Page 80 of Pure Vengeance

“Shh. It’s okay.” Natasha rocked back on her heels. “Will you let Lachlan help you so you can see for yourself?”

“Do you think you’re too good to touch me?” Saoirse snapped before struggling to her feet. “I don’t need anyone’s fucking help.”

“No. I don’t think I’m too good for anything,” Natasha replied quietly. “But I know I scare you, so I figured Lachlan was the better choice.”

“Fine.” Saoirse brought her hand to her lower lip to wipe at a trickle of blood. “What do you want me to see?”

“In the bathroom.” Natasha opened the door to reveal two bodies neatly wrapped in plastic. “Dead guy burritos. Matt is on the left. The other is Enrique.”

“Dead guy burritos. Christ.” Saoirse laughed, the sound jarring and discordant. “Why?”

“I promised your brother I’d keep you safe.” After closing the door to hide the bodies, Natasha shrugged. “I wouldn’t wish George on my worst enemy.”

Without waiting for a reply, she picked up the edge of the plastic and wrapped George as neatly as she’d done to Matt and Enrique. When she finished, she stood on a clean sheet of plastic before stripping down to her underwear.

I averted my gaze, but… Damn, she was gorgeous. I tried not to miss her softly rounded curves, gone because of me.

Fuck. She already knew how to keep a murder scene clean. My chest ached, and I resisted the urge to wrap her in my arms. No innocent should ever be forced to learn how to kill.

I grabbed George’s feet and hauled him into the bathroom with his friends, then returned for her things. I’d already sent a coded text to a very good, very discreet cleaner. The bodies would be gone before sundown, along with their SUV and every last trace of their existence. The cleaner’s services were more than worth the six-figure fee.

“Thank you. I’m going to clean up and get packed.” Her gaze rested on Saoirse. “Take a tepid bath with Epsom salt. Witch hazel everywhere you can reach, then arnica gel. After that, take some acetaminophen, then pretend you’re a dish of caviar and pack yourself in ice.”

Her words made me wish I could bring her abusers back to life so I could kill them again. The advice was too detailed to have come from anything but experience.

“Wait. Are you leaving?” Saoirse asked. “Just like that?”

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. Don’t you?”

“Let me get this straight.” Saoirse got in Natasha’s face and put her hands on her hips. “You’re going to save my life and get rid of the last of your stupid father’s guards, then give advice on soothing my bruises without even staying for supper?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I need to pick up my babies and find a hotel for the night.” Natasha smiled briefly. “There’s a pan of frozen enchiladas in the freezer. The heating instructions are on the label.”

“Babies?” Saoirse spun to face me and punched me in the stomach. “She has children, and you?—”

“She means Dante and his kitten.” Thankfully, my sister didn’t know how to throw a punch—unlike my wife. For a single misguided moment, I wished Natasha would stick around long enough to teach her.

“Children are definitely not on my bingo card.” Sighing heavily, Natasha picked up her weapons and handed them to me. “These should probably go with the bodies.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah. There’s no point in leaving evidence, and I can replace them.” After making sure the bottoms of her feet were clean, she strode to the door. “Don’t forget to file those divorce papers.”

Without waiting for a reply, she walked out.

“I’ve never seen you look at a woman that way,” Saoirse said.

“What way?”

“Like she farts rainbows and pisses glitter. It’s disturbing.” Saoirse shuddered, then asked, “Do you love her?”

Am I that transparent?

“Yes. That’s why I’m letting her go.”

“Wow. When did you decide to turn into a pussy? Go get her back.”

“Well, considering she doesn’t want to stay, and you’re scared of her…” I shrugged, then added, “What else am I supposed to do?”

She laughed softly and shook her head. “Oh, she is terrifying, but you caged her once. I’ll help you do it again.”

“That won’t end well for either of us.” I cocked my head toward the closed bathroom door. “You saw what she did to her father and his men.”

“You handled it all wrong, and I told you that on your wedding day.” She smiled and grabbed a T-shirt from my dresser, then slipped it over her torn dress. “You didn’t consider trying to figure out how to make her like it.”

The end… for now.

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