Page 153 of Nest of Thieves
“Yeah, he’s dead. Fucker.” Mac shakes his head and runs a hand over his hair. “You should have let me kill him.”
“I didn’t need you to kill him for me. I needed to do it myself.” When I told the guys Damien was also Laurence, they weren’t exactly surprised. It was easy to connect the dots of the Philly persona and the Atlantic City persona. While we all had our frustrations with Damien, I wanted to be the one to kill him.
He threatened my family.
“I can respect that,” Lark admits. “But I’m still annoyed you sedated us without telling us.”
“I’m sorry.” And that’s the truth. “I should have told you my plan.”
“Eh, you were probably better off not telling us.” Mac grins. “I would have attacked him.”
I roll my eyes and toss my good arm into the air. “See? That’s why I did it.”
The four of us laugh, and Vette places his hand on my stomach, snuggling in.
“Where were you going?” Lark asks.
“What do you mean?” I cover my mouth as I yawn.
“We found you on the porch,” Mac explains.
“Oh.” I try to remember the sequence of events. Damien came in and tried to shoot me. I hit him and shot him. After that, all I remember is pain. Maybe panic? “I don’t know. The hospital, I guess? I was a little drunk.”
“A little?” Vette chuckles. “You almost drank the whole bottle by yourself.”
“I was stressed out, okay?” I huff and run my fingers over the ring on Vette’s finger, frowning. “The king is dead.”
“Mmm.” He presses his fingers into my shirt. “Long live the queen.”
I grin. “Queen, huh?”
“Yup. The queen and her knights.” Lark joins us on the bed, and Mac follows, both of them carefully sitting on the mattress so as not to jostle me too much.
“Do people know yet?”
“Not many. Doc and our guys at the shop. We were waiting to make sure you were fine before announcing Damien’s death.” Mac tickles my foot.
“And how will people take the news?” I glance around. “I’m assuming his people were loyal.”
“There’s a difference between being loyal and being scared. Most of us only did as we were told because he was a ruthless asshole. There may be a few people who are mad, but we’ll deal with them.” Lark checks his phone. “Orc will have to go.”
“You’re going to kill him?”
“I didn’t want to, but he’s here now, probably looking for Damien like a good little lapdog. He just walked into the kitchen.” Sighing, he pockets the phone and pulls a gun from the shoulder holster. “Give me a minute.”
“Fifty says it takes you two.” Mac squeezes my foot. “He’s got a slow trigger finger.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” Lark leaves the room.
I try to climb out of the bed to follow after him, but Vette won’t let me go. “He’s got it, mami. You should rest.”
“What if he gets hurt?”
BANG.
Swallowing a gasp, I stare at the door, willing Lark to return unscathed. A few seconds pass before he slips back into the room. He glances at Vette’s arm banded around my waist.
“What did I miss?”
