion. Her flyaway hairs stick to her sweaty forehead.
I’m parked a little further down the street in my blacked out car, the tinted window rolled down as my elbow rests on the seal. I raise my cigarette to my lips, inhaling as I watch the interaction in the exterior mirror.
The women on the sidewalk wave, leaving their manager alone in the store. The front door is propped open,allowing the fresh paint smell to air out and the dim lights from inside illuminate the walkway.
Being in my line of work for so long, I recognize everywhere my woman has done wrong. First, she allowed her staff to leave without going with them. She’s now alone. Second, she’s keeping the front door open, making it accessible for anyone off the street to just wander in unannounced. This part of Columbus is much quieter, but that doesn’t mean she should be reckless. Third, she isn’t paying attention to her surroundings. Just outside of her establishment, a hungry predator stalks, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
It’s all too perfect, yet so fucking infuriating. On one hand, I’m thankful for her naivety and blind trust she has for her surroundings. On the other hand, I wonder just how well hand prints would show on her pale ass.
