Page 168 of Riordan's Revenge

Realisation struck. Riordan’s revenge had already taken place. He’d shown his father exactly what he thought of him and he’d come out on top. My beautiful, warm, brave-hearted boy wasn’t a killer, but that was why we made such a great team.

I pushed up on my toes and kissed his cheek. “Or I can do it for ye.”

His slow nod gave me life.

Dropping to my haunches, I read the mayor the riot act. “For decades, ye schemed, hurt, and abused anyone ye pleased. Ye tried to murder my fucking boyfriend, a man who deserves only love, not a man like ye in his life. The trouble with that is there are consequences to such actions. Men in power seem to think they are above reprisals, but I’m thrilled to tell ye that isn’t true.”

Tugging the knife out, I slammed it in again. And again.

No one approached us. No figures were on the bank now, our friends clearly seeing we had this.

Shade would get the crime scene cleaned up. Arran would keep Kenney on our side. I’d hold up my bargain with the residents.

Blood speckled my hands on my final hit. The mayor’s head thunked to the earth.

Without further ceremony, I indicated for Riordan to roll him into the water then rinsed my dagger and my fingers while Deadwater’s flow carried him to a watery grave. In a few months, when he washed up on a distant coast, his absence would bepaired to the police report Kenney would place where a drug deal went wrong and cost him his life.

Turning back to Riordan, I registered the look in his eyes.

My lips curved in a smile. “You’re turned on.”

He exhaled a laugh. “I can’t help it. Your brand of crazy works for me.”

Now that, I intended to exploit forever.

Chapter 53

Cassie

My head thumped with too much information. With exhaustion, elation, and everything in between.

We left the crime scene on Rio’s bike after I directed Arran to retrieve Moniqua’s knife from where it had landed. I believed her, but DNA evidence of some kind would put the debate to bed forever.

Then we drove off into the night, through the arguing group of residents and cops, no one stopping us.

At the warehouse, under the neon-pink glow from the signs, a few crew members wrestled the councillors from our suspects list into the basement.

“Just let me apologise again to Everly, I mean Miss Makepeace. I swear I’ve been respectful to women,” one blathered.

Riordan carried me past. Someone else could handle them. We deserved time alone together.

In our apartment, he locked the door and took me to the bathroom. Set me on my feet while getting the water running then reached for my kitty shower cap.

I shook my head. There was blood in my hair. I needed it gone.

Riordan seemed to understand. He stripped me.

I slid his jacket off him, then his shirt. My stomach gutted out at the red line where the bullet grazed. It could’ve killed him. Just a few inches lower, and I wouldn’t be able to do this anymore.

He removed his remaining clothes and drew me under the spray with him.

“Sure ye want to get this wet?” I cupped a hand over his wound.

It was the first time either of us had spoken since leaving the crime scene. Later, I’d recognise that we were in shock. Right now, all I could do was follow my instincts.

Riordan choked a low laugh. “You were in a fire, then a death match with a murderer and my father, and you’re worried about me?”

He sank down, bringing me to his lap on the shower floor. Rain pattered down on us in a warm, lulling storm, and I huddled against the man I would’ve died for.

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