Page 63 of Crimson Tears

“All I can say is that twelve ended up dead, and it was in Morocco.”

Cillian whistles. “Alright, hot shot. Did it involve mafia business or was it one of yourlegitimatebusinesses that went sideways?”

I can tell Boris gets annoyed when Cillian uses air quotes for ‘legitimate’. I grin and Boris notices, shaking his head.

“That is confidential.”

Cillian huffs. “Why are you so secretive? It’s not like I could do anything about it now. Besides, it probably happened like a hundred years ago or something.”

This time, I do snort and Boris sighs as I cringe in pain.

“Why must you be so intrusive, Kid?”

Cillian shrugs. “You can’t be a good assassin if you don’t ask questions. Ya know, learn from your elders and all that gobshite.”

Boris considers that for a minute. “True. Although, as an assassin, have you not figured out that asking the right question is more important?”

“Not really.”

Boris shakes his head. “Sounds like you are lucky to be alive then.”

Cillian straightens slightly from where he sits beside me. “Was that a threat, Old Man?”

Boris snorts. “Did it sound like a compliment?”

Cillian groans like a child. I listen to them banter and tell stories. Boris’ are very accurate representations of things he and I have seen out on missions, whereas Cillian’s are likely very blown out of proportion stories that make him sound like a wizard.

Or maybe it was just him trying to convince us he really does have some sort of magical power.

It’s light-hearted and keeps me grounded, allowing me to pull away from the pain inside of my body. The more I hear them talk though, the more I’m convinced that we can all work together as partners.

Cillian brings a child-like joy to the day, whereas Boris ensures we stay on task. I need both of those things, both of them.

By the way Cillian acts, I think he realizes it too and must agree. The question remains though.

Is Boris willing to share?

Chapter 18

Everything about this situation is infuriating. The fear I saw in Nessa's eyes as bits of her skin were literally carved from her body is not something I could have imagined would ever happen to the woman I love.

Some mafia cultures may be different, but my woman is supposed to be untouchable. After the guards I hired failed my late wife, I made the decision that with Nessa, I would be her eyes and would not fail her.

Yet, I did.

I left my post and ran to them because they had been inside too long. It had been too long since I set eyes on her, and I needed to know she was okay.

That backfired tremendously.

To be fair, there have not been many times in my life where I have been ambushed by an enemy raining down from above with more men than we could have ever imagined. But I can guarantee it will be a concern from now on and something I will always be prepared for in the future.

We underestimated the enemy, and it turns out that Nessa’s father is running this whole show.

I should have killed him when I had the chance. I watched as his daughter’s fake casket was delivered to him on my orders. Nessa’s mother wept at his side, but Donovan? He just looked pissed off at the loss of his investment.

I contemplated killing him then, especially after the few things Nessa had told me about him. But for some reason, I let him live. That is another mistake I intend to rectify. Once we get out of here and find the children he stole, I will personally deliver a bullet to his brain.

Over the year and a half that Nessa and I have been together, she has opened up about her father and what life with him was like. In the beginning, he adored her and her sister, but when it became apparent that he was not going to have a son to hand his legacy to, things changed. He became hard on her. When his men challenged her strength and whether or not she was capable enough to carry on the brutal Irish Reapers, he proved to them just how strong she was in the worst ways.

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