Page 78 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
When I followed him from that bar to the abandoned building, I realized it was the one I went to with Paddy and Stan. Paddy was… I don’t know. I never disliked him or liked him beyond his being Stan’s friend and someone who knew things that might help me get what I wanted.
But it was all surface crap. He was always showboating.
He’s nothing like Seamus.
I try to stop myself from looking around, my hand wrapping tight around my glass. He’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine. I might want him dead, but not yet, and no one else gets to do it. No one.
That’s all. I need him alive for at least a year. I need…
I don’t care about him.
My pulse throbs hard against my throat as I glance at my phone.
Five minutes. Another five minutes have passed. That makes it ten. Ten minutes too many. My chest tightens. I down my drink and stand up on shaky legs.
I have to go back in there for him. I swallow hard, turn, and slam straight into someone.
My blood surges as strong hands close on my arms. My stomach flips when I catch that familiar scent. It’s now mixed with copper.
I don’t mean to, I swear I don’t, but I grab Seamus’s face and bring it in for a long kiss. Then I snarl out words. “Are you hurt? I can smell blood.”
“Just some cuts. I’m good.” His smile is dark and lazy. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t. But I need you alive.”
“Good to know I’m still of some importance.”
The bartender comes over with a bottle and two glasses. Seamus slips her a wad of cash as he takes it.
“Nice corner, sweet thing,” he says, gesturing for me to sit.
When I hesitate, he pressures my shoulder down so I sink into the booth.
He follows, sitting next to me. Taking his time as though he didn’t just survive some kind of mad shootout that came with a fireworks display, he pours two drinks. He picks up his and downs it, leaving some blood on the glass, then pours another.
I frown, snatch his hand, and use my phone light to inspect it. I grab a napkin to clean some of the drying blood. There are small cuts but no glass, nothing but dirt, so I pick up the bottle and pour some of the liquid on the base of his palms.
“Ow, fuck.” He tries to pull his hand free, but I don’t let him. I try to clean him up as best I can. “You’re a fucking weirdcreature, Ava. I thought the idea of my blood outside my body made you come in your pants.”
I shoot him a withering look. “Only if it’s life blood, Seamus.”
“Girl like you, I bet she’s got a blade on her.”
I don’t, but I just continue to clean the wounds. They’re mild, but for some reason I don’t want to stop. And for some reason he’s not fighting me.
“You being dead doesn’t help me get my bratva.”
“That’s true.” He pauses, fingers curling up over mine, holding me there. “How’d you get out of the house without all the alarms going off?”
“No one’s there.”
“Dec’s home. No one’s stupid enough to leave you alone.”
“But they’re stupid enough to let me walk out?” Our gazes clash, meld. “I saw you put the code in, Seamus. I remembered it.”
“So you went up, changed, snuck back down, and escaped. With my gun. At least you didn’t try and shoot me with it. Instead, you used his giant-ass weapon,” Seamus says.
“You should hide your weapons better in your room,” I say.
