Page 41 of The Devil We Know

Tony: I didn’t do anything.

Carolina: That’s what you always say.

Darius: Have you considered just asking why he’s looking for you?

Tony: Admitting I don’t know what’s going on would be a mistake.

Antoinette: That may still be better than not knowing.

Tony: I hate you.

Antoinette: Liar.

I close out ofmy texting app and pick up my burner phone, calling my Irish contact. The call connects, and no one says anything, so I say, “What does he want?”

“To meet.”

“Why?”

My question is met with silence, which I suspected would happen, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying. I let the silence drag on until I can’t take it anymore, and then I sputter, “Fine. When?”

“He’ll see you in three minutes. Don’t move.”

The line goes dead, and I curse under my breath because I should have known this would happen. These people have no use for boundaries or notice, so it’s no great surprise that they’ve got a tail on me, and the man himself is likely within spitting distance of me. This also proves that I’m slacking because I didn’t even notice that I was being followed.

Realizing I have no other option, I do as I’m told and don’t move from my current seat. Happy I already ordered myself a coffee, I take a sip and enjoy the last few moments of silence I’m probably going to get for a while.

Sure enough, within moments, that Irish motherfucker is pulling out the chair across from me and having a seat like we’re old friends.

I don’t waste time with niceties or any of that fake bullshit. I just ask, “What do you want?”

“Matt sent me.”

Well, this gets my attention. I almost drop my coffee halfway to my mouth, but I catch myself in time and set it on the table hard enough that some of the hot liquid splashes onto the table. “You’ve seen Matt?”

He nods and then says, “I got word that somehow my daughter ended up in the same building he’s in. Apparently, engaged to a truly horrific man under the guise that we’re going to unite the families.”

I frown, shaking my head as I ask, “Your daughter? What the fuck does this have to do with Matt?”

He raises his brows at me, and for a moment, it feels like I’m going to be reprimanded for being a moron, but I raise my brows back and then wait until he finally answers, “Jessica. Is it safe for me to assume she’s in that building because of you?”

Now, I squirm a bit under his intense stare, which isn’t something I do very often, but I’m not going to bother lying tothe man. “That would be a group effort, actually. But entirely her choice.”

He lifts his arms and rests his hands on the table, palms down flat, and I get the impression he’s repressing his urge to snatch up the butter knife in front of him and stab it through my neck. I mean, I wouldn’t let him, but it would definitely be a fight for the ages. So, I add, “Jessica being your daughter is news to me. It’s news to all of us. I’m relatively sure Matt didn’t even know that.”

I pull my phone back out, bring up my group text, and ignore the slew of messages I missed as I send a new one.

Tony: Did any of you know that Jessica is linked to the Irish?

Darius: Excuse me?

Antoinette: Well, that would explain her murderous tendencies.

Darius: It’s becoming increasingly obvious that we’re missing more things than we’re catching lately, and that perhaps once we get Matt back, we should fine-tune our processes so we can stop looking like assholes.

Tony: Well, since you’re the boss, you’re the only one that actually looks like an asshole.

Carolina: *skull emoji*

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