Page 190 of Offside Devil

The nanny who sang Italian lullabies to my scared four-year-old can’t be a murderer.

Mira, with her soft skin and silky mouth and warm words, can’t be a murderer.

“How much do I need to pay you to forget all of this?” I ask.

Ian arches a brow. “The agreed-upon fee already includes my silence. Men in my line of work who go around blackmailing people have a funny way of turning up dead. I don’t intend on making any enemies.”

I slip Ian the cash and he leaves without another word. I don’t look to see which way he goes. I just get back into my car and lock the doors.

76

ZANE

“So the girl killed her psycho daddy!” Owen bellows with a shrug. “Sounds like the abusive wanker got what was coming to him!”

“Would you fucking keep it down?” I growl.

Owen looks pointedly around the diner. There are usually a few people scattered around on Thursday evenings when we come here for our regular meetings, but right now, this place is dead. The only person who might be close enough to hear us is an elderly man currently dozing over a copy of the day’s paper.

“We’re alone,” he says. “Even if we weren’t, it sounds like your girlfriend is good at hiding. She’ll get away and disappear if she needs to.”

What if I don’t want her to disappear?

I drop my face into my hands. “This was supposed to clear my head.”

I called Evan over to watch Aiden so Owen could meet me here. I went out of my way to have this meeting to try to make some sense of the bullshit clouding my thoughts, but we’ve been here for an hour and nothing is clear.

“It’s going to take more than a coffee to clear up what you’ve got.” Owen takes a loud sip from his own mug. “Maybe you should’ve been tellin’ me what’s been going on with you at our meetings instead of blowing smoke up my bum the last few weeks.”

“I haven’t been blowing smoke anywhere. I just… I didn’t know what was going on.” I pat the folder on the table like it might spontaneously combust any second. “Now, I do.”

“Still. I’m here to help you when times get tough. Aiden was sick, your assistant was pulling one over on ya, and yer nanny offed her da. No one would blame you for thinking a drink might take some of that edge off.”

“I thought about it once,” I admit, “but I didn’t do it. I know it won’t help.”

He jabs a meaty finger at me. “Next time, come talk to me. Even if it’s just to say exactly that. I want to know you’re okay.”

Owen is frowning, but there’s genuine concern shining in his eyes.

This is the closest we’ve ever been to a sentimental moment. I consider pointing that out. Maybe thanking Owen for always being there for me when I needed someone.

Then he sags back in the booth. “And this nanny has got your tadger in a vise, so you couldn’t even find relief that way. You’re up shit creek.”

Just like that, the moment is gone.

“Mira doesn’t have my tadger.”

“No, it’s even worse,” he grumbles. “The lass has your heart.”

I wince. “I wish everyone would stop pretending to know how I feel.”

“Then you should stop being so obvious about it.”

I flip him off.

He just smiles.

“So—” He kicks one leg over the other knee and leans back. “—what are you going to do about the little murderess?”

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