Page 42 of Unlawful Lies

The man chuckles, the sound of granite rubbing together. “Does it truly matter?”

“How long, Louisa?” Nicola asks. “My mother is your best friend.”

“Yes, she is. And I love her the same way I love you.” A hint of a smile plays across her lips as she teases as she draws out the moment, keeping us on edge.

Then there’s the glint in her eyes, the scrunch of her nose, and the small glimmer of satisfaction.

“You call this love?” Nicola asks, then hisses when the knife bites deeper into her jugular.

“You tell me.” Those three words are said with such force they scorch themselves across my skin.

Now Louisa glances at me, defiant, her age melting away.

Her narrowed eyes turn to the man in the fedora, and the gun bursts to life under her fingers. A rapid tap tap of multiple shots fired, and it takes me too long to realize the tall man’s body jumps with each pop.

They catch him in the shoulder, and it's enough to weaken his hold on Nicola. She remains on her knees as the fedora man stumbles, taking a massive step back and coloring the white gravel with his blood.

“You—how could you—” he breaks off with a groan, coughing up more blood. His hat skews to the side.

Louisa stares him down and holds the gun back out to me. “Sorry about the tackle, young man. Carrying my own weapon would have been too suspicious.”

“What are you doing?” Nicola is crying, and despite the distance between her and Fedora, I’m not satisfied.

I’m also unable to move from the grip of exhaustion.

Louisa turns away from me and gazes at the man on his side, trying to push himself back up to his feet, one hand on the bullet hole in his shoulder.

“How could you?” he repeats his question.

Louisa nods before adjusting her grip on the kitchen knife. “An old woman like me makes the perfect target, doesn’t she? It also puts me above reproach.” She taps her leg, the one that’s shorter than the other and limps forward. Tottering on the uneven gravel. “You’d never suspect a double cross.”

“Louisa?”

“I’ll be right there, sweet pea. Right after I finish what I start.” A hint of a smile still lightens the woman’s lips as she crosses to the fedora man. “It never pays to leave loose ends flapping in the wind, does it?”

My delight is feral as she slices the knife across Fedora’s throat. Yet as the moments tick by, the atmosphere somehow changes, growing colder. A slow chill creeps its way into my blood, and by the time Louisa finishes her hack job, holding the man’s head in her hands, I’m practically shivering.

“Off your knees, little fox.” I somehow gather my wits at the same time I gather Nicola into my arms.

She buries her face against the crook of my neck and clings to me for dear life. Thankfully for her, I’m not willing to let her go. Now. Ever. Take your pick.

Louisa tosses the head into the fountain then dusts her hands off and only succeeds in smearing blood everywhere. “No one messes with our family,” she says pointedly, staring over Nicola’s head to steal my gaze. “No one.”

I incline my head as understanding blossoms. The old Englishwoman has my eternal thanks for whatever fucking part she played tonight.

Nicola presses her hand against my thrumming heart, every part of me tight and frozen. “You came for me.”

“You doubted me.” I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles.

Her eyes are too wide, too delicate for my peace of mind. “You are a liar, after all. What did we say about secrets?”

“I came tonight to make sure there were none left. The gambling, the debts.”

She nods in understanding. “Louisa told me.”

The old woman is already dragging the headless corpse toward the edge of the garden path. My gut tells me there’s a whole-ass novel waiting to be explored. Another time, another night.

“Death must be the glue that bonds people together,” I whisper. “I’ll tell you everything, little fox. You have my word. As soon as we clean up.”

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