Page 32 of Tasting Sin

I stepped forward, quickly closing the distance between us until the only thing separating me from Nellie was the counter. “Of course he told me.” My voice felt harsher when she winced and reared back.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” she said, lowering her voice. She sounded calm even though her hands shook. “It was just a customer. Enzo completely overreacted.”

“No, he didn’t.” I scooped her hand from the counter, grasping it in both of mine and examining her face like I was looking for the rest of the story in her freckles.

Her hand twitched in mine, but she didn’t pull it back. “Yes. He did.” She huffed.

“Don’t be stubborn,” I scolded, and her jaw dropped open for a second before she closed it. Did her eyes have an extra shine to them? I loosened my hold on her hand but didn’t let go, and I brushed my thumb along the back of her knuckles. Nellie watched the movement closely. “You don’t understand, sugar. That guy is a dangerous man.”

“Dangerous how?” She swallowed, still unable to look away from her hand in mine.

“I can’t tell you that.” I lowered my voice like a warning. I wasn’t used to people questioning me, and I swallowed down growing frustration.

Nellie pulled her hands back, and mine felt empty without them. She grabbed another box, returning to the case to fill it. “Then it can’t be that bad.” Her stubbornness was painted across her face, and she scrunched her nose.

“It is.” I reached across the counter and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to return her undivided attention to me. “I can’t tell you why. I need you to trust I’m doing this for you.”

She chewed at the inside of her lip for a second before she sighed. Then, she shook her head. “That would mean I’d have to trust you.”

It was dark and quiet in this corner of town. That was why our warehouse was here. Nobody was there to see me pull up and park, the same way nobody would’ve seen Enzo pull up earlier. When the door to the warehouse slammed behind me, it echoed, but nobody would hear the sound bounce off the other brick buildings surrounding us.

“I haven’t been able to get anything from him,” Enzo said when I walked into the open room. Brian O’Malley sat in a metal chair in the middle of it, his head hanging. His groans of pain were mixed with muffled pleas.

“I’ll make this easy.” I pulled my gun out, stalking slowly toward the chair. My steps ricocheted off the rafters. Brian’s head rolled to the side, and he looked up at me from the corner of his eye. I used the end of my gun to brush his bloody hair away from his face. “I could start by removing each of your limbs one by one until you tell me everything I need to know, but I’m not a fan of the torture game. It’s too messy, and I don’t have that kind of time tonight. I’m going to give you one chance. Tell me who sent you. Who told you to put the brick through my girl’s window? Give me a name, or I’m putting this bullet through your head.”

His eyes widened, and his mouth gawked with obvious fear. He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was raspy, and he coughed to clear his throat. “What brick?”

“The brick with the half-veiled threat. I know it’s Irish sourced. I know that’s why you went back yesterday. That was a stupid move.” I cocked the gun. “Who sent you?”

He shook his head, glaring at me. He spat a bloody glob of spit on the cement floor at my feet, and I smacked him, feeling the impact of the gun in my hand against his cheek. Brian roared and gritted his teeth. “Nobody.” When he smiled, his teeth were stained with fresh blood. “But your girl is cute. I like them thick like that too. Curvy. More to hold onto.”

“Don’t you dare speak about her.” I pressed the barrel of the gun to the side of his head, satisfied when his green eyes widened with fear. “You should’ve told me what I wanted to hear,” I said, pulling the trigger.

The gunshot echoed, continuing to ring in my ears even when his blood and brain matter were spread across the floor. I wiped loose drops of blood from my cheek, staring at the red smear on my hands before I dropped my gun to the ground. I nodded at the dead Irishman’s body, the gun I’d never see again, and the mess that would be gone by morning.

“Take care of it,” I said coldly.

Enzo nodded, rolling his already-stained sleeves above his elbows. “So,” he said, stepping towards the body with a smirk, “your girl, huh? She’s your girl now?”

I didn’t know what she was, but I knew I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. I glared at him, wiping my hands off and walking toward the exit. I looked over my shoulder. “Just clean it up.”

Chapter 21

Nellie

“Are you still open?” The man slipped through the door, ringing the bell before I could pull the string to turn off the open sign. “It’s my wife’s birthday, and she’s going to be so upset if I don’t bring her dessert.” He put his hands up like he was praying, and I sighed.

I looked at the already-empty cabinet and shook my head. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”

He clenched his jaw, locking his fingers together. “Please, lady. I’m begging you.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help you.” I half-shrugged, looking at the door he held open in silent hope he would let himself out quickly. Instead, his face grew red, and his jaw rippled when he started to grind his teeth together. “I wish I could, but…”

“Don’t be such a stuck-up bitch.” His voice was instantly cold, and I took a reeling step backward. The gentleman who had walked in was suddenly replaced by the harsh, rude man in front of me.

I took a deep breath to stop myself from shaking, and I straightened my back. “I told you, I can’t help you. I’m sold out. There’s nothing for me to sell you.” I pointed to the cabinets behind me, and his face only got redder.

“Fine,” he snarled, opening the still-open door even wider. “Last time I come into this shitty little bakery.” The door slammed behind him, causing the bell to jump and the windows to shake. Joke’s on you. We aren’t going to be here for you to come back to.

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