Page 8 of Tainted Wings of Failure

Evelyn

"I'm done," Noah says, and my head turns in his direction, standing at the island counter where he was cutting the venison.

"Thank you," I say with a smile on my face and take the cutting board with the meat from him.

Upon closer inspection, he managed to follow my instructions this time. I've been trying to get him more involved in the cooking process, hoping that he'll enjoy the activity and that it will become a hobby of his. But I don't know if it's weaponized incompetence or if he really doesn't understand what I want from him sometimes. Just yesterday I asked him to cut the carrots into small sticks but in the end, I got cubes. It's not that he complains when I ask for help, he even offers it, but he doesn't seem to get the hang of it. Sometimes I wonder how on God's green earth he can be so skilled at torturing and mutilating people but fail at the most mundane tasks.

"It's perfect." I smile and push the meat into the piping hot pot. The sound of sizzling meat immediately fills the space.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Could you go get me a bottle of that red wine for cooking?"

"Of course," he says and disappears through the door that leads to our garage.

Stirring the meat, I wait for it to brown when something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I perk up and look out the window overlooking the front yard of our home. The motion-activated lights leading up our driveway through the woods turn on, illuminating the otherwise dark area. Narrowing my eyes, I spot the pair of bright headlights approaching before parking neatly next to Noah's Q8. Just as I catch a glimpse of the familiar license plate, the owner of the car gets out.

"Hey, Dove, something caught your attention?"

My head jerks in the direction of Noah, who is now standing next to me, setting the bottle of wine down on the counter. "Say, did you forget to tell me Kyle was coming?"

Noah's attention shifts to the kitchen window, furrowing his brows as he watches Kyle walk up to our front porch.

"No, I haven't heard from him in a while. Stay here, I'll get the door."

I nod and watch as he walks out of the kitchen. A few seconds later Kyle's enthusiastic voice booms through the house before the two of them join me in the kitchen.

"Hey, Evelyn, sorry to bother you two this late!" he says with a broad grin on his face. Obviously, he is not sorry at all.

"Hey, Kyle, long time no see." I offer him a faint smile.

"You two don't seem too happy to see me."

"I would have appreciated a call beforehand," Noah says with a sigh while he fetches two glasses from the kitchen cupboard and a bottle of whiskey from the sideboard and pours them both a drink.

"Oh, come on, I wanted to surprise one of my best friends!" Kyle says and sits down at the dining table, thanking Noah for the drink. I raise my eyebrows in doubt; this behavior seems out of character even for Kyle. He knows as well as I do that Noah doesn't like surprises or situations he can't control.

"I'm your only friend," Noah says, and I can't help but snort.

Kyle dramatically clutches his chest and turns to me. "Evelyn, don't you consider me your friend?"

I roll my eyes in annoyance and keep my attention on the stew, pouring the wine into the pot. "Friends might be the wrong term. You're Noah's friend, and we haven't exactly spent a lot of time together yet."

Kyle's lips purse into a pout. "And here I thought we had something special."

"Shut up," Noah snaps, to which Kyle bursts out laughing and waves his hand dismissively.

"Why are you here?" Noah asks. "Did you fail a job again?"

My eyebrows shoot up in curiosity as I glance at the two of them sitting comfortably at the dining table. I don't know much about Kyle's work other than he works with the Mafia most of the time, carrying out hits for them. Occasionally, he asks Noah for advice or information, but other than that, I have no idea what he is up to.

"No, and I didn't screw up the job back then…I got distracted, you should know better than anyone how that feels." Kyle nods in my direction.

"You fucked your client's daughter; that's different."

"But it is okay to fuck your target?"

My heart leaps in my chest as a rush of warmth creeps up my neck and spreads across my face at the memory of our first night together. When I look up, I meet Noah's gaze, staring at me with knitted brows.

---