Page 7 of One Kill

“These rugrats, as you say, are gonna be the death of me.” His words are followed by an affectionate kiss to Dante’s forehead as the kid’s big brown eyes stare back at his dad. Apparently, no one knows who the actual biological fathers of these four kids are.

The twins were the first to arrive a little over seven years ago. Adalee is the oldest by two minutes, followed by Braxton. They’re a force to be reckoned with, for sure. I’ve sparred with them before, just for the fun of it. Their skills are impressive and when they tag team their opponents, they’re a little scary. Physically, they look nothing alike. Adalee chooses to have short hair like her aunt River, Marco’s wife, while Braxton wears his longer, in a cross between a surfer and a rock star. Blonde, wavy, and messy all the fucking time. While Adalee has her mother’s and uncle Marco’s gray eyes, Braxton’s are more of a forest green; deep and soulful.

My favorite though is Cairo, the middle one. He’s only five, but holy fuck. That kid is going to rule the world. I’m pretty sure he’s got some kind of genius brain going on with the memory of a thousand computers on constant overdrive. Not once have I seen him enter the cages, but he watches, his sharp blue eyes bouncing from one person to the other like he’s calculating statistics and shit. It’s weird but also fascinating.

“Daddy!” Dante is bucking in Devon’s arms as he tries to get down. Kid can’t stay still for more than two seconds. He’s cute though, for a toddler.

“How long you guys in town?” They all live somewhere in England but come back often enough for Marco and River to be a constant in the kids’ lives.

“A coupla weeks, maybe more. I think Tyler has an idea he wants to investigate.” As a former businessman who is now a stay-at-home dad, Tyler Walker is the epitome of the billionaire husband. Or boyfriend? Maybe they’re all just partners? Hell if I know, but it works.

“Maybe I’ll get to kick your ass then?”

“Doubt it, but you can always dream.” He laughs and my lip curls in mock anger. He’s bustin’ my chops and that’s fine. It’s what we do.

“Miss J, your phone is vibrating on your bag.” My eyes land on Cairo who, at five, speaks like he’s fifty. It’s weird, right?

“Thanks, Kid.” Hopping out of the cage, I realize Tab’s already gone and I’m guessing he bolted a while ago. Devon raises his hand in a goodbye as he tries to contain the ball of energy that is his son and Cairo follows behind in silence.

Still watching the middle kid, I grab the phone and look at the screen. Marco called and I missed it. I’m about to get an earful, no doubt.

“Boss?” I question when he answers after the first ring.

“Mind telling me why you’re sparring at the gym instead of resting?” I blink, surprised he’d know where I am before remembering he’s the head of the fucking mafia. He knows every-fucking-thing.

“Needed to vent, Boss.”

“Yeah, well, I need you rested. I got a job for you.” Here we go… the work of a capo is never done.

“I’m good, Boss. Where do you need me?”

One of the advantages of having a female capo in a male-dominated world is that when I walk into a room, heads turn.

Tonight, I’ve got to test the patience of a dozen men trying to make a deal in The City without Marco’s presence. He wasn’t invited to their little shindig, and because he’s not an idiot, he’s not walking into the viper’s den without knowing exactly who is hissing out the commands.

My presence, however, will surprise them long enough for me to get the job done. But first, I have to look the part.

Red, backless dress… check.

High heels… check.

Makeup… ugh. Check.

Even my hair is up in some kind of bun twist thing I got from an instructional video on the internet.

Knives… check.

Gotta be prepared for every scenario.

My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter and I’m surprised to see Murphy’s name flashing on it. We exchanged numbers before I left, promising to keep in touch so we can figure out how to best take care of Hallie’s needs.

My maternal instincts are non-existent, but I’m still human and, for some strange reason, I’m having a hard time understanding… any time I think of Hallie, or her name, or see her face in the forefront of my mind, there’s a warm feeling that pulses behind my ribcage.

At first I thought I was having some type of heart problem. A heart attack, maybe? Then I realized I’d had fried food as a midnight snack the night before and chalked it up to heartburn.

“I’ve got a thing, Murph. What’s up?” I don’t bother to answer in a polite tone. The only person who gets a hello is my boss.

“Good evening to you, too, Jaybear.” My molars smash together at the nickname he’s insisting on using for me. It brings up way too many memories and…feelingsthat I’m not ready to have.

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