Page 92 of Devious Lies

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO-LUC

Istand next to Angel in the hall as Nico has his meeting with Liam O’Doyle and his twenty year old daughter Margaret.

The old man has her pimped out in some trashy get up like she’s up for grabs and I feel nothing but revulsion.

What the fuck is wrong with him that he would blatantly offer his daughter like some carnal sacrifice?

It makes me sick.

I don’t often accompany Nico to these kinds of meetings. Not unless there is something legal to be discussed. But the O’Doyle’s are old school Irish mob, and they have something we want.

I’m not there to negotiate terms. I am there to pick up on something they might be hiding.

And I can see it as soon as I look at the old man’s wrinkled maw.

This motherfucker has Sanchez Junior.

And we want him.

But I want his brother more.

Ever since I heard Matteo Sanchez’s slimy, high-pitched voice asking Maria’s frail mother if she’s heard from her daughter, my hackles have been raised.

“You see your daughter lately, Senora Lopez? You know, she broke my heart that Mia. Yours too, si? Don’t worry, Mami. We will see her again. Soon.”

Every inch of me is on high alert. And I hate that I am here.

I fucking loathe that I left her home.

Maria is mine.

She’s become so damn important to me.

I know I have what some might regard as an unhealthy obsession, but I really don’t care.

She is essential to me. A necessary part of my life.

I need her more than I need air, or food, or water.

Maria is my sustenance.

She nourishes me with her love that she gives so freely. With her body that I find so divine. With her mind, that is brilliant and funny. And with her sweet smiles, and the way she naturally gravitates to and attracts all things joyful.

I think about the way she gave her virginity to me, and I rub the hollow part of my chest.

I recall how good she tastes on my lips, and I lick them, hoping to find a remnant of her there.

Fuck.

I wish I was back home with her.

Then I pause because I realize Maria has made my renovated warehouse a real home.

Sure, it was already set up. A little snooty for the area I grew up, but there was a lot of real estate development on the Hudson now.

But with her brightly colored pillows and her eclectic tastes in food, music, and art, she’s turned my cold, minimalist place into something warm and vibrant.

Fuck, I love her.

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